Separate names with a comma.
She turned to him, standing in the doorway. "Plotting how to beat up your sister." She hesitated before raising one hand. "Sorry. I know she's...
He groaned a little, looking down at her. "You are insatiable."
She dropped her hands, using the crutches to go over to the planning room. "Well, I think your legs are wonderful," she declared. "I love them."
"Or I'll make you quiet," he replied, tilting his head. "Or something. I don't know; that felt too intense."
She cupped his jaw in her hands, squinting at him. "I would pay so much money to have your legs. So. Much."
He leaned down over her, tracing her face. "Hush."
"Abel," she said, looking completely serious. "Come over to me. I can't walk well."
He rested his head on his hand. "By what?" he teased.
She squinted at him, looking extremely embarrassed. "Yeah, but that's because you don't have flesh legs, Abes."
"But you listened, didn't you?"
She squinted at him playfully. "They are great, Abes, but no one WANTS them."
He pulled away, laughing as he sat up. "Gotcha."
"I know," she replied with mock irritability. "Why does no one want my flesh legs?"
He leaned forward, his lips brushing hers. "You positive?"
She laughed, leaning back against the counter. "Yeah, but you get all the ladies with them. No one is interested in my flesh legs."
He laughed, running his fingers through her hair. "Are you sure?"
She squinted at him. "You can do more things with two metal legs than most people can do with two flesh ones."
"How can I make you listen, then?"
She glowered at him, raising one eyebrow. “You’re bullying a girl who can’t walk.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s not a good counter argument, my sweet. It doesn’t work like that.”
