The coins slip from her fingers into the slot and she punches Derek's number in. It's a long while before he picks up; she realises with a jolt it must be past 2AM for him. It's easy to imagine messy hair, half-mast eyes when his sleep roughened voice finally answers. "'lo?"
She laughs, high, nervous, edged with something unidentifiable. "I'm at a beach somewhere."
When she starts thinking he's fallen back asleep because he hasn't said anything, he says abrupt but soft, "Take care of yourself."
"Yeah." She says, because there's nothing else, and breathes until the call runs out.
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