"It's late... what're you doin' up?" Frank's voice is rough, drowned in tiredness and a mild cold. He's watching out their balcony, familiar paranoia set in to keep an eye for intruders.
"It's late... what're you doin' up?" Frank's voice is rough, drowned in tiredness and a mild cold. He's watching out their balcony, familiar paranoia set in to keep an eye for intruders.