Separate names with a comma.
"You know about wings, right? And blood?"
"Don't apologize. It's sweet."
He tossed his hand as if swatting a fly. "Leave me be."
She was quiet for a moment before kissing his cheek lightly, her nose brushing his temple. "We'll make it through this," she murmured quietly in...
She dumped the soup in the saucepan, turning on the stove.
She turned to look at him as they walked through the Glen. "What do you want to figure out first?"
He looked up at her, a little startled, before giving her a smile. "Don't worry, Avice. I'm alright."
He smirked, extending out his hand. Flames began to rise from the ground, licking at Sylvia's feet.
She sighed, clearly upset, her brow furrowing. "Francis..."
"Still a little sore. I think the morphine is wearing off," he said, looking down at his arm.
"Don't make me burn you."
She looked up, her brow furrowing. "...what?"
"No, I did. But, I mean, you have to imagine. It's a little weird to wake up and be told that you have a huge history with a person."
"Yes. A pest."
She paused, studying him intently, her light eyes drifting over the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. She paused before realizing that she was...
He laughed slightly. "Wow. We really were married, huh?"
"Begone, pest."
Her fingers brushed over the gems in the box as they slid up in the holes. "I love you," she said after a minute, looking up at him.
He opened it slowly, his brow furrowing.
"What could I do to convince you?"
