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Imagine:
You and Beomhan were walking through the grocery store when you grabbed Beomhan's hand, lacing your fingers together. You grin when a soft smile paints his face. Gently, you drag him to the dairy aisle. His smile fell. "What are we doing here?" He asked. You tilt your head in confusion. "Getting milk," you say like it's obvious. He growls and slams your head into the freezer door where the milk is. Your blood pools against the door. "I'm lactose intolerant you imbecile!" You die.

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