"Not against your will, no. I'm just not letting you break up with me. It's against the last, now. Sorry." He shrugged, a small smile on his face.
"Oh, what a pity," she said, shaking her head regretfully. "I suppose I have no choice in the matter."
"Well," she said slowly, considering the weight of her words. "I would hate to be an outlaw. And I do love you. So I suppose it will all work out."
"Francis, you have unlawfully beaten up, like, six people since I've met you," she said, glowering at him. "I'd say you're above the law at this point."
"Ouch. I think I might hate you a little bit for winning that argument." He smirked. "That's fine, though. It makes my heart warm knowing that I also had to beat someone up to protect you."
"Oh?" she asked, resting her head on her hand. "What if I were to disappear without a trace?" (Foreshadowing...)
(Subtle) He frowned, thinking. "I would be very sad. I don't know what I'd probably wonder what I did wrong."
(She's going to leave him a note! So there will be a trace!) "Good thing that'll never happen," she said, leaning across the table to kiss him lightly.
