put the kettle on, i'm coming

I called her at midnight talking nonsense, and all she said was, put the kettle on, I'm coming. Forty minutes in her pyjamas with a coat over the top. She didn't try to fix anything, didn't ask the questions everyone else had been asking. She sat on my kitchen floor with me, both of us leaning against the cupboards, two teas going cold between us and the fridge humming like it does.

Sometime past two I finally laughed at something stupid, and she said, there you are. Like I had been away somewhere, and had just come back.