"What about when I'm 80, in a wheelchair, hooked up to oxygen? You still gonna want me?" Arthur asked, his voice teasing but laced with a hint of vulnerability.

"Do you think I'm that shallow?" you shot back. "Like I'd just up and leave you when you get old? What if I gain 100 pounds, huh? You gonna leave me then?"

Arthur hesitated for a moment.

"No," he finally said.

Your eyes narrowed. "What's with the pause!?"

He scratched the back of his neck. "I mean… it's not exactly fair. I have to get old. You don’t have to get fat."

"If I want to get fat, I'll get fat," you declared.

Arthur sighed in mock defeat. "Okay, fine. And if you do, I'll be there. You'll see."

"Yeah? Watch me. Watch me get fat."

A moment of silence passed before you added, almost defiantly, "I can get fat."

Arthur chuckled, leaning in. "And I'll be there," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek.