Separate names with a comma.
She gave him a stern look. "So you weren't jaywalking?" * * * "Are you sure? Because I'd win."
"Well... how 'bout you make a mess and I clean?"
She frowned, cupping his jaw nervously. "What happened?" * * * "You seem like you want a fight."
"That's what's funny," he said, stretching. "Neither of us would remember it!"
She blinked, turning to look at him. "What?!" * * * "Why are you angry?"
"I'd smear dirt everywhere."
She leaned against his shoulder, resting her head down. "Hm... that's a pity. I was expecting some stories." * * * He snickered. The heat had...
"Well, we can go back eardly..."
She sat next to him on the couch, a bowl of her own in her hands, tucking her legs underneath her and adjusting primly, her shoulder brushing his....
"Probably in like..." He checked his watch lazily. "A gajillion yearz."
She looked down at him almost shyly. "I love you too." * * * He frowned. "About... what?"
"Nah," he said affectionately, rolling his neck. "We're... we're not that drunk..."
She kissed the top of his head. "I'm glad." * * * "How intimate."
Within the hour, Trevor and Juliet were completely drunk. They were at the bar, empty glasses surrounding them, and Trevor was cackling about a...
She continued cooking before turning off the stove and going over to him, running her fingers through his hair. "How was your nap?" * * * "You...
(Zoop?)
She looked over at him in surprise, smiling up at him curiously. "Hi. Your food’s on the coffee table.." * * * He huffed. "I can neither...
“Barely.”
She was back at the stove. A bowl of penne pasta with some fresh tomato sauce and Parmesan was next to him, along with a glass of wine. *** “Oh...
“Says the person who’s never drank.”
