Separate names with a comma.
He shut his eyes for a moment, his arms around her as he was silent.
"Thanks," he mumbled, raising his eyebrow in thought as he worked.
She kissed him lightly. "I don't think you're a dumbass, though," she said. "I think you're really smart, and nice, and good, and amazing, and I...
He instinctively held her, her arms gentle but sure. "I love you."
He observed his own hand, before taking a piece of clay and beginning. "Like this?" he asked, tilting his head. He had never used clay before,...
She snickered, but shook her head. "No, I might have to add that to the list, though. Only because you said it."
"Technically," he agreed, kissing her forehead. "It's like Schrödinger's cat, kind of."
"Then should we start with those few first, and then build from there?"
He rested her hand gently on the side of his neck, the other on his shoulder. "I could say so many things about you, but I can't put it all into...
He reached to give her a kiss. "I know," he said softly. "I'm yours, too."
"Right," he agreed. "How many bones are in the palm?"
She watched him for a moment, and couldn't help but grin. "I love you."
"Of course it doesn't change anything. It's just that... fiancée is more temporary than wife."
"All I said was that I didn't like ten year olds. That's not that mean." He frowned. "Lets just work."
"You still should," she suggested. "Dancing with you is fun."
He watched her, his eyes thoughtful. "That's true, but don't we have to sign something for it to be official?"
"No, I'm just saying. For a six year old she's mean."
"Really?" she laughed. "Okay, I believe you."
"I would not say that," he said, his hand moving back to playing with her hair. "I suppose that makes you my wife, then."
He folded his arms. "She's mean."
