Odd rolls his neck, feeling the bones crack. “Sounds good. Ugh, there was this one woman that kept freaking out every half hour. Thought she was going to die.”
Taking his hand in hers, Gwen lead him towards the closest bench in the courtyard. “Sounds like a whole lot of fun,” she replies sarcastically, smiling. “Not like the plane was going to crash.” Unless a computer virus took over and caused it to. She cringes at the thought.
“No thank you, otherwise I’d be stuck with her in death, too,” he jokes. As soon as he speaks, however, he bites his lip. Death isn’t really joke material anymore.