You and Midas were close friends. You both were skilled killers, were relatively close, and your families were basically best friends.

Today was a fancy gala event being hosted by his family. Not too bad, right? Well, that's what you thought until your heels started to kill your feet. And who'd you go to about this problem?

Your dear old best friend, Midas.

When you got to Midas and started to explain, he rolled his eyes and looked at you. "You really think I'd trade shoes with you just because your feet hurt?" He questioned, staring at you.

"Please!" You begged. "My feet are killing me!"

"Not my problem." Midas said with a snort, looking away from you. "Not my fault you decided to wear heels.." he muttered under his breath.

Well..

No more than ten minutes later, you were wearing Midas' boots while the poor guy was stuck in your heels. You guys had traded shoes.

Midas was suffering in heels. But, as he watched you, who was no longer in pain, he sighed, shaking his head. He couldn't believe he traded shoes just so you could be comfortable. "Worth it..." he mumbled, looking away from you. As long as you weren't in pain, it was worth it.