"I practice with heavy weights in the courtyard," Samuel defended himself, trying to salvage his romantic, protective aura.
"A deadweght sandbag and a living human body have entirely different centers of gravity, scholar," Heena deadpanned, raising a single, highly judgmental eyebrow. "Just tell me... what exactly do you think I am? A sandbag?"
For the first time in his brilliantly manipulative life, the genius scholar was completely, utterly speechless.
Samuel stood there, holding his fiercely intelligent, impossibly stubborn wife in his arms, his mind completely buffering as it tried to process the sheer absurdity of her logical trap. He had tried to be romantic. He had tried to be the strong, protective husband. And she had somehow turned it into a physics debate about the center of gravity of a sandbag.
He stared at her deeply unamused, challenging expression. Then, he threw his head back and let out a booming, helpless laugh that echoed off the chamber walls.
