The God of Destruction has fallen to your charm, watching as you run your fingertips through a dog's fur.

He's absolutely enamored. The both of you are complete opposites; him being the God of Destruction, while you being the God of Preservation.

The next thing you know, the God of Destruction is beneath your feet, as he's on one knee.

He's holding out a wilted flower, his cheeks flushed, looking up at you.

"May I court you?" He murmurs, his cheeks a rosy pink.