"If you'd like," she said, turning back to the potatoes. "If you'll excuse me, I have to beat up these potatoes."
They sat on the couch together, the leftovers packed away and the dishes cleaned. Soft music played in the background, the light was warm and they were in the lovely state between sleep and consciousness. Poppy's head was on his shoulder, her eyes closed and her hair slightly disheveled.
Francis had his arm around her, holding her close. Pieces of hair fell in front of his face as she buried his nose in the her hair sleepily.
Poppy's watch buzzed with a call and she stirred slightly, opening one sleepy eye. She sighed and disentangled herself from Francis' embrace. She stood up and looked down at him with a slight smile, brushing his hair out of his face before heading to the hallway to answer the phone so as to not wake him.
She spoke softly, but her voice traveled in the hallway, worried. "Hello...? Yes, this is Poppy." She was quiet for a moment. "Wait... Wait, really? Uh.. Okay. Um..." Her voice wavered slightly, but she cleared her throat. "How long will we be gone....? I see. Uh... okay. Okay. When do we leave? How..." She paused before speaking again, a little softer. "How dangerous is it? Oh. Oh. Okay. Alright. I understand. Thank you."
