Separate names with a comma.
“It’s just kinda weird,” Alyssa mused with a playful grin. “You know? Strange...”
“No,” she agreed gently. “You stopped yourself.”
“It’s just interesting that it’s the first place he thought to go,” she replied playfully.
Her face fell and she shook her head. “No, Abes. You’re not an assassin. You’re my friend.”
“Ferris seemed to know it well,” Alyssa said innocently, setting the plate in front of her.
She turned to him. “What’s gotten into you?” she asked playfully. “My assassin wants a bed floor?!”
She nodded, beginning to leave.
Alyssa began to load up a plate for her, glancing around. “So... is this your place?”
“Nothing. Nothing,” she said easily, ruffling his hair playfully. “It’s perfect.”
She nodded a head towards the table. “Go ahead and sit.”
She was quiet for a moment before a soft giggle escape her lips. This quickly evolved into low, warm laughter and she held herself, leaning...
She waved it off easily. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on staying for too long. Are you hungry?”
She paused, following him cautiously. “Ba-“ She stopped herself, frowning for a moment. “Abel, do you... do you like that pillow?”
“Passed out is more like it,” she replied. “How are you? How’s Ferris?”
She squinted, turning and looking.
Alyssa was in the kitchen, her blonde hair frizzy from sleep. She was cooking on the stove. “Hey, Fleur,” she said blearily.
She paused, looking back at him, a concerned look on her face. “Oh... sorry,” she said, letting go of his hand. “Instinct, I guess...”
When Fleur woke the next morning, Ferris was still asleep, but there was the smell of food in the kitchen.
She frowned but took his hand gently and tugged him. “Do you want to see where we found the world’s best bean bag chair?”
(Zoop?)
