Separate names with a comma.
He leaned into her touch instinctively, looking up at her in a daze. "You're so pretty, Rory," he said, his voice rough. "You're so pretty."
He was hot to touch, but his eyes flew open and settled on her hazily. "Rory..."
He was obviously disturbed, muttering under his breath feverishly as his raspy breaths forced their way out of his chest.
Emerson was asleep later, his brow furrowed as he stirred uncomfortably.
(Zoop?)
He watched her go before lying back with a sigh, continuing to do his work.
He pursed his lips before lying his head back. "Not likely. Thank you for your help."
"Hm. Fine, then. Go. Live your life outside these walls."
He laughed out loud, stopping himself with another cough. "You'll help me figure out how to cough?" he asked weakly.
He took it, studying her thoughtfully. "Thank you."
He had been dozing lightly, but he opened his eyes when she returned. "Oh," he said, clearing his throat. "Good."
He sighed, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
He looked up at her before settling back in the pillows. "Alright, then."
He smiled, sitting back on the bed. "Is that your official diagnosis?"
He studied her for a moment before letting go of her hand. "I see."
He looked down at her thoughtfully, his brow furrowed. He had a sharp jawline, and his piercing eyes studied her. "What are you doing?" he...
He watched her thoughtfully before sitting on the edge of the bed, setting the mug to the side. "What now, doctor?"
He took another sip of the drink, squinting at her. "I would never choke."
He laughed slightly, raising one eyebrow as he considered her. "I mean, I've already had some now, so I'll probably die no matter what quantity...
He raised an eyebrow, looking over at her. They were quite close to each other. "I don't mean to cause offense, Rory; I do trust you. But if you...
