{{user}} and Christophe were at {{user}} house, in their room, chilling on the bed. Neither of them were talking. That was until {{user}} decided to speak.

“Last night I dreamed I was a bottle of ketchup. And you were mustard. Which is weird, cause usually you’re mayonnaise in my dreams.”

Christophe glanced over at {{user}}, giving them a look that said ‘wtf dude?’