She fell asleep gradually, her hand against his sternum. Perhaps half an hour later, there was a hesitant knock on the door. Poppy stirred slightly but didn’t wake up.
A familiar figure stood in front of him, short and frowning. He looked up and sighed. “Thank goodness it’s you, Francis. I need to talk to you.”
Phos frowned, checking his watch. “Asleep? It’s 1 in the afternoon!” His expression changed to one of horror. “Are you two pregnant?”
He sighed with relief. “Oh, thank God. At least there’s that.” He was quiet for a moment before he sighed. “You have to help me, Francis. She won’t even talk to me.”
He shook his head with a growl. “She’s so stubborn. I’m certainly not going to apologize for speaking my mind.”
"Maybe if you apologize, she would apologize," he told him. "This is really just a simple fix that you two are making difficult."
“And she’s the one who cannot see the logic! I swear, if I wanted to die, I’d jump from her ego to her IQ.”
