Loving something more than you also hate it?
Is it the threats? Is it the hints of violence beneath the attraction?
An enemies-to-lovers romance is…limitless. The lengths a villain will go are limitless. When those lengths turn into something done on the behalf of the female lead, it’s powerful.There’s an edge to it. Furthermore, seeing someone overcome their aptitude for loathing in spite of it creates allure.
Hatred, after all, is a passion that many practice more often than love.
It’s hard to get past.
When someone does, the result at the other end is stable. The characters have already overcome the worst opinions they’ll ever have about each other, so surely their happy ending will persist through anything.
How strange.
Is the enemies-to-lovers allure rooted in a desire for stability? A longing that someone’s love might be greater than every reason we believe ourselves to be unlovable…?
Breath leaves me as my muscles relax.
That’s beautiful.
But, probably, I should stop analyzing this and message Leeann so she can outright ask August what she likes about enemies to lovers. Ultimately, I could spend hours deducing what I think and still not come to the same conclusion she might.
Securing my phone, I shoot off the text to Leeann, then indulge in a glimpse of August.
Who is approaching.
With two plates of food.
My heart jumps, and I click out of my spreadsheet a moment before an adorable display appears in front of my face.
Eyes widening, I stare at…dinner. “What,” I blink, “is this?”
“It’s a Bear-ger General.” Grin stretching her freckles, Augustglitters. “And his penguin army.” Forlorn humor washes across August’s expression. “They go to war. Against your teeth. I pity their families.” She turns, angling her body toward the kitchen, where a tray of more olive-and-cheese penguins are literally set up on the counter, mourning. If I squint, I can see that some have collapsed while others comfort little penguin olive-and-cheese children. Despondent, August wistfully declares, “Things do not look optimistic. They’ve already been told that no one who has ever set out against this foe has lived to tell the tale.” Lovelier than anything I’ve ever seen, she beams down at me. “Careful, I assembled everything with toothpicks. Having you bite into one and need to go to the hospital is their sole hope for survival, but—alas—there was a spy on the inside capable of delivering this information before the wicked plot came to fruition. Disassemble everyone before you murder them completely.”
I am…in love.
I am in love.
I would like to marry this woman. Right now. Yesterday. In a week. In a month. Whenever she’ll let me.
Reverent, I accept my plate and behold the artistry. She’s used cheese slices, peppercorns, and thin strips of seaweed to make a wee face on top of the burger bun, where she’s fashioned a cut hot dog into ears. “This is incredible,” I say.
Settling in beside me on the couch, August pops a bear ear in her mouth. “Arigatougozaimasu. I’m actually a serial killer, and you’re next.”
“After a meal like this, I think I could die happy.”
She giggles. “Your bar for joy is low.” She eats the other ear on her bear burger. “I appreciate that character trait in people.”
My heart flutters, but before I can respond, her phone rings.
Tugging it free from her dress pocket, she says, “Oh, it’s my grandmother. Do you mind?”
“No, not at all.”
I am not, however, expecting her to answer the call right here, throw it on speaker phone, and down a disassembled penguin as she says, “Hi, Granee.”
“August. Quick question.”
My heart lodges itself in my throat as I suspect exactly what thisquick questionmight be.
