More fiction.

H: I won’t mind carrying the world on my shoulders. You are my world.
N: And you are my universe. Ask me why.
H: Why?
N: Because you’re immensely complicated. You have too much going on.
H: …
N: …But you’re easy to look at. And you’re complicated in a way that makes you so, so beautiful.
H: I love the world. Do you love the universe?
N: Yes. Everything about it.

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