Work Text:
You're about the furthest thing from a morning person imaginable. You've always joked that nothing short of a paycheck will get you out of bed before nine. And yet, here you are, awake at four-fucking-thirty, and you're not going to get a single dollar out of it.
You pull on a jacket and slip out the door into the twilight. The streets are nearly deserted as you take your bicycle east towards the waterfront. People with saner habits and hobbies are asleep still. You're jealous, mostly.
Your phone pings at you.
Awake?
Yes, you peck out without stopping.
Good :)
You picked the spot the week before. It's a suburban beach, not that close to your apartment, but you're pretty sure there won't be anyone to bother you. You leave your bike propped against someone's fence and check your phone before making your way down to the water. 4:50 AM. It's an ungodly hour, but you're right on time.
You tap out another message - Call now? - and a moment later your phone is buzzing in your hand.
"Hey."
"Hey yourself."
God, you've missed hearing that voice.
"So, where'd you end up going?"
"Griffith Park," she tells you. "You're at the beach, right? The clouds aren't too bad there, are they?"
You look out over the water. "No, not bad at all. They've already started glowing. It looks nice."
You're both silent for a moment.
"Tell me something in Danish," she says.
"Jeg kan ikke se solen i Frederikshavn, men jeg kan se dens lys." The pronunciation is atrocious, you're certain, not that she'd know the difference.
"Do you feel like you're speaking any better now?"
"Everyone here talks to me in English. I'm not complaining, their English is way better than my Danish, but it makes it a hell of a lot harder to actually learn the language."
"Mmm."
"What was dinner tonight?"
"Just leftovers," she tells you. "I can never get the portions right for just one person. There's so much more of everything without you."
Another silence. You pick up a rock and skip it across the gentle waves.
"I miss you," she says, quietly.
"One more month and I'll be home."
"I know. But that's a long time. I wish you were home now."
The sun peeks over the horizon. You check the time.
4:59, right on cue.
"Send me a picture of the sunset, ok?"
"Ok."
"And give Meowsdower some love for me. I miss that rat bastard so much."
"I will."
You close your eyes, try to picture her face framed against the Los Angeles skyline.
"One more month. I love you."
She doesn't say anything. She doesn't need to.
You should go back to your apartment now, go back to bed, try to get a bit more rest.
Instead, you sit on the beach, a terrible loneliness twisting in your chest, and watch the sun rise over the Kattegat.