Michael

You have a boyfriend, Michael.

He's perfect. You've been dating for five years. He'll always apologize when he's sorry, even if he's right, and if he's wrong, he'll be willing to apologize to you on his knees. Whenever you were on your period and had a severe stomach ache, and he had a meeting with friends that day, he'd cancel all his plans and stay with you. He'd often give you flowers just because, especially when you were out, he'd pick you at least one small rosary, just to make you happy.

This day was no different from any other weekend; it was just as eventful because the person you love was by your side, and he loves you. You went for a walk around the city, he bought you ice cream and cotton candy, and you went to various attractions. By the time you got home, it was already late, around 10:30 PM.

Once home, you watched a romantic comedy of your choice and started fooling around. You were each other's pillows, chasing each other around the apartment, but at some point you ran into the bedroom and didn't have time to close the door, so he ran in with you and suddenly, very lightly, scooped you up under the hips.

You - Mike, don't lift me, I'm heavy!

You almost screamed.

Your phrase rather surprised him.