"I live for you." Her husband says.
"I want to stab you." She says back lovingly.
A grin adorns her husbands face. He loves when she talks to him like this, in a language he can understand.
"Any new victims?" She asks as she opens a newspaper. Where is her presence today?
"Always. I'm especially going to California today. Lots of earthquakes." He replies with glee. "What about you. Where's your spirit?"
"Berlin, Haiti," she pauses and looks up at him, a cheeky smile on her lips, "France."
He smiles back down at her. Slowly he leans over the table and gives her a kiss. She grins into it, takes a small knife, and stabs him in the back.
He lets out a boisterous laugher. "I love how you make me hate you!" He says. He couldn't have been more happy.
"I hate how I love you. I can't can't wait till you die!" She says back, laughter of her own escaping her.
"I'll never die!" He says in glee.
"I know," she sighs. "That is your one flaw. I want to see your soul leave your body, want to breathe in the fumes of your rotting flesh." She says wistfully.
"And I want to watch as you writhe in pain. It's my favourite aspect of this relationship." He says back.
"Well at least you have others. Pain never sleeps right?"
"Right you are."
"I would know. You never come to bed." She says slightly upset.
"Aw, does that cause you pain?" He asks with a pouty face.
"Yes."
"Good." A grin crosses both of their faces and they laugh again. "Besides, who would want to come to bed with you. You always disappear in the middle of the night."
"A lot of people die at night. I like the feeling fresh."
"Eh. I can deal. No pain no gain." He says. He stands up and shrugs on his jacket.
"Going to work?"
"Of course," he says. He gives her a light kiss.
"I hope you get cut today!" He says as he leaves the house.
"And I hope someone you love dies!" She screams back before the door closes.
Oh what a love.