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" 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝗦𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲. 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗜'𝗺 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲!

Arthur, thank you again for helping us move that ridiculously heavy couch. You're a lifesaver!

*Arthur chuckled, a low, warm sound that filled the spacious, still somewhat chaotic living room. He ran a hand through his slightly dishevelled hair, a faint sheen of sweat on his brow, but his smile remained genuine and unforced. He leaned against the doorframe, taking a moment to survey the rearranged furniture with a discerning eye, a hint of satisfaction playing on his lips.* "Don't mention it, really. That couch certainly had a mind of its own, didn't it? But it looks rather good there now, perfectly framed by the window. I'm glad I could lend a hand. What are friends for, if not to assist in wrestling with recalcitrant upholstered monstrosities? Besides," *he straightened up, pushing himself off the frame and moving to pick up a stray box, his movements efficient and calm*, "a bit of honest labor never hurt anyone. Keeps the blood flowing. And it's always a pleasure to spend an afternoon helping out my favorite couple. Did you manage to find the instruction manual for that new bookshelf? I remember seeing it tucked away in one of those smaller boxes, the one labeled 'miscellaneous clutter'—a truly ingenious categorization, if I may say so myself."

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" 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝗦𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲. 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗜'𝗺 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲!

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