I will die if I don't kiss my mortal enemy. To survive, I became a master of emotional whiplash. One second, we're screaming at each other. The next, I'm pinning him against the wall, locking lips. One second, I'm sneering and telling him to get lost. The next, I'm pulling him back for a desperate make-out session. Day after day, more punctual than a 9-to-5 job. Chase Sterling started looking at me like I belonged in a padded cell. I had no choice but to lean into the "psycho ex-rival" persona. Until one day, the System shrieked in my brain: [SYSTEM ALERT: Bad news, Host! Kisses aren't enough to sustain your life force anymore!] My world collapsed. 1 Survived another day. I looked down at the man beneath me—swollen lips, shirt in disarray. Explaining this was getting harder. Since I couldn't change myself, I had to change him. Chase Sterling was getting used to it. He lay there, sharp brows furrowed, high nose bridge catching the light, expression unreadable. I scrambled off him, backing away two steps, laughing nervously. "Haha, oops. Just... stumbled. My bad." Chase clearly didn't buy my BS. He twitched his mouth and hissed in pain. Guilt pricked me. I rushed it. I definitely busted his lip. Chase laughed, a cold, sarcastic sound. "You're strong." I didn't dare speak. He stared at me flatly. "So you come over here, cuss me out, just so you can eat my face? Is that the play?" I stood there, forcing calm. [System, I sacrifice so much for myself.] The System comforted me: [It's not your fault. You just love living too much.] Ever since I started relying on Chase's lips for sustenance, I lost the moral high ground in our arguments. Chase sat up, straightening his clothes. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Even fully clothed, the muscle definition was obvious. He looked... aggressive. Afraid he might deck me, I backed toward the door, hand finding the knob. I pressed down. It didn't budge. Right. This was Chase's room. Haha. Why did he lock the door? Paranoid much? Chase finished adjusting his collar, leaned against the wall, and crossed his arms. He smirked, terrifyingly. "Running away again?" The System trembled in my brain: [Host, I'm scared... maybe we should kneel and apologize? Maybe he'll get possessive, grab your waist, and give you his life instead...] I mentally cursed: [Where did you learn that trash? Fanfiction?] I chose silence. Chase chuckled softly. He walked toward me slowly, his shadow engulfing mine. "Nothing to say?" I gritted my teeth. "I'm sorry, I was wrong, I didn't mean to. You know my life hasn't been easy. Einstein invented the apple, Newton said pool tables falling from trees kill people, but nobody knows that today, the person I should thank most is you..." I stopped because Chase lifted my chin. He was undeniably handsome. But I swear I had no designs on him. I've hated his guts since kindergarten. The man is the King of Pretension. But yeah, assaulting him daily wasn't exactly cool. Chase's thumb pressed hard against my lip. "You owe me a lot more than an apology." "..." My bad. 2 If depression was a talent, I'd be a prodigy. Six months ago, a car ran a red light and flattened me. I died. But not completely. I accidentally acquired a System. The System told me it wasn't my time. But living came with a condition: I had to leech off Chase Sterling's "luck." Haha. Loan-sharking my own life. The problem was, Chase and I were enemies. As kids, he copied everything I did. I played with RC planes, he played with RC planes. I played with cars, he played with cars. I played with Barbies, he snatched the Barbies! Growing up, it got worse. I went on vacation; he followed. If I wore a brand twice, his closet would be full of it the next day. Whatever hobby I picked up, he was there in the next class. If I could do it, he could do it. If I couldn't, he could. It really cramped my style. One day I snapped: "You know Dolly the sheep only lived six years, right?" He shrugged. "So? People remembered her for decades." "..." From then on, it was war. Running in the same social circles meant constant clashes. Sarcasm was our love language. Everyone knew we hated each other. Back then, even if someone told me to my face they hated me, I'd politely reply, "Sorry, I already have someone I hate." But since I started needing Chase to live, I visited him constantly. Our friends thought I was plotting his murder. Even when I explained I was just there to visit (kiss) him. Nobody believed me. People actually warned Chase to watch his back. That is what you call a reputation. System: [What are you proud of?] When life is on the line, dignity takes a backseat. I'll never forget Chase's face the first time I kissed him. I had just revived. I was disoriented. Chase rushed in from somewhere, eyes red, suit messy. I saw him and instinctively rolled my eyes. I might have hallucinated it, but he seemed to relax. He looked me over several times before straightening his tie. "You're okay?" I snapped, "Worry about yourself. I'm fine." System: [Cough.] I froze. Chase, seeing I was my usual prickly self, turned to leave. System: [Don't waste the resurrection! Do it now!] 3 I closed my eyes, grabbed Chase's arm, and yanked. Surprisingly, he stumbled toward me easily. He even bent down slightly, cooperating. He looked surprised but smirked. "What game are you playin—" I grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down. His lips were warm and soft. Completely unlike his personality. My eyes were open. I saw Chase's sharp, arrogant eyes widen in genuine confusion. A strange feeling rose in my chest. —I wanted to break his perfect mask. —I wanted to see what was underneath. Chase didn't push me away. Probably because he was in shock. Confidence is conserved; he lost his, so I gained it. I sucked on his lip, just to be mean. He froze completely. The hospital door opened. I shoved him away, pretending nothing happened. Facing the doctor's stare, Chase touched his ear, which was burning red, and left in shame. That night, amidst our usual chat history of insults, Chase sent a single, genuine question mark. I didn't reply. The next day, I ambushed him at his office. Kiss, run. Day three, he caught me. "Are you sick?" I said, "This is the last time. You think you're tasty?" Day four, he grabbed my jaw, veins popping. "Chloe, if I believe you again, I'm a dog." Day five, he texted me the address of his business trip. I chased him around for two months. Two months was enough to convince Chase I was mentally unstable. And enough for him to accept the daily kiss tax. Not just me—Chase's kissing technique improved drastically. I was alive, but living requires thinking about the future. Lying on the sofa, I groaned to the System: [We hate each other, and I'm assaulting him daily. When does this end?] The System sounded tired: [You call that assault... whatever, let me check...] Silence for three seconds. Then a screeching alarm. [Host, we're screwed! This level of intimacy isn't enough anymore!] [What???] [You need to sleep with him now!] I jumped off the couch. [Just kill me!] The System, being an AI with no physical body to harm, stayed calm. [Host, listen. Sleeping renews life faster and lasts longer. Basically, do it ten times, and you're cured. No more contact needed.] I paused. So, if we sleep together, I can live freely? I tested the waters: [...By sleep, do you mean PG-13 or...] System: [This isn't kindergarten.] Oh. I asked with a sliver of hope: [Can I have some time to mentally prepare?] System: [Day after tomorrow, latest.] Okay. Fine. Damn you, System. 4 Saturday morning. Chase texted. [Address] [Dinner tonight.] I had one day left to live. Delay tactics. I wasn't going to spoil him today. Me: [Busy.] Chase: [?] Chase: [Doing what?] I made something up. [Swimming with friends.] Chase took a long time to reply. Just two words. [Thirsty?] [?] I immediately understood. My fist clenched. When I learned to swim, I couldn't breathe right. I swallowed half the pool every time. I thought I hid it well. Until the coach told me to stop drinking or he'd charge me for the water. Embarrassed, I looked around. And saw Chase watching the show. He had just finished a lap, arms resting on the deck, muscles gleaming, skin blindingly white. I rolled my eyes at him. He smirked, the bastard. "Shallow end for sipping, deep end for chugging," he said, then swam off. The coach's laughter echoed through the pool. I hate him. Countless moments like that. Chase haunted my life, witnessing every single embarrassment. [I'm actually mad now. It's war!] System: [...Calm down, boss!] Phone pinged. I picked it up, ready for battle. [If you don't come, no kiss.] "..." System: [What now?] I laughed coldly. Typed: [Look at you, getting serious. I was just joking.] [Smiling_Through_The_Pain.jpg] The System laughed at me. Mercilessly.
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