"Hey," came a voice, and your eyes flew open immediately, sitting up with a start.
"What the hell," you grunted when you realised it was just Townsend.
You'd known Townsend since you were kids; he was shorter than you by about a head, paler, but had broader shoulders that made him a slightly better climber. He now lived "next door" - in actuality, the walls of the next apartment over. He was your closest friend, so you more or less came and went as you pleased.
Of course, that didn't mean it was OK to wake you up like that. You ran your hand through your matted, long, unruly, light brown hair, trying to wake yourself up.
Townsend frowned. "Sorry to wake you," he said, helping himself to some of your water; he appeared frantic, absent-minded as the water dribbled slowly into his cup.
"No, it's fine, make yourself at home," you said, rolling your eyes, masking your concern.
Townsend downed the cup of water, then walked over to your makeshift bed, which was really more of a sleeping bag. He sat on the floor, his expression serious.
"Listen," he said.
"This better be good," you said, still not fully awake.
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