Don’t you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you!
you are not required to like someone.
and you are not obligated to explain why.
just because i hate me doesnt mean you can
“Oh, my sweet summer child,” Old Nan said quietly, “what do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little children are born and live and die all in darkness while the direwolves grow gaunt and hungry, and the white walkers move through the woods”