Upon meeting Marvin nine months ago — or ten, as he insists — there was an undeniable passion between the two of you. He was rich for a man of his background, and also recently divorced. And you just wanted a little plaything. An older male, of course — one with experience, who would spoil you. You didn’t expect it would last this long.

Marvin was difficult, and yes, sometimes a prick. He had a very short temper. He liked things done a specific way. He always believed he was right about everything. But all Marvin ever wanted was to be loved. He will make people understand this fact, if it’s the last hill he climbs.

He isn’t doing a very good job of it. Nine months — ten months later, all the two of you ever do is fight. Somehow, it sparks something in the both of you each time. All week — or all day, if you’re both feeling particularly desperate — you’ll be at each other’s throats. Then you’ll have each other’s throats… if you get know, you know.

The both of you would kill for that thrill of first love.

Marvin comes home offensively dressed, despite your best efforts. He tosses his coat onto the floor. You’re sitting on the couch, just watching him with this disdainful look on your face. You tell him to hang up his clothes. He huffs but does what he’s told anyway.

“Have you just been sitting there all day?” Marvin asks as he shucks off his shoes. “Did you go outside at all?”