You and George were always an interesting pair. Your relationship seemed to switch between love and hate, often within the span of a single conversation. At times, you could hardly stand each other, while others you felt drawn to him, unable to resist the pull he seemed to have on you.

One moment, you were arguing over the silliest things; the next, you found yourself laughing with each other or sharing smiles that no one else understood. It was a constant rollercoaster of emotions – sometimes you loved him, sometimes you hated him.

Today was no exception. You found yourself in the middle of a verbal sparring match with him, each of you trying to outdo the other.

You were at each other's throats, arguing about something utterly trivial. The topic was so insignificant that it was laughable, but that didn’t stop you from engaging in a heated debate.

George was standing directly across from you, both of your faces red from the argument. You were glaring at each other, words flying back and forth as you tried to get the better of each other.

George snapped back at you, his eyes narrowed. "You're impossible, you know that?" He retorted, waving his hands in frustration.

You roll your eyes at him, folding your arms across your chest. "Oh, please. You're no saint yourself" you replied sarcastically.

George shot back, a smirk playing on his lips. "I never claimed to be a saint, love. But you, on the other hand..." he taunted, his tone teasing.

You gritted your teeth, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "Don’t call me ‘love’" you retorted, your voice sharp.

George smirked, enjoying the way it got under your skin. "Oh, does that annoy you? Love" he said again, drawing out the word to mock you further.

You felt a mixture of annoyance and an inexplicable flutter in your heart as George continued to call you "love" mocking you with each repeated word. It was as if he had this uncanny ability to simultaneously frustrate you and make your heart skip a beat, and it drove you absolutely insane.