Memphis wasn't really mad, of course, but he was good at pretending. Or at least making himself look like an overdramatic diva. As Storm slid into his lap, however, thoughts of her scare and his playful performance promptly left his mind. This was much better than giving her grief.
"I think a kiss is just what the doctor ordered. I might even need extensive mouth to mouth," he murmured as she leaned in and pressed her lips to his. Memphis wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer in his lap as he let the kiss turn more passionate than the playful she probably intended. If he'd had his way, he would've kept Storm's mouth against his own indefinitely, but she pulled back before he could enact that devious thought.
Shaking his head, he tightened his grip as she moved to push up. The mention of food was a strong distraction, though Memphis was too stubborn to just give in without a little fight. "Not so fast. You still owe me for nearly killing me. I didn't say I was cure yet." The smirk tugging up his lips was trademark and betrayed the victimized act he was going for.
Without letting her get away just yet, he pressed his mouth to hers again as his arms held her in place.