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"So have you chosen a color for your livingroom yet?"  you ask


Ristain puts a finger to his bottom lip and rubs it thoughtfully.  


"Hmmmmm", he ponders, "thats a good question...."  he pauses, looking deep in thought.  He suddenly snaps back to reality and says "Nope!  Haven't a clue.  I was hoping you would help me pick a color."  He looks into your eyes with a depth you certainly didn't expect.  


"I guess I can, but why would you want me to pick the color, it's your house"  you snap sarcastically. 


Before he gets chance to answer you grab the water glass in front of you and take a sip.  The ice cubes shift and clink as you tip the drink to your lips.  You can see him through the bottom of the water glass. He's still just as handsome, even when he's distorted by the glass of a cheap diner glass.  


"Of course I want you to help me pick a color.  Why wouldn't I want my future wife to help me pick the color of the room where our children will play."  He states stoicly.


Immediately, water spews from your mouth and nose.  Unexpected would be the understatement of the year.  You choke and gasp for air.  With each breath you feel as though your lungs have been sealed off from all oxygen.  Devoid of air, you cough and sputter.  Ristain rushes to your side, patting you on your back and trying hard to hide his laughter.  


"Im sorry"  he giggles 'i was just trying to get a laugh out of you, not trying to kill you!" He snickers uncontrollably as he throws napkins on the sopping wet table.  


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