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She was beaming at him sweetly, and she kissed the tip of his nose gently. "Don't be grumpy."
He nodded, picking up their towels and shaking the sand off hers before draping it on her shoulders.
"I don't really see how," he said with a frown, looking down at their hands. "We're moving too much."
"That's true," she said with a small nod, considering him for a moment before kissing him, her hand on his jaw.
"I'm not chipper. I'm just not dead inside," she retorted, crossing her arms.
She turned and planted a small kiss on his jaw, running a free hand through his hair. "Sam... look at me."
He dipped below the surface, following her in a near perfect breaststroke. When they got to land, he stood up, offering her a hand. "Jump again...
His brow furrowed and he pursed his lips, obviously focusing intently. "Do people dance together when they kiss each other?" he asked after a...
"So you don't really have a reason to stay awake," she said, turning and leaning back against his chest, regarding the whiskey in the bottle,...
"You're very grumpy."
"We have class..." She opened one eye to look at the clock. "In an hour..."
"I love you too."
He frowned, clearly perplexed. "Still."
"All you're doing is drinking," she pointed out.
She squinted at him. “You’re grumpy.”
“Sam,” she mumbled, still mostly asleep. “We gotta get up...”
He kissed her back, his hand on the side of her jaw.
“Yours looks smoother than mine, though.”
She slid down to lie next to him, looking up at him. “Why not?”
“Sorta, I guess?”
