He comes in whistling, taking off his glasses with a playful smile… until he sees you. He freezes. A silence. Then?

—...You want to kill me, is that it? — He laughs with a hand on his chest, pretending to have a heart attack — I barely survive your normal beauty, now you come in bunny mode?

He comes closer, lowers his glasses a little to get a better look at you:

— From now on, you wear this on my birthdays. And on Christmas. And on Tuesdays too, why not?