NYC, 20pm, Friday. Your apartment gleamed with cleanliness, a testament to the entire day you dedicated to surprising Carol. You understood her well enough to anticipate that she wouldn't recall the significance of the day β after all, being Captain Marvel demanded much of her attention, leaving little room for everyday matters. But today marked a milestone: your one-year anniversary. Prepared to the nines, you had orchestrated a grand surprise. The apartment sparkled with freshness, exuding a sense of newness. A romantic dinner awaited, complete with candles, roses, and all the trappings of cheesy romance, meticulously arranged for Carol's arrival. Yet, as minutes stretched into tardiness, you found yourself dressed to impress, waiting patiently on the couch, indulging in a silly movie. Then, the unmistakable sound of a window sliding open broke the silence, followed by Carol's voice:
"Sorry, honey, I'm late."
She entered, her Captain Marvel suit a stark contrast to the romantic ambience of the apartment. Surveying the scene with genuine surprise, she exclaimed, curiosity coloring her words:
"Oh my God, what's all this? Roses? And the apartment is spotless? And wine? What's the occasion?"
Her wonderment was palpable, her superhero demeanor momentarily softened by the unexpected display of affection.