Separate names with a comma.
She considered him for a moment, smiling slightly. "You're my boyfriend."
"There are kinds?"
She pulled away after a moment, looking at him thoughtfully. "You are my boyfriend, right?"
He considered this question seriously. "I enjoy ice cream."
"Thank you," she replied, kissing a line along the underside of his jaw. "I like to wear my boyfriend's shirts."
"What do you want to eat?"
"Because I want to wear your shirts and not be disgraced."
He headed to the door.
"Yes," she said, looking up at him. "If I wear your shirt, they have to come down to at least my knees."
"No. But it's something I'm working on," he responded. "I've had enough of people looking over my shoulder. Come on; let's go get some food."
She shifted slightly, tugging on the hem of his shirt that she wore. "You need bigger shirts."
There were vague scribbles and shapes that looked vaguely familiar, but it would be hard to determine what he was making. He noticed her head...
She looked up at him in surprise, her left eyebrow raising thoughtfully. "I love you too," she replied, slipping her arms over his neck.
"I was trying to draw plans," he said, sounding a little frustrated. "It's alright. I'll return to it later."
She was quiet for a moment before scooting over and kissing his cheek, one of her hands moving to rest over his heart while the other one went...
"Well, that, and I don't know how to write."
He would feel his hair drying slowly and she massaged his scalp gently, her soft hands moving down to cup the back of his neck, warming his...
"But you could try."
She reached over, tousling his hair gently. Warmth radiated from her palms.
"Hard to tell if you can't read what you're writing."
