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when we first met, you called me a bitch. after that you tried to stay away from me. and every time i got near you, you were full of aggressive aura. i tried to stay away from you, because i didn’t want to drown in the aura. but as the time flew, you tried to get close. closer and closer. the aggressive aura soon turned into warmth. you apologized for calling me a bitch and the warmth turned into hotness. The hotness turned into a pure fire called love. You loved me, and you didn’t even try to fight back the rumors. But the problem was, I hated you. I hated you in pure hatred. I did.

We dated. I wanted revenge. It all felt like a angsty romance novel but no, it was reality.

Soon, I grabbed the bucket full of water and turned off the fire.

All that was left was smoke. Poisonous smoke which could kill you if you inhale it too much.

In other words, regret.

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