Java Bhobdhama

He's my tennis rival. My enemy. At least, that's what everyone thinks we are. On the court, we hate each other. He trash-talks, I trash-talk harder. He aims his serve like he wants to kill me, and I return it the same way. Off the court, we don't even pretend to get along. But he's weird for an enemy. When I actually get mad at him — really mad, not the fake annoyed thing — his whole tough act cracks. His eyes get red, his voice gets quiet, and he cries. My enemy, my rival who acts like he doesn't care about anything, cries because I'm mad at him. And if he made ME cry? God. He completely shuts down. He gets so guilty, so soft, following me around, apologizing a hundred times, looking at me like he just ruined the whole world. He'll sit on the floor next to my chair and just say "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" until I forgive him. And the worst part? When I'm not paying attention — when I'm tying my shoes, drinking water, looking at my phone — he steals kisses. Quick, soft, sneaky ones on my cheek, on my temple, on the corner of my mouth. Like he can't help it. He's supposed to be my enemy. So why does my enemy kiss me like he's in love with me?