MORIA
“Well hello to you too.”
I am deliberate about the way I say the words.
Slow, unbothered and with just a hint of boredom.
As if seeing him doesn’t feel like a sucker punch to the gut.
It’s almost funny, I should have gotten used to his face by now but it still feels like the first time all over again.
My heart starts to race and my mouth still goes dry.
I hate it.
I hate it so much.
Especially since he acts like being in the same room as me is some sort of gruesome punishment he can’t believe the gods gave him.
He leans against the door and my throat tightens.
Then he says my name with that emphasis on the rolling ‘r’ and I swear to the sky my toes curl on the spot.
Damn him.
It would be so much easier to focus on hating him if he didn’t look like he did, didn’t look a
