Holly's place: Holly/ Noah
He was going to tell Noah off, but the singing was too fucking cute, and Holly was glad the pharmacy was over with too, and not just because he wanted his meds. He was kinda hoping the pharmacist would remember their little chat the next time Noah stopped by to pick up his own scripts, right? And, okay, so he was overdue for his meds, both the painkillers and the antibiotics, and he was sore as he thought he'd ever been in his life, and he'd taken some punches, okay? He knew sore. But this kinda the sore, the kind that came from a bullet, was different. Anyway, he put the phone down on the desk, and he pillowed his cheek on his good arm, and he dozed. I mean, it wasn't good dozing. It was light sleep, troubled by every single sound outside the window, and even the ASMR he was blaring on his laptop wasn't helping much. He was sweaty in his pajama pants, but cold too, and he was kinda trying to rouse himself, you know, like you do when you're asleep and you want to wake.