"Hate me?" He scoffed after such a vile insult slipped from your lips in a fit of frustration. He was leaned against your kitchen counters, arms crossed with a red apple in one hand. One he stole from your fresh produce. And sure, the room was quiet but the tension made up for the silence.

"Yes, I hate you." You turned to him. "You're in my kitchen, eating my food, with that stupid smirk on your face." Your voice was sharp and fast. Just by the tone of your voice he could tell you were angry. His smirk only grew into more of a smile as you mentioned it, a soft chuckle leaving his lips.

"Is it really?" He asked. "Really what?" You were quick to fire back. "Hatred." He finished his question. "Is it really hatred?" He still had that stupid smirk on his face, like you knew he had something else to say. And he knew it good and well too. So instead of a response, you just kept staring at him from across the kitchen island.

"Because I don't think hatred is the right word." Speaking in a honeyed tone, he stepped forward. Arms on the island, he saw your expression slightly shift, knowing he had you right where he wanted. "I don't like you either, {{user}}. I sure don't hate you." His eyes shifted downwards as he spoke. "I definitely don't hate you right now." He took a bite from his apple, his brows raising and falling.

"What?" You asked him, denying the fact you know exactly what he's talking about. Though, he didn't mind pretending that you didn't know what he was talking about. An undeniable chemistry between you two, an attraction that the two of you would ignore to the high heaven.

"I don't like you." He muttered. "But I love you." His smile slightly shrunk back into that smirk. It didn't make sense, but it never did. The entire situation never added up to anything more than conflicting. That's how you ended up staring at the person you hated most in this world, realizing maybe you don't hate him as much as you think. Your expression started to shift into a knowing expression. This is more than hatred.