Romans & histoires I Hate It When Voldemort

I looked at her with my brows raised in amusement. ‘I don’t ever want to see either of you, so please leave," I pointed at the door. ‘I’m sorry,” Lily whispered, and then they were both out of the room. “I hate them so much, Violet. I hate them.” I sank to the floor when my legs began to protest. I felt the rage slowly seep out of my body, and sorrow replaced it. “I would never let myself be marked by that monster even if I die,” I vowed, and I felt Violet protest since this was a dangerous vow.

LXXVI: Burning Hate Alyssa's POV I hate seeing him. I hate that even after he became powerless and enslaved, his presence is still undeniably noticeable. He struts around with his head held high as he isn't a criminal. I hate that stoic face of his as if he didn't do anything wrong. I hate it whenever I hear his voice. I hate everything about Knox Volkov and I have never hated anyone in my life.

Ariel stood frozen, then broke into tears. She could not wrap her head around why he hated her so much. None of it made sense. It was like everyday with Axel came with its own troubles, including the following day.

He said with wide eyes. “Marissa is going to kill me!” “What? Why?” “Oh, God. Why am I so stupid?” She squeezed her eyes shut, face palmed herself, opened her eyes again, and groaned in frustration. “Hey…” He did not know what he was supposed to do. "You are not understanding." "Make me understand." He rolled his eyes.

“You should have done better!” My heart hurls at the mention of Vladimir. It happens every time someone brings him into the conversation. And for someone who claims to detest his guts so much, they bring him up a lot. If only there was a way to caution him against Lorenzo and his villainous schemes. I might have hated Mir once, but the idea of him getting hurt—or dying—drops my heart into my stomach. I feel awful. Miserable. Something needs to be done about this situation. But I’m not sure what. Yet.

I slide onto the bed, cover my computer, and pull the comforter over my head. I hate him. I whisper to myself, a reminder, so I don't forget it next time. Once again, I ignore the echo of my own words in my head. I do so because they don't mirror what I just said. I hate him. I mouth more fiercely. Again, it echoes in my head, and it's not what I just said. I toss and stare at the door, squeeze my eyes, and whisper those words again. Only this time it's not my voice that echoes in my head. It's his. And it makes my skin crawl. With rage. With disdain. Because that's all it can be. That's all it will be. Hate. Aiden. Nothing else. Ever. ****

Who knows, if a teacher was nearby, they could come to our rescue. "I wasn't planning to kill him, even though he deserves death. His life is worthless. I just wanted to scare him.” Vaelen smirked and turned to look at the wounded boy behind him. "Tell him, was I about to kill you?” he asked and the wounded boy shook his head. “Still, you can't just go around beating up students just because you're in third year entering final year." I glared at him, gritting my teeth in annoyance. Vaelen’s smile fell at once, and it was replaced by a scowl, a deep resentment he felt towards me. I still couldn't decipher what exactly I had done to him to make him hate me so much.

“Why? Is anything wrong with the way I dress? I can dress myself up just fine.” “Oh, no, I never said you couldn’t dress yourself. I only said I wanna dress you up for it, because I don’t want to go to a party with Hermione Granger from Harry Potter. If I want that to happen, then I’ll let you go with me like this.” She said, referring to my favourite movie character. “Hey!” I argued, “There is absolutely nothing wrong with Hermione, she is smart, intelligent, hot, fucking pretty and a very brilliant lady!” I added, defending my favourite character while Nicole only rolled her eyes.

Dang it, Charles; you couldn’t have taught me the whole spell! “Listen, if I don't get you to Charles in a few hours your face is going to stay like that, and as much as I hate that ugly face of yours, this is creepier than Voldemort. “He rolls his eyes, which have no eyelids by the way before standing up.

Laughter bounced around the room. I sat down on the bench lacing up my Jordans. Woody looked over. “You know Coach definitely has a favorite.” I didn’t even look up. “He hates all of us equally, Woody.” “Nah.” Parker pointed at me. “You are the Golden boy.” “Did you hear him?” Woody mimicked Coach’s voice. “Watch Tatum. Watch Tatum” The room erupted with laughter. I shook my head. “You lot are idiots.” Enzo walked in late, still carrying his helmet. “There he is.”