Separate names with a comma.
Anya came in, a blanket over her shoulders and her hair wet as she shuffled in, wearing something that seemed similar to a nightgown.
He squinted at her. "I just didn't know we were even acquaintances."
(Yoop!)
He raised an eyebrow, looking interested. "Are we close enough that you can joke around with me?"
She moved down the hallway.
He looked over at her, his face impossible to read. "You haven't had to evade capture like I have, Aasimar. Believe me, it counts."
She moved over to the wall, leaning on it for support. "I'll be back."
"Because I wasn't born in the Colony, Sona," he said, raising an eyebrow.
She laughed in embarrassment. "The showers, actually, but I can go there myself."
"Not a chance," he replied. "You have never had a reason to be."
She glanced up at him, taking his hand. "Thank you."
"Good."
"I want to move," she told him, still focusing on her legs. "I don't want to be in bed anymore."
"That's not reliable," he muttered to himself.
She was quiet for a moment before moving over to the edge of the bed, setting her feet on the floor, apprehension in her gaze. She stood up...
He huffed, raising an eyebrow. “You have a lot of faith in your sneaking abilities.”
She looked over at him before resting her head on his shoulder. “You are always of service,” she said quietly. “You are very good to be around.”
“You could try not lying about it.”
She laughed, wrapping her arms around a pillow nearby and holding it to her stomach. “You are good,” she said decisively. “You are very pleasing...
He squinted at her back. “You can’t even use your hand,” he protested.
