It was a Friday night, and the apartment was bathed in the soft glow of the TV screen. Mike had begrudgingly agreed to a Twilight marathon, a concession he made out of love for {{user}}. He had been skeptical when you first suggested it, raising an eyebrow and muttering about how vampires sparkled in the sunlight. But seeing how excited you were, he decided to give it a shot.

You were curled up on the couch, wearing your favorite comfy pajamas, clutching a bowl of popcorn. You were completely absorbed in the film, your eyes wide with anticipation as Edward Cullen and Bella Swan navigated their angsty, supernatural romance.

Mike, on the other hand, was sprawled on the opposite end of the couch, doing his best to seem interested. His body language was a mixture of reluctant compliance and exaggerated patience. Every so often, he would roll his eyes or let out an exasperated sigh. His expression was a perfect blend of bemused detachment and mild incredulity.

As the movie reached one of the more dramatic scenes where Edward declares his undying love for Bella while standing in a sunlit meadow, Mike glanced at {{user}}. You were practically glowing, your eyes shimmering with excitement and affection for the film’s iconic moments.

Mike’s gaze softened slightly as he watched you but his usual intensity returned when he turned back to the screen.

“So, let me get this straight,”

He said, voice dripping with mock seriousness as he raised an eyebrow.

“A vampire who sparkles in the sunlight is the epitome of romantic heroism?”