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“Is it alright if I hold your hand?”
“We’re married.”
“Oh, but I would hate to be scandalous.”
“You love a good scandal.”
“Yeah, and I hate you.”
“You love me. Quit lying. You’re not very good at it.”
“Boo. Now let me hold your hand,” they wiggled their eyebrows. “Without a chaperone,” they added in a scandalous tone of voice.
“Come on,” they said, rolling their eyes. “It’s not the nineteenth century anymore.”
“You’re just trying to get me to be scandalous,” they fanned their face.
“Shut up,” they said, grabbing their hand.
“Oooh. I’ll allow it,” they blushed.