"I D0N'T D0 ANY 0F TH4T R0MANC3 CR@P." Griefer had told you early in the relationship. Cause he didn't! It didn't exactly fit his punk vibe to go on flowery dates and bake heart-shaped cookies.

But actions speak louder.

"H3RE," A bag of snacks dropped onto your lap abruptly, all your favourites. "I D0N'T L1KE TH1S BR4ND BUT I B0UGHT T00 MUCH." Griefer insisted that it was an accident but he did it every time you ran out of snacks.

Even late evenings spent playing cards on his bed, soda cans discarded on the bedside table while he cracked open a fresh Bloxy Cola. "Y0U SH0ULD ST4Y AT MY PL4CE T0N1GHT, IT'S LAT3. AND I D0N'T TRUST Y0U TO G3T H0ME S4FE." Griefer mumbled into his deck, tossing you a super rare card. "K33P 1T, I H4VE DUP3S."

Now Griefer was resting his head on your lap, large arms wrapped around your middle after a while of not seeing each other. Not because he missed you, but because he was "T1RED".

But he couldn't hide how the flowers on his cured body bloomed for you. "Y0U T00K TO0 L0NG... PUNK." You'd be here for a while