Separate names with a comma.
"Meeting you led up the the biggest day of my life," he said playfully. "Thanks."
"That makes sense. There's a short of vellichor here. It's comfortable."
"Really?" she asked, her eyes lighting up. "Do you still like singing?"
"I'd say," he replied. "I don't know."
"Maybe," he said. "I'm not sure yet."
"Do you do anything like that?" she asked. "Paint, or music or something?"
"That's the second reason," he told her. "It was amazing."
He kissed her temple. "You should."
"I mostly do pencil sketches and watercolor," she said, going back to the wall. "Not much else."
"Obviously," he replied. "I didn't punch Evan for nothing."
He tilted his head slightly. "Only you can do that."
"Kinda. It was new to use," she said. "Different."
"I don't want you to get hurt," he said. "That'd be bad."
He blushed slightly, putting his arms around her waist. "And you to me."
"It's a type of paint," she replied. "It works well, but it's hard to use and difficult to find."
"You'd probably hurt yourself," he said. "What with your hand and all."
He kissed her collarbone before looking up at her. "I agree."
"Yeah, then I went into gouache, which is difficult."
"You might have," he said. "I wasn't ready."
He nodded, only pausing to speak. "Yeah," he said. "I'm still glad we're back together."
