What’s going on here? (not my edit)
Miranda: You should go. He’s only upstairs.
Andy: I’m not leaving you while he’s like this. He’s an asshole, Miranda. And he’s drunk.
Miranda: He always is.
Andy: Then let’s go find one of your hundred guest rooms to hide in. I’m staying with you, don’t even argue about that.
Miranda: The girls…
Andy: Are already running for their lives after getting me in trouble. You won’t see them out of their bedrooms before morning.
Miranda: You have an answer for everything, don’t you?
Andy: Including how to get that sad look off your face, yeah.
Miranda: (raises eyebrow)
Andy: Uh huh. It’s been almost a week, Miranda. You’re like Pringles, remember. Once you pop—
Miranda: I beg you to stop talking.
Andy: But you’re smiling.
Miranda: (sighs) I suppose I am. Oh, wait for me in the downstairs guest room. I need to put my house in order first.
Andy: Don’t take too long.
(They share a brief, tender kiss).