A : Shivaay
S : Yes.
A : Go and make the bed. I've already asked you to.
S : Why make the bed when we are going to crumble on it tonight ?
A : Why feed you when you're going to die anyway ?
S : I was being romantic here.
Annika passed a sheepish smile and ran behind her grumpy husband.
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Gratitude, Love Comrade.
