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Foggy. Foggy. Foggy.
“Hello?” Matt answered the phone, still half-asleep.
“Matt. I have a very important question for you. Danger has struck Hell’s Kitchen. I’m in one end of the city, and an adorable old lady is in the other. It’s crunch time. Who do you save?”
“You did not call me in the middle of the night to ask me that.”
“That’s the best time to ask! All your walls are too sleepy to stand. You’re totally unguarded. It’s just you, me, and the truth.” That was a lot of nonsense to say he couldn’t sleep and decided Matt should suffer with him.
“I pick you.”
“Because old ladies are overrated and you can’t live without me?”
“Because I want to go back to sleep.”
Foggy chuckled, and Matt heard a rustling over the line. He could almost imagine them back in their dorm. Only then, Foggy would have flopped down next to him in bed. Matt missed those days.
“You mad I called?”
Matt smiled, felt that old familiar pang in his chest. Foggy was right. His walls were down, and he was too sleepy to filter the truth or guard his heart. “Call whenever.”
He’d always answer.