Separate names with a comma.
He laughed, kissing her cheek. "Oh, jeez. I love you too, draesling."
"No, I don't. Explain, please."
He frowned, looking confused. "What?"
The writing was harsh and unfamiliar. Francis - You’ve *squee!*ed up. You realize that, yeah? You’ve done a terrible, terrible thing. I’m...
He tilted his head slightly. "What?"
"It would be my kid."
"Yep," he said, standing up. "Let's boogey."
The house was strangely empty and quiet. There was a note on the table.
He smiled his shy smile, reaching up to hold her face carefully.
"Nope. Not kinda."
Jack was still sitting on the couch.
(Should Francis find the note?)
"Yes."
"Is that how you think children work?"
(Yoop!)
"Of course I do, silly thing."
She flushed. "Our son? We're having kids now?"
Poppy exhaled slowly, feeling guilt and worry and sadness swirl in her chest as she sat on the edge of the bed.
"Hush."
"Is Grey our mother?"
