You Can't Hate Me Forever! (Anti x Schneep)

Argument

Anti's pov.

"What's your problem?" I growled at him. Both of us still staring at each other. I'm not exceptionally in the mood to argue with him, especially at this time of the morning, but I guess I have to anyway. "Nothing. Vhy vere you ztarving at me?"

"That's not an answer. Plus, you were the one staring at me first."

"You were ztarving at me first."

"Whatever."

"Can you move?"

"Maybe if you ask nicely."

"Zince vhen do you care avout being nice?"

"Do it. Otherwise, you don't get your coffee~" I may be exhausted out of my mind, but I still know how to be a smartass. "Anti. Move." His accent altogether leaving his voice, that's how you know when he is pissed. "Fine." I get off the counter and step to the side regretting getting up so quickly, my sight disappears, and my neck oozes out some blood from it rushing to my head. I wait a second before heading towards my room, on the way out I hear the doc say something in German. "Dumm glitch Hündin." It's said in a growl-like-whisper, but I heard it clear as day. Even if I don't understand German, I could've sworn he called me glitch bitch. In fact, I am positive he called me that. What makes it worse it the fact he tried to hide it. It didn't work. But he tried. Usually, I don't care that much if one of the others called me that, but when the doc calls me it. It hurts. A lot. I drag my worthless body into my dark bedroom and quietly close the door. I flick on the lamp and scan my eyes around the room.

The walls are painted a deep black colour, and the roof is painted to look like the milky way. My bed is large enough to fit two people, even though in the only one that uses it, my blanket and pillows are a dark forest green colour and the bed's framing is all wooden. My bedside table is wooden along with my closet and desk, that's in the corner. I have a large T.V on a shelf, the shelf also wooden. My desk has a stationary pot with pencils, pens, and rulers. There are rubbers and sharpeners in a box next to the pot. Under the desk, there is a small black bin filled with papers and band-aids. There is an assortment of books and ornaments on the shelf. The books mostly consist of manga and horror novels, but there are some drawing and coloring books there as well. None of the others know this, but I love plushies. I'm not as tough as everyone thinks I am, in fact, I'm actually shy. Or at least I can be. Plushies make up for the love that the other egos never gave to me. I lay down in my stupidly big bed and grab my cat plushie. I buried my body underneath the blankets and held the plushie close to my chest. I won't say that I'm sad because I'm not. I just feel numb. I don't know whether I should cry or throw knives at the wall... I just don't know...

A/N: sorry for the small chapter. I promise I will update again soon but until then I hope you enjoy yourselves 😊.