nepenthe (n.) someone that can make you forget all grief and suffering
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"hey ana."
well shit his voice even sounds hot at like 3 AM, no fair.
"what do you want press,"
sighing tiredly, ana muted herself, waiting for press' response.
the girl groaned and jumped up to sit on the bathroom bench, right next to the sink, her back leaning against the mirror with a posture that would send her mother into a fit.
a soft chuckle filled with sleep could be heard on the other side of the line as ana clicked to unmute.
"can't sleep." while press' usual gruff tone was still missing, his short sentences were very much present.
a beat passed while ana waited for press to say anything else.
why is his sleeping patterns my problem?
"abby said somethin' about your magic stories making her sleep or whatever, so jus, just do that."
press was stuttering and repeating himself, almost in a flustered manner.
had ana made the infamous matt press, nervous?
"so you want me, to tell you a story, to sleep?" ana asked incredulously,
were brodie and max listening on the other side, filming and snickering at her embarrassment?
but it was almost three in the morning, and besides press and herself, everyone had gotten high out of their minds.
what story would she even read to him?
"uh, yeah sure, just a short one though," surprised at her own words, ana agreed without much need of persuasion from his side.
"ok." press almost whispered, ana could hear him shuffling around on wherever he was.
was press still at brodies? or had he gone home?
on the other side of the line, press was settling in to his bed, all alone.
if the boy were to walk into the hallway, he'd still be alone.
stroll down stairs, through the living room, the kitchen, he would still be alone.
so while it was a selfish act for press to call ana, he needed to not be alone.
