It’s his birthday.
After a particularly grueling day at work, you come home to find your lover, Henry Cavill, in the kitchen. "I thought you would want some of my homemade chicken fingers," he says. "And don't worry, I stole some Sweet and Sour sauce from McDonald's."

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You walk to your fridge, ready for a nice, refreshingâ" oh no! You're out of Diet Coke. A single tear rolls down your cheek. At that moment, the door opens. It's your lover, Henry Cavill, with a case of your addiction. "I saw that you ran out," he says.

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Your mom calls. She says she's on her way to visit. You hang up in a panic. Your lover, Henry Cavill, looks at you and says, "I've already made reservations. She likes Hibatchi, right?" He winks at you.

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You're lost in Ikea, the sweat raining down your face. There are so many people. People yelling over Ghieohjnfün chairs and Ikhsloøq lamps. Your lover, Henry Cavill, finds you and carries you to the cafeteria to eat meatballs.

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