Separate names with a comma.
"Of course."
"So, maybe we should just stay in here?" she asked hopefully.
"Super drunk."
"That's a problem," she said, sounding really upset. "I just... I can't believe you would do something like this. I don't know what to do."
She flew up to the top shelf, bringing it down.
"I think you're cute!"
"I think we're still drunk."
She sighed, dropping her hands. "I don't trust you anymore."
"Do you want cinnamon? You have cinnamon, I think."
"What?" she asked innocently, standing up.
"Hi..."
"That should count for everything, Francis! It's mine! My body and my mind that you and the doctors are talking about and drugging! It should be...
"What are you looking for?"
She glanced at him over her shoulder. "That's a sad sight."
He flushed, blinking in surprise.
"I also told you that I didn't want it. I'm a medic too. You listened to them and not to me."
She followed.
She got out of bed, slipping on her pants quickly.
He kissed the corner of her mouth.
She sniffled slightly, sitting down at the table. "God, Francis. Why'd you have to do it?"
