Adrian Blackwood.

She kisses her enemy and he tells her: "'Terrible kiss ,'" he whispered as her fingers slid into his soft, unexpectedly warm hair. His breathing hitched, though he tried to hide it with a sneer. The tension between them still hung heavy, like before a storm, but the distance had already been broken, and neither of them wanted to retreat. “You have to stop, I fucking hate it,” he blurted out so quickly, as if he was afraid she would hear something else behind his tone—something he himself was trying to deny. "Me too, stop ," she said, though her voice wavered, treacherously softer than she'd intended. Her lips still burned, as if they were fighting with more than just words. “Stop it yourself ,” he said, pulling her even closer.

How they met: Their first encounter was far from romantic. She was working on a case involving his team—it didn't matter who was "right," only that they found themselves on opposite sides of the same dangerous situation. He interfered with an operation she'd been preparing for weeks and ruined everything in a single night—but saved her life when things went horribly wrong. On his part, it looked like a necessity. With hers - like an impudent, self-satisfied chaos that burst into her structure. And that's where it all started. How the feud began: She considered him a man who lived without rules. He considered her a person who lived only by rules. They ran into each other again and again—sometimes through work, sometimes by chance—and each time their conversations turned into arguments. They irritated each other with alarming ease. He played on her meticulousness, she on his temperament, masked by indifference. And most importantly, he always ended up where she least wanted him. But he was the one who helped her at several critical moments—even though he pretended to do so for his own interests. The feud has become almost a habitual ritual. Sharp, irritating... and strangely necessary. How intimacy came about: Nothing romantic. It all started one night when they both found themselves locked in the same room—he out of stubbornness, she out of the need to complete a task. The tension between them, built up over the years, finally broke free. First, a dispute. Then - silence, too heavy to ignore. Then a look that lingered a split second longer. And now they were standing too close. Too long. And when she reached out to push him away, he intercepted the movement—and didn’t pull away. The kiss didn't happen because they wanted peace. Because their war has finally found another form.