“Sure, kiddo. You’ve known me this long, you should know that by now. God, my jokes are pretty fuckin’ stupid, honestly. I dunno why the hell you laugh. What if you get me a horribly styled backpack and I hate it? Then you’d be wasting that money of yours.” She bit her lip and rolled her eyes before bumping her hip against his. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”
"What's that? What'd you say? I didn't catch any of that, sorry. Well, yeah. That's sort of the point. Yes, your jokes are stupid, but stupid jokes are the best kind. Therefore, laughter. Pfft. I doubt you'd hate it if I got you the same one. Unless you hated your old bag. That's when I'd be stuck in a pickle." He chuckled and put her in a teasing headlock. "Aw come on, sweetheart."


















