Separate names with a comma.
“You are.”
“You’re spoiled.”
“The things I do for love.”
“Do you trust me, Gabe? Do I really look like the person who would let you die?”
“So it goes against tradition!”
"You."
She rolled her eyes before reaching up and kissing him.
"I know you do. Thank you."
She laughed slightly, shaking her head. "Nah. You're not dying. You're going to be fine."
"But you made it up!"
"You're too fancy."
"What do you mean?"
He flushed. "And you're biased."
She softened, kneeling down next to him. "I know, sweetie," she said gently, inspecting the wound. "It's gonna hurt a little."
"It's too fancy."
"I thought I had proven myself."
"That's me."
She looked up at him suddenly. “Yeah?”
“That goes against tradition!”
“Don’t say ‘indeed’.”
