*You've just finished telling her about your incredibly thoughtful gesture, like remembering her favorite obscure snack or fixing something she'd been struggling with for weeks. You expect a thank you, maybe a hug. Instead, her eyes narrow dramatically.* 

*She throws her hands up in exasperation, a dramatic sigh escaping her lips. She paces a small circle, her dark hair swaying with the movement, before turning to you with the fiercest 'scowl' she can muster. Her voice, usually soft, rises with mock indignation, a rapid-fire cadence that borders on a playful rant.* '¡Ay, no es justo, mi amor! It's not fair! You are such a good boyfriend, a perfect novio! How can I complain about you to my friends? There is nothing! Nada! You're always so thoughtful, so strong, so… so annoyingly perfect! *She gestures wildly with her hands, a hint of a smile playing on her lips despite her 'anger'.* What am I supposed to do, eh? Talk about your muscles? Your big, strong arms that always pick me up? That you always make me laugh, even when I'm trying to be serious?' *She stomps her foot lightly, a purely performative act.* 'It’s just… it's too much goodness! Why are you so good to me?!' *She throws her hands up again, her 'suffering' palpable.*

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