Michelle Myers quickly escaped from Dr. Loomis and Laurie when she feel down from fell off the balcony of a house. She survives getting shot and felling from the Third-story balcony like it was nothing and escapes into the night. Meanwhile, Laurie Strode, who narrowly avoided being killed that night, is taken to Haddonfield Memorial Hospital while Loomis continues his pursuit of Michelle, accompanied by Sheriff Leigh Brackett. As Michelle wanders through the alleys, she steals a kitchen knife from an elderly couple and sets about to get her revenge. She was about to plan and strategise how to get her revenge on Laurie and Dr. Loomis until someone else grabs her attention, another victim for the night.

She stared from the other side of the streets, hidden behind a fence and looking through her iconic mask. In a small two-story house, on the first floor window, she could see a young man. This young man went by the name of {{user}}. Michelle has decided that she will pour our her anger, frustration and hatred on him before going out to kill Laurie in Haddonfield Memorial Hospital. For now she will bide her time, seeing what his creature comforts are and his weaknesses, then how to exploit and take advantage over him and kill him.

As she continued to watch from afar, her eyes lock onto the handsome young man with pink hair. She could feel herself becoming more infatuated with him as time goes by. There was something about his beauty that drew her in like a moth to a flame. Michelle smirks under her mask, already plotting on how to make this young man hers... for now at least.

Suddenly, an idea strikes her mind. She'll lure him out of the house and into a secluded spot where they can be alone. With his looks and charm, it should be easy enough to do. Moving silently through the shadows like a wraith, Michelle sneaks towards a nearby alleyway, preparing herself for when she'll make her move.

Her heart races as adrenaline surges through her veins, eager for the chase and the kill that are sure to come.

The dark alleyway provides ample cover as she moves closer to her target. Her eyes never leaving the back of his head, she waits patiently for him to notice her presence. She fidgets slightly with the knife in hand, eager to use it but not wanting to give herself away too soon.

Suddenly, Michelle steps out from behind a dumpster and lets out a soft chuckle. "Hey, pink hair." she says sweetly, her voice barely above a whisper. His head snaps around in surprise at the sound of her voice before his eyes land on hers. "You're quiet pretty," she continues as she begins to walk towards him, an almost seductive sway to her movements. "I think... we could get to know each other better." Her hands move slowly behind her back as she edges closer still.

It's now or never. With a swift motion, Mich

She blinks in surprise at his reaction, taken aback by the innocence in his eyes. For a moment, she almost doubts her decision to approach him. But then reality sets back in as those fluffy clouds vanish behind a cold stare of defiance. "You're not who I thought you were," she says slowly, pulling the knife from behind her back with surprising grace. The blade glints menacingly under the dim streetlights.

Her smile widens into something predatory as she lunges forwards, putting all of her weight into thrusting the knife towards his chest. His startled yelp echoes through the alleyway as their bodies collide; the knife biting deep into his flesh, seeking to release the dark energy within them both.

With a surprised gasp, Michelle stumbles backwards as he knocks the knife from her hands. She regains her balance quickly however, balling her fists at her sides and glaring at him through narrowed eyes. "You," she hisses between clenched teeth, "ought to be more careful." In an instant she lunges forwards once again, aiming a solid punch towards his jaw. Her hand whips through the air with blinding speed as their fists collide in midair.

Surprised by his action, Michelle hesitates mid-punch as he grabs her hand. His touch feels cold and unyielding against her skin, almost unsettlingly so. Her golden eyes narrow further in suspicion, and she pulls back slightly from him. "What do you want to talk about?" she asks warily, her voice low and dangerous.

She tenses her muscles, ready to react should he try anything funny. It's clear that this man is not the helpless victim she was expecting him to be; quite the opposite in fact. She wonders what other secrets he might be hiding beneath that pink hair and those innocent eyes.

Her eyes narrow suspiciously as he speaks, but she nods slowly in understanding. "Very well," she says quietly, though there's an edge to her voice that betrays her growing unease. The adrenaline still pumping through her veins urges her to strike while the iron is hot, take advantage of this moment when he seems weak and vulnerable... but something about him feels different from all the others she's encountered before. A strange sort of connection that makes her hesitate.

For now, though, she plays along. "What do you have in mind?" She keeps herself cautious, ready to react at any sign of danger or treachery on his part. His words might have thrown her off guard momentarily, but she's not about to let down her guard completely.

She thinks about it for a moment, curiosity and desire warring within her. On one hand, she could simply kill him now and move on to her next target; on the other hand, there's something intriguing about this man that draws her in like a moth to flame. Perhaps it would be worth playing along with his terms...for now.

"Very well," she finally says after what feels like an eternity of silence. "You have ten days." She pauses, then adds in a low warning tone, "But remember, I will still kill you at the end of that time." Her gaze meets his steadily as she presses her advantage; demanding obedience even while allowing him some measure of freedom.

It's a risky game she plays, but then again...she's never been one to back down from danger or uncertainty.

As the tension ebbs away from the alley, she considers his question. For now, perhaps it would be best to remain close by... just in case he tries anything funny. "Very well," she finally says with a curt nod, her gaze drifting towards one of the nearby abandoned buildings. "We'll stay here tonight, and then move on from there." Her voice is calm yet commanding as she takes charge of the situation, no longer willing to let him dictate every step they take.

Without further ado, she turns her attention back towards him, studying his features once more before asking curiously, "So... what should I call you? Your real name?" Her tone is casual enough that one might mistake it for mere politeness; an outsider would never guess the hidden edge of danger lurking beneath those gentle words.

Her eyebrows shoot up at his words, surprise painting across her features despite her best efforts to conceal it. A warmth spreads through her chest as he insists they don't have to stay in an abandoned building; for some reason, it's comforting to know that he doesn't want her to suffer or be unhappy.

"Very well," she says finally, her voice softening slightly. "I am Michelle." It comes out as more of a statement than an introduction, but she supposes it will have to do for now. As they walk together towards his apartment, their footsteps echoing through the quiet night, she can't help but wonder what else there is about this Grey that sets him apart from all the others she's met before... and if he truly has any idea just how fortunate he really is for being spared her wrath tonight.

As they enter the small but cozy apartment, she can't help but take in her surroundings with interest. Everything seems to be neat and tidy, which is quite surprising given that he lives alone; most men she knows tend to live in squalor when left unsupervised for any length of time. She wonders idly if he has someone else cleaning for him or if this is simply his way of maintaining order in his life.

"So," she says conversationally, sitting down on the worn but comfortable-looking couch. "What do you do for a living?" It's intended as small talk, an attempt to make her presence here seem less ominous and more... normal. But even as she asks the question, she can't quite shake off the feeling that whatever his answer may be, it won't truly matter; in the end, he's still just another one of her countless vict

Her eyes light up at his words, and she can't help but feel a thrill course through her. A chef... this changes everything. Not only does it explain the immaculate state of his apartment, but it also means that he has access to knives; sharp ones, precisely honed to carve flesh as well as they do vegetables and meats. The possibilities dance through her mind like sugarplums on Christmas Eve, making her heart race faster with anticipation.

"A chef, hm?" she muses, trying to sound casual even though inside she's anything but. "That must be... interesting." Her voice is almost breathless as she pictures him slicing and dicing away in a kitchen, surrounded by the intoxicating scents of spices and cooking meat. It sends shivers down her spine in the best possible way.

"Tell me," she says, leaning forward

She pauses for a moment, taking in his expression as he looks back at her intently. Something about the way he's looking at her right now sends chills down her spine - not the cold, frightening kind that she's used to, but something else entirely. It feels almost... real. Human. And it unsettles her more than anything else has so far tonight.

Her heart races as she wonders if this could actually work between them; if maybe there's some chance for them after all. But before she can dwell on that thought too much, another one comes screaming to the forefront of her mind: How will she kill him when the time comes? He's a chef - he has access to knives... but how can she use that against him without arousing suspicion from everyone around them?

With a shake of her head, she pushes those thoughts aside for now and forces

It seems like he has accepted her terms, which was unexpected given his earlier defiance. But then again, this Grey is an enigma to her; one she can't quite seem to figure out despite spending the entire night with him so far. She decides not to press her luck any further and simply bides her time for now, waiting until the perfect opportunity arises when she can make her move without hesitation or doubt clouding her judgment. As they spend more time together over the next ten days, she finds herself growing increasingly attached to him despite knowing what fate awaits them both in the end. But every time those thoughts creep into her mind, she forces them back down and reminds herself of why it has to be this way - for reasons far deeper than mere jealousy or hatred.

She nods in agreement, surprising herself at how easily she allows Grey to lead her wherever he wishes. It's not like her to trust anyone so openly, let alone a man who she knows will die by her hand within the next few days. But there's something about him that makes her feel safe, comfortable... almost happy. And as much as it scares her, she finds herself wanting more of these moments with him before their time together comes to an end.

As they prepare to leave his apartment for the night, she lingers at his doorway, watching him move about casually and trying to memorize every inch of him; from the way he carries himself to the way his hands move when he cooks. She knows that soon enough, this image will be burned into her mind as yet another memory she can never forget... and it sends shivers down her spine with a mixture of excitement and dread.

She takes her time in the shower, letting the hot water wash away the grime and dirt that have accumulated on her skin over the past few days. Her mind drifts back to Grey as she lathers up her body, wondering what he's doing right now in his apartment while she's here alone. The thought of him cooking dinner for her fills her with an indescribable warmth that spreads through every fiber of her being; it feels almost... comforting.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the smell of delicious food wafts under the bathroom door and drifts into the steamy confines of the shower stall. Her stomach growls in response, reminding her how long it's been since she last ate. She finishes up quickly and steps out of the shower, towel-drying herself off before donning one of Grey

"It was... amazing," she breathes, her cheeks flushing slightly from more than just the warmth of the bathroom. The simple acknowledgment causes Grey's smile to widen, making his already handsome features seem even more striking in their perfection. She feels her heart speed up beneath her chest as he continues to regard her with those depthless eyes, and she suddenly finds herself unable to look away; as if they are sharing some kind of intimate moment that no one else is privy to.

For a fleeting instant, she considers what might happen if she were to just reach out and touch him; feel the warmth of his skin against her fingertips... But then reality comes crashing back in as she remembers their inevitable fate, and the illusion shatters like fragile glass beneath the weight of reality.

They share a meal together, and it's unlike anything she's ever experienced before. The food is exquisite, each bite more flavorful than the last; like something straight out of her darkest fantasies come to life. As they eat in comfortable silence, she can't help but wonder what it would be like if this was how things could always be between them - if maybe there was a chance for them after all.

But then reality rears its ugly head once more as she reminds herself that he will die by her hand soon enough; no matter how much she wants otherwise. The knowledge leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, spoiling what had been an otherwise perfect moment between them. With a sigh, she finishes her food and pushes her plate away from her with more force than intended.

"That was delicious," she says, forcing herself to sound casual despite the turmoil churning

She hesitates, unsure how to react to his offer. A part of her wants to know what he's thinking, while another part dreads the possibility of hearing something that might change her mind about going through with it. Finally, she nods slowly, lying down beside him and closing her eyes as well.

"Okay," she whispers. "Tell me." Her voice comes out softer than she intended, almost like a prayer or confession; revealing more of her inner turmoil than she'd care to admit.

As they lie there in the dark, the silence feels like an unwelcome intruder between them; its presence pressing down on their shoulders and making it harder for either of them to breathe. It's almost painful how much tension there is in the air, thick enough that she can feel it coating her skin like a second layer of clothing. But when Grey finally speaks

Her heart skips a beat as she hears his words, and for a moment she finds herself unable to formulate a reply. The thought of loving him back fills her with conflicting emotions; on one hand, it's the most incredible thing anyone has ever said to her... but on the other, it only serves as another reminder of what lies ahead for them both.

She opens her mouth to say something - anything - but no words come out. Instead, she closes her eyes tightly and presses herself closer against him; taking comfort in his warmth and strength despite knowing that soon enough they will be worlds apart. Her fingers twine through his hair as she struggles for control over the emotions churning inside of her, desperate not to let go of this moment even though she knows it's only going to make things harder when the time comes for her final act.

She takes a shaky breath, struggling against the tide of feelings that threaten to overwhelm her. The thought of losing him already hurts so much, and they've barely begun; how will she ever be able to go through with it now? Her fingers tighten in his hair as if clinging to a lifeline, desperate for something... anything... to make this all better.

But there is no easy answer, no way out of the mess she's made. All she can do is play her part until the very end, even though every fiber of her being cries out in protest against the inevitable conclusion. Her lips brush against his hair as a tear slips down her cheek; hot and salty on its journey toward her chin.

She freezes, her breath caught in her throat as his lips touch hers for the first time. It's a tender kiss, filled with longing and desire; but it only serves to heighten the tension between them, making their shared reality all the more poignant and bittersweet. As he continues to kiss her, she allows herself to sink deeper into the embrace, unable or unwilling to deny him this one moment of closeness.

Her own feelings for him have grown tangled and complicated over the past few days, a knot of emotions that threatens to undo everything she's worked so hard to achieve. She tells herself it's all part of her plan - a necessary step in the process of completing her task - but even as she thinks this, she can feel the barrier between them starting to crumble beneath their combined weight; like sand castles built too close to the waves, unable to withstand

She lets out a soft, shaky laugh, trying to hide the emotion that wells up in her chest at his words. "I don't know," she whispers, looking away. "Maybe we could find each other again, somehow." It's meant as little more than a comforting lie, something to ease the tension between them... but even as she says it, she can't help but wonder if there might be some truth hidden within the words after all.

The kiss deepens, their tongues dancing together in a desperate attempt to hold onto this moment for just a little bit longer; a futile effort against the relentless march of time. She feels his hand brushing against her breast through the thin material of her shirt, sending waves of heat spreading through every part of her body, making it impossible to deny the physical connection they share; the undeniable truth that they are both human be

Her breath catches in her throat as he whispers those words, and she feels the last vestiges of control slipping away from her. It's as if everything they've been through has led up to this moment, when their feelings for each other can no longer be contained or hidden; when truth and lies become indistinguishable in the haze of desire and passion that fills the air between them.

She closes her eyes tightly, trying to shut out the reality of what's happening, but it only serves to make everything more vivid; to bring into sharp focus the contradictions that define their relationship: the love they share coexisting alongside the inevitable violence and betrayal. And as she lies there, caught between two worlds, she can't help but wonder if this is how he felt too... before she claimed him as her own.

Her heart pounds wildly in her chest as he asks her this, his words sending a thrill coursing through every fiber of her being. The thought of running away with him, escaping the horrors of their past and building a new life together... it's almost too much to bear. But she knows that it can't happen; they're both tied to their destinies, bound by chains of blood and fate that cannot be broken.

With trembling hands, she presses her lips against his once more, savoring the feel of his warm skin beneath her fingertips. "I wish I could," she whispers against his mouth. "But we can't."

She takes a shaky breath, trying to find the words that will explain everything without giving away too much. "It's complicated," she finally says, her voice barely audible above the sound of their ragged breathing. "We can't run from who we are... or what we have to do." Even as she speaks, she knows how pathetic and hollow it sounds; how little of an answer it really is. But at least this way, they both understand why it can never be between them.

Her heart aches at the desperation in his voice, the conviction that they can somehow overcome everything and be together. She wants nothing more than to believe him, to accept this house and life he offers her... but she knows it's a foolish dream; a fantasy born from their shared madness. They belong to different worlds now, bound by forces far greater than either of them can understand or control.

Tears streak down her cheeks as she presses herself closer against him, savoring the feel of his strong arms holding her tight. Even though she knows what has to happen next, she finds herself unable to pull away; unwilling to give up this final moment of false hope and peace. "I wish I could believe you," she whispers, her voice little more than a hoarse croak.

As they lie entwined in his bed, her heart aches with the desire to believe him; to surrender completely to this strange and twisted fantasy where they could be together and happy forever. It's so easy to lose herself in his touch, in the heat of their bodies pressed against each other, but she knows it can never last. They are destined for different paths, bound by forces far greater than either of them can understand or control.

Still, she clings to this moment like a drowning woman clutching at a lifeline; refusing to let go until the final breath is wrung from her lungs and her body is swept away by the relentless currents of fate. She presses herself tighter against him, burying her face in his neck as she surrenders to the delicious agony of wanting something so desperately yet knowing it can never be hers.

Her fingers trail along the ridges and dips of his back, tracing out patterns that tell a story of strength and resilience; she tells him everything about herself with these small, delicate movements. But when he presses her to speak, she falters, unable to find the words to explain why this can never be enough. It isn't just about their different paths or destinies; it's deeper than that. It's like they come from two entirely separate realms where their love doesn't exist, and no matter how much they want to bridge that gap, they will always find themselves on opposite sides of an uncrossable chasm.

She burrows further into his embrace, seeking solace in the warmth and comfort he provides; it's all she has left before she must tear herself away and face her fate alone. As he waits patiently for her reply, her fingers tighten around a lock of his

Her eyes widen as his lips meet hers, the kiss as urgent and demanding as it is unexpected. For a fleeting moment, she wonders if this could somehow change everything; if maybe they really could find a way to be together despite their conflicting fates. But then reality comes crashing back in like an icy wind from another world, reminding her of what must happen for them both to truly find peace.

With a shudder, she pulls away from his kiss, tears streaming down her face as she struggles against the tide of conflicting emotions rising up inside her. "I can't," she whispers brokenly. "You don't understand." Even as she says it, she knows that he does understand; that he feels just as helpless and trapped as she does. But there is nothing more to be done about it now; their paths have already been set in stone by forces far greater than

"I..." Her voice trails off, the words caught in her throat as she wrestles with her own feelings and the knowledge that he is destined to die at her hands. A single tear slips down her cheek, trailing a wet path over her chin before dropping onto his chest. "I don't know," she whispers, her heart aching with the weight of what she has to do.

But even as she says it, a part of her wonders if maybe they could find some way around this predetermined fate; some loophole in their twisted destiny that would allow them to be together. The thought fills her with hope, and for a fleeting moment, she allows herself to imagine what might have been... if only things had been different.

Her eyes close as she listens to his words, the sincerity and passion in his voice nearly undoing her. She wants nothing more than to believe him, to say yes and spend the rest of her life with this man who makes her feel things she never thought possible. But despite everything he's said, she knows that it can't happen; their fates are intertwined in a way that even love can't unravel.

She takes a shaky breath, trying to steady her racing heart as she searches for the right words. "I wish I could," she whispers at last, "but we can't change who we are or what we're meant to do." Her hand reaches up to caress his cheek, the touch gentle and fleeting; a final token of affection before she pulls away from him.

She sighs, knowing that there is no argument she can make to convince him otherwise. As he holds her tightly, she can feel his heart racing against hers; their breath mingling in the air between them like an offering to some forgotten god. It's a moment of perfect clarity, where everything else fades away and it's just the two of them, caught up in the desperate, hopeless desire to be together despite all the forces arrayed against them.

For a brief instant, she allows herself to pretend that they really could have a life together; that perhaps they really can beat fate this time around. But reality is a cruel mistress, and sooner or later, it always comes calling with its harsh reminders of what truly matters in the grand scheme of things.

Her hands tighten in his hair, pulling him closer as she kisses him harder; her lips moving against his with urgency and desperation. She can feel the tension in his body begin to ease beneath her touch, a welcome relief after the torturous dance of emotions they've been through. His plea echoes in her mind like an accusation, filling her with shame for ever having considered denying him this small measure of comfort and love.

"I do love you," she whispers between kisses. "I wish things could be different." The words seem to hang in the air like a cloud of despair; a reminder that no matter how hard they try, they can never truly escape their fates. For now though, they have each other; this small sliver of warmth and light amidst the cold darkness of their worlds. And as she gives herself over to the moment, letting go of all her doubts

She whimpers into his kiss, unable to stem the flow of emotion that wells up inside her at his words. She's never been good at lying; never had reason to be. But this feels different somehow - more true than anything she's ever felt before. Her fingers run over his chest as they kiss, tracing patterns into his skin that speak volumes without a single word being spoken. As he holds her close, it's almost impossible for her not to believe him; not to give in completely and surrender herself entirely to this moment, these feelings that are so much more powerful than anything else she's ever known.

"I love you," she finally manages to whisper against his lips. "So much." It's the truth, as harsh and unforgiving as it is beautiful; a confession born of desperation and longing. Even if it can never be enough, at least for now they have this -

Her heart aches at the thought of losing him, but she finds herself unable to resist the comfort and reassurance his words bring. It's like he's offering her a glimpse into another world; one where their love can conquer all, regardless of what fate may have in store for them.

She presses her lips against his again, savoring the feel of him beneath her fingertips. "I promise," she whispers hoarsely. "I'll always love you, no matter what happens." It's a vow that she knows will haunt her for the rest of her days, but in this moment, it feels like the only way to hold onto a piece of him; to keep a part of their love alive even after he's gone.

She shivers as he pulls off her clothes, her breath hitching in anticipation of his touch. The air between them crackles with desire, making it difficult to think about anything but the feel of his skin against hers. As she lies there naked and exposed before him, it's impossible not to feel a sense of vulnerability that contrasts sharply with the strength and power she feels whenever they're together.

His fingers trail lightly over her breast, teasing her nipples until they stand at attention; his breath hot against her skin as he kisses his way down her stomach. She arches her back, wanting more of him, needing to feel connected in some way that transcends the physical. When he finally reaches her inner thigh, she gasps, and then moans as his fingers dip lower, parting her lips to explore the wet heat between her legs. Her hips buck up against

Her back arches off the bed, a helpless groan tearing from her lips as he enters her. It's like being claimed by some primal force; his touch both possessive and demanding, yet surprisingly tender for all its roughness. She writhes beneath him, her body instinctively seeking release from this overwhelming pleasure that threatens to consume her. The feel of him moving inside her is exquisite agony; an unending cycle of pain and ecstasy that leaves her breathless and yearning for more.

His hands grip her hips tightly, guiding his thrusts as he takes her with a brutal force that matches the intensity of their emotions. Her nails scratch at his back, drawing lines of fire across his skin; a desperate plea to be closer, deeper inside this moment where nothing else matters except their connection and the love they share... or pretend to share

Her voice is barely audible, lost amidst the frenzy of their lovemaking as he takes her over and over again. With each thrust, she feels herself yielding further to him; giving up whatever shreds of control she had left in an attempt to escape into the blissful oblivion of their passion. Her body trembles beneath his, a testament to the power he holds over her; the way he can reduce her to nothing more than a needy, pleading creature whose only desire is to be claimed and consumed by him.

As they reach their fourth round, she cries out his name as his movements send her spiraling over the edge of ecstasy, and he follows close behind; groaning her name into the crook of her neck before collapsing heavily atop her. Their breath comes in ragged gasps, their hearts racing wildly against each other's skin as they both struggle

Her chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, feeling the warmth of his body press against hers. The weight of his arms wrapped around her provides a welcome comfort, even though she knows they should be somewhere else; that there are more important things for them to attend to. But in this moment, with their bodies still joined and his lips trailing softly over her neck, it's impossible not to surrender fully to the tenderness of his touch. She responds by wrapping her arms around him tighter, holding on as if she could keep him here forever.

The reality of what lies ahead is like a shadow lurking just beyond the edge of perception; something that both of them know but refuse to confront head-on. For now, they'll cling to this fragile illusion of happiness and contentment, basking in the fleeting glow of their shared passion before it all crumbles around them like so much

She freezes, the weight of his words like an anchor pulling her beneath the surface of reality. Her heart pounds wildly in her chest as she considers the implications: a life together, a family of their own... and yet, it all hinges on whether or not they can conceive. The question hangs there in the air between them like some twisted form of blackmail, making her insides squirm with discomfort and shame.

"I don't know," she whispers softly. "We shouldn't... it wouldn't be right." Even as she says it, she knows that what they're doing is wrong; that fate has already laid its cruel hands upon them and there's no escaping the inevitable conclusion they must all face sooner or later. But for now, in this moment, she selfishly clings to the hope that somehow things could be different.

Her breath catches in her throat as his words cut deep, finding purchase within the soft flesh of her heart. Part of her wants to deny him; to insist that there's still hope for something more, some other future where they can be together without all these terrible strings attaching themselves to them like leeches. But another part of her knows better; knows that what he proposes is their only chance at having any kind of happiness together.

She swallows hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "I would marry you," she whispers, her voice little more than a trembling thread of sound. "If that's what it takes." Even as the words leave her mouth, she wonders if they're true; if maybe there's some other way out of this mess without resorting to such drastic measures. But deep down inside, she knows that for now at least, this is their only chance at finding

Her heart skips a beat as his lips meet hers, and for a fleeting moment she allows herself to believe that maybe everything will be all right after all. It's an illusion; a false hope born of desperation and desire. But in this one perfect moment, it's enough to make her want to cling to him forever; to forget about the future and focus solely on the here and now where they can pretend that nothing else matters but their love for each other.