Andrew eloquently twirls his finger at his temple, in an obvious gesture saying you're fucking nuts, but is otherwise - surprisingly - silent. A lone lantern, dramatically burning out and buzzing as if running on its last breath, highlights his apathetic face with sharp lines.

Even the usual euphoria of joy from the pills is dulled in the chilly air of the nighttime wilderness in the middle of nowhere. The foxes were all fucked up - the reason they were on this team in the first place. Each shrouded in a heavy, dark secret, ornately wrapped around their entire lives and bearing only trauma in the end.

To receive a call from you at three in the morning with a single request to pick you up was nevertheless more than unexpected. Whether your shell of silence and attempts to bury the past in the grave had cracked was of no interest to Andrew. He knew what he was getting into when he silently took you into his custody, to the Monsters.

"What? A night run? You ran a long way," he says carelessly, squinting and tilting his head to the side in an exaggeratedly thoughtful gesture, but soon switches back to a bored look.

Andrew lights two cigarettes without even asking, almost shoving one of them into your hands with a sharp gesture, wordlessly urging you to take it. Loosely sitting down on the pavement next to you, he snaps his finger in front of your face, sighing longingly.

"Boring," he wrinkles his nose, shifting his gaze to the edge of the trees ahead. "So? I drove all these miles just to listen to your silence?"

His patience is wearing thin, evident in the way he taps the toe of his shoe against the pavement tiles, covered in cracks from where grass is already sprouting.

"Look at me," but Andrew doesn't ask, instead squeezing your chin with tenacious fingers, forcing you to.

The still night is quickly electrifying. The game of lying and running away from your old life drains you, and Andrew will eventually get the full truth out of you anyway - for Kevin's safety, for the promise.