Haïr Pour Aimer Novels & Stories

asked Harriet flatly, shaking and angry. "Why is Madam afraid of high places?" Liam asked back, seriously. "Because I'm afraid of falling!" said Harriet quickly and sharply, almost screaming. Liam smiled. Harriet, who was so angry and irritated at him out of fear was so different when she was annoyed at him teasing her. "I'm sorry, Madam," Liam said sincerely. He could see Harriet’s brows furrow at his apology. "But I'm glad Madam isn't afraid of high places because of a terrible experience, and just because you're afraid of falling," Liam said then.

I countered, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions churning within me. Her eyes flickered at my rebuttal, the amusement in her gaze replaced with an intense curiosity. She studied my face as if seeing me for the first time, her gaze burning into mine, searching for something. Was it an answer? Or was it a confirmation of the unspoken feelings simmering between us? "Maybe they do" she finally responded, her voice barely above a whisper "Because hate, like love, is a passionate emotion. And maybe, in our twisted, messed-up way, we're confusing one for the other"

I shook my head, a frown forming on my face. “Of course not…I hate him. But I do miss the sex. It sucks. It makes me feel like a hypocrite. How can I hate someone and love fucking them?” I asked. Ria laughed. “Haven't you heard? Hate isn't the opposite of love. They're sisters.” She replied. I chuckled, and shook my head. “Yeah…but I didn't say anything about love. I said I love the sex.” I told her. She wiggled her brows at me. “I didn't say I wasn't talking about sex.” She replied.

Once he understood a wide arrogant smirk made its way to his lips as she glared at him with anger. .................................................. "They say love nullifies hate, I say hate is a catalyst to love" ......................................................

In her mind, someone as weak and gentle as Henry would never betray her. "I abhor you, Henry," Hana said. Henry laughed hysterically. Suddenly, he grabbed Hana's chin with his hands forcing her to look into his eyes, "It's good; hatred is better than giving favors. Hana, didn't I tell you that I hate the feeling of giving grace?"

“I think you have it twisted. This is for revenge, I need to see him suffer. To feel the same pain that I did.” “Noted,” Erlan said, the amusement returning to his tone. “But mon chérie, the opposite of love isn’t hate. It’s indifference. You hate him, but you still care. Take it from me—there’s a very thin line between love and hate. You never really know when they intersect.” His voice was silk over a blade. My free hand curled into a fist. “Ugh! I don’t know why I’m surprised. You’re his friend, so of course you’re just as infuriating. Calling you was a mistake.”

Viktor remained silent for several seconds before rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "You know," he began, his expression becoming oddly serious, "hate is one of the strongest and clearest emotions a person can feel." "Oh God." "Hear me out," he said. "I don't want to." "Too bad." A grin tugged at his lips. "If you hate someone and then begin liking them later, it means you've crossed an emotional line." "I haven't crossed anything." "You have. Absolutely." I sighed dramatically. "Where is this going?" "It's simple." He paused. "If hatred turns into affection… and affection deepens… It eventually becomes something you can't do without.”

Listening. Her words cut deeper than he expected. Later That Night... Grayson stood alone in his study, staring out at the rain cascading down the glass wall of windows. He hated this. He hated how wrong everything felt since their kiss. Since her. He hated that he could still taste her. Still feel the way she’d trembled in his arms. "She's just the nanny." That was what he told himself. Over. And over. But when he closed his eyes, all he saw was her defiant stare... her softness with Lily... her fire when she fought back.

she said, now pouting, taking vigorous measures to clean her lips. “Amy darling” I chuckled as I watched her “It’s Amelia!” She snapped, her face getting red “Why won’t it come off!” She yelled, trying to clean off the lipstick I got for her, it made me smile, she despised me, I could tell yet, I wanted that. “We need to freshen up” I said finally, unbuttoning the sleeves on my shirt. “Huh? What do you mean we? You’ll leave the room and once I’m done, you can do whatever” she answered, her soft voice had suddenly become deeper, as though she it was a threat, I turned to look at her, her fingers pointing to the door.

Zay’s POV They say love can be gentle. That it’s soft whispers in the night, warm hands held under starlight, promises whispered like secrets between two souls. But mine? My love for Vee is something else entirely. It’s fire and shadow. It’s fierce and relentless. It’s the kind of love that claws at your insides and refuses to let go. I’ve watched other guys look at her—carefree, casual, like she was just another prize to chase. But I know better. I know Vee. She’s not just anyone. She’s mine.