Thea's Dread

If it had not been for her persistent phone rings, she would have been unwilling to open her eyes even when the sun was overhead.

The lazy Thea forced her body to rise into a sitting position, answering the call of someone so infuriating for bothering her morning that it was supposed to be peaceful the way she had been expecting since last night.

"Hello, good morning," Thea courteously addresses the caller even though her voice is croaked. Thea hasn't given her throat any drop of water.

[Hey! Open your eyes! It's almost eleven in the afternoon!]

Thea squeaks at the sound of Ava's tinkle, so loud and disturbing in the morning. For Thea, eleven is still in the morning. It's not daylighted like Ava just told her.

Thea looked at the screen on her phone for five seconds, matching the voice with the caller's name on her phone screen. That name is written there. Ava had a mouth.