from singapore with love
Being in city proper is somewhat better than being restricted to the beach, Faye thinks, but it's not because she's sick of the beach at all. Faye just doesn't think her skin can actually soak up anymore sun without starting to protest. Her shoulders are still a little red, and the straps of her shirt are thin because it's still somewhat uncomfortable to deal with anything else.
But that's beside the point, really. The point is that there's still one more statue that she needs to see, and then they can fuck off and do whatever else Frederick wants to do, even if that means going home. And when did she start referring to it as home, again? Probably when it became that.
Speaking of Frederick, though, Faye pokes her head around the bathroom door, where she's been standing for the last ten minutes brushing her teeth and thinking about the Merlion. She can't see him from this angle, though. And who knows what he's gotten up to without her supervision. The room could be in shambles.
"I hope you didn't die out there. I'm hungry."