This is set now on both counts (AU WW, obviously). Nothing belongs to me.
Thanks to my readers and reviewers. You guys rock. You made my very first
attempt at anything WW much more fun.
Part 5: Prime Numbers
Toby groaned as sunlight invaded his world. He rubbed his eyes and tried to figure out why his head felt like it was trying to separate itself from his body. He shifted around and opened one eye, grimacing as the world got painfully bright. Slowly adjusting to the pain of what he concluded must be a hangover, he peered out from the safe cocoon of the bed. He was greeted by a completely normal hotel room. His hotel room, though it looked considerably cleaner than it had since he had first stepped foot in it. His first thought was that someone had removed the 'Do Not Disturb' sign from his door. It took him a few minutes to realize that a hotel maid wouldn't have come in and cleaned around a sleeping guest.
Toby shook his head, trying to clear it, and peered around the room again. The little fridge across the way was closed, no little bottles of alcohol littering the top of it. The only evidence that it had been opened was a can of cashews sitting next to it.
Suddenly, his memory cleared.
Toby closed his eyes briefly. The only thing keeping him from panicking was the fact that he appeared to be completely dressed, except for his shoes.
He rolled over, fully expecting to see a sleeping redhead on the other side of the bed. What greeted him instead was a remade blanket and refluffed pillow, with a folded piece of paper sitting on it.
Toby sat up, ignoring the pain, and took the paper from its place of rest. He unfolded it, realizing that it was hotel stationary which must have been hiding somewhere in the small desk by the fridge.
Dear Toby:
I'm sorry I couldn't stay to say goodbye, and maybe help with the hangover, but I had someone I needed to see. You were right. You're probably the best friend I've had in the last few months, and that means the world to me. I'm hoping your words coming from my mouth will help to at least begin to fix all the things that have gone wrong. I think we just needed a place to start. Maybe if we had met at another time, in another place, everything would have turned out differently. It doesn't matter now, anyway. I really believe that one day you'll have with your mysterious phone friend what I have with Kennedy.
Your friend always, Willow
P.S. I'm not tweaking a thing.
Toby got over his initial eyebrow raise at the mention of his phone friend, and reread the last line of the letter. He was getting dangerously close to becoming emotional, which he attributed to the pain of his hangover. Smiling a bit, he reached into his pants and pulled out his cellphone. He turned it on and dialed a number by memory.
"Hey, it's me. I'm coming home."
THE END
Part 5: Prime Numbers
Toby groaned as sunlight invaded his world. He rubbed his eyes and tried to figure out why his head felt like it was trying to separate itself from his body. He shifted around and opened one eye, grimacing as the world got painfully bright. Slowly adjusting to the pain of what he concluded must be a hangover, he peered out from the safe cocoon of the bed. He was greeted by a completely normal hotel room. His hotel room, though it looked considerably cleaner than it had since he had first stepped foot in it. His first thought was that someone had removed the 'Do Not Disturb' sign from his door. It took him a few minutes to realize that a hotel maid wouldn't have come in and cleaned around a sleeping guest.
Toby shook his head, trying to clear it, and peered around the room again. The little fridge across the way was closed, no little bottles of alcohol littering the top of it. The only evidence that it had been opened was a can of cashews sitting next to it.
Suddenly, his memory cleared.
Toby closed his eyes briefly. The only thing keeping him from panicking was the fact that he appeared to be completely dressed, except for his shoes.
He rolled over, fully expecting to see a sleeping redhead on the other side of the bed. What greeted him instead was a remade blanket and refluffed pillow, with a folded piece of paper sitting on it.
Toby sat up, ignoring the pain, and took the paper from its place of rest. He unfolded it, realizing that it was hotel stationary which must have been hiding somewhere in the small desk by the fridge.
Dear Toby:
I'm sorry I couldn't stay to say goodbye, and maybe help with the hangover, but I had someone I needed to see. You were right. You're probably the best friend I've had in the last few months, and that means the world to me. I'm hoping your words coming from my mouth will help to at least begin to fix all the things that have gone wrong. I think we just needed a place to start. Maybe if we had met at another time, in another place, everything would have turned out differently. It doesn't matter now, anyway. I really believe that one day you'll have with your mysterious phone friend what I have with Kennedy.
Your friend always, Willow
P.S. I'm not tweaking a thing.
Toby got over his initial eyebrow raise at the mention of his phone friend, and reread the last line of the letter. He was getting dangerously close to becoming emotional, which he attributed to the pain of his hangover. Smiling a bit, he reached into his pants and pulled out his cellphone. He turned it on and dialed a number by memory.
"Hey, it's me. I'm coming home."
THE END