[Portland] Five Cups

May 30, 2007 11:17

Her presence is heralded by a knock on his bedroom door, then a question - "Hey. Forgetting something?" - that was plainly a rhetorical one, as a rattling bottle of ER-prescribed meds comes into view at the same time as her face. She could've achieved the same ends by just walking in and handing it to him, it's not as though she's never seen him less than fully ready for company, but it's still his apartment and she knows he's still perfectly capable of embarrassment.

She's tired already, and it shows as she seats herself at the edge of his bed. Her eyes are at half-mast and the child safety lock on the bottle poses a couple more seconds of difficulty than it ought. But it's his turn for taking a shift at sleeping, it's only fair that he gets it. She can last five hours until it's hers. She should be grateful, in a sense. Conking out tonight of all nights, after the nasty surprise they got when they took a look at her photos, isn't entirely something to look forward to. Awake, she has tricks to try to keep from being upset by those things.

She tries to stick to the evening before-bed routine rather than dwell on their finding. "Sorry. They said to keep taking them until the end of the month, so you'd better. At least we're down to once a day, though, hmm?"

action/narrative, minor arcana, henry townshend

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