Separate names with a comma.
He nodded, his finger tapping his arm distractedly. "Will do."
She didn't reply, still watching the window.
She cocked her head. "What about?"
He frowned, crossing his arms. "Oh."
She looked out the window, her lips pursed.
"You don't have to. I'm not angry."
"We are," he agreed. "Just moving things around, is all."
"I'm not talking anymore. I'm ignoring you."
"I'm not mad," she promised, kissing his jaw. "No worries."
He brushed back his hair and stepped into the doorway, clearing his throat. "Yes?"
"That is not what I'm saying!"
"I'm not really mad at you."
Francis quickly got dressed, ignoring the sick feeling he had.
"Do. Not. Crash. The. Car."
She buried her face in his neck. "Seriously. I really, really adore you."
Francis gasped quietly, quickly taking his clothes to the other room to avoid being spotted.
"No to the car crash."
She gladly went to him. "I love you."
He glared, moving into the other room to grab clean clothes from the boxes.
She groaned. "Ugh! Fine."
