He nods, and I could almost swear he perks up at my agreement. But that would be ridiculous. He hates me, of that I’m sure. Maybe he’s never audibly said the words, but he doesn’t have to. I can feel it. I can see it. There are moments, small and big ones, that prove it to me. Like when we’re playing the piano together during our ‘lessons’, and his hand accidentally brushes mine, and he pulls it away like he’s been scorned, like he can’t even stand to touch me. Or when he actively tries to get on my nerves, doing things that he knows irritate me, like fake-flirting with me and staring at me
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