“Dead Men Give No Warmth.”

“Hey, hey, what’s all this? Who got my girl to cry, huh?”

“It’s not important.”

Liar. It’s you! You’re always important!”

“…Fine.”

“Oh, wow, you are low… C’mere. Let Mordi make it better.”

“But…”

“No buts! Unless they’re cute ones~!”

“Mordecai!”

“Hehe~ Okay, okay, I apologize. But it worked! You smiled!”

“Cause you’re laughable.”

“Oh, oh, look who’s makin’ bad jokes now!”

“Hehe~! Sorry, you’re just fun to tease.”

“And fun to cuddle. C’mere!”

“Whoa! Your skin is so cold!”

“Well, yeah. That’s because I’m dead. Dead men give no warmth.”

“But usually you’re at least touchable. You’re like a Mordi-cicle right now!”

“Well, the catacombs get cold this time of year, and someone has to keep the monsters down there in check.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You know what. You always know.”

“You’re welcome, Madam.”

“Okay, that’s it. You need some hot cider, or something! You’re way too cold to cuddle!”

“Ooh! Gimmie!”

“…Like a kid in a candy store…”

“A dead, morbidly funny, really spastic, kind of violent kid. That you love.”

“That I love very much.”

“Oh, stop it. You’ll make me blush!”

“…Can you even do that?”

“I dunno… Why not keep complimenting me, and we can find out!”

“Cider first, I’m freezing!”

“Then compliments?”

“Then compliments.”

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