"Mm. Good morning," she replied, turning to face him and slipping her arms around his torso in an embrace, relishing the warmth and sleepiness of the moment. "How did you sleep?"
Her thumb slowly ran along his cheekbone, and she cocked her head worriedly. "Do you want to sleep more?" she asked gently. "You seem tired still. I have to go run some errands anyway."
"Probably no longer than an hour or an hour and a half," she promised, giving him a quick kiss. "Sleep, my darling. I'm worried about you."
She kissed him lightly, her fingers brushing his hair out of his face. "Thank you," she said. She sat up and slipped out of the bed, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. "I'll be back soon, okay?"
"See you soon," she said with a small smile, pulling some clothes out of her drawers and then leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
Poppy left the apartment quietly, closing the door behind her. (Time skip to Francis waking up two hours later or so?)
(Sure thing.) Francis awoke with a start. He looked around recalling where he was and relaxing, sliding out of bed to check the time. He paused once he realized how long it had been. He went into the living room, looking for her. "Poppy?"
Her apartment was empty except for Tom, who was under the dining room table. He whimpered slightly, looking up at Francis with large, sad eyes.
The phone went straight to voicemail. "Hi, you've reached Poppy's phone. Please leave a message at the sound of the tiny truck backing up. Beep!"
Francis looked around, unsure of what to do. He paced for a moment, before going back to the room, hoping to find a change of clothes to go out and look.
