(yeah, she's still up. she's reading a book she got out of the library, can you believe it? it feels so normal to abby. sitting on her unmade bed, novel in her lap, reading by the light of the desk lamp on her bedside table.
she's hung her firefly pendant from the neck of the lamp, and it dangles down, just brushing the edge of the framed photo there. pride of place, right in the middle. she turns a page, then glances up as the door swings open, closing the book on her thumb to mark her place.)
Hey. (what time is it? seems late. her expression softens at the look on his face. is he checking on her? she leans forward a little to pat the end of her bed.)
you're so right
she's hung her firefly pendant from the neck of the lamp, and it dangles down, just brushing the edge of the framed photo there. pride of place, right in the middle. she turns a page, then glances up as the door swings open, closing the book on her thumb to mark her place.)
Hey. (what time is it? seems late. her expression softens at the look on his face. is he checking on her? she leans forward a little to pat the end of her bed.)
Yeah, I'm still here. Can't sleep?