[Even hearing one half of the conversation, it's easy for Lucy to tell it devolved into concerned questioning over the state of Freya's voice and speech. It's not a long one, though.]
No, I'm fine. Promise. Just—calling to make sure you two are alright. Nightmare. That's all.
[She muttered a quick right, love you and closed the call, setting Lucy's phone down. The taller woman's silent—then strikes the countertop with her fist. The pain's both refreshing, in a way, a respite from the grief and the anger, and a further annoyance.]
[She's never experienced anything like this before. She had to do something with that rage coiling in her chest; Freya knew she couldn't just keep breaking things. That didn't help anything.]
no subject
No, I'm fine. Promise. Just—calling to make sure you two are alright. Nightmare. That's all.
[She muttered a quick right, love you and closed the call, setting Lucy's phone down. The taller woman's silent—then strikes the countertop with her fist. The pain's both refreshing, in a way, a respite from the grief and the anger, and a further annoyance.]
[She's never experienced anything like this before. She had to do something with that rage coiling in her chest; Freya knew she couldn't just keep breaking things. That didn't help anything.]