Rosy Cheeks

worryings; 2.03

Two nights later, right after the girl finished their weekly Sunday dinner, she received a phone call.

She had been lounging in the fluffy, upholstered chair that she had begged her mother for; with a book glued to her hand, a soft blanket circled around herself and her opened sketchbook resting in her lap, which she occasionally stopped reading to add a few new marks onto. It was how she often spent her Sundays, along with listening to whatever band she was currently obsessed with, and she wouldn't have had it any other way.

When her phone rang (which was resting on her chest and she'd thought that it left was on vibrate), she was beyond startled by the loud blaring that cut through the almost silence in the room, and she dropped her book to the floor. With a quiet curse, she leaned over and picked up her book before answering her phone.

She didn't even have the chance to speak when a voice echoed throughout her whole body. "Pale Eyes.." A raspy Rosy Cheeks came out of the speaker. "W-why does it always seem that terrible things happen to d-decent people? I mean.. I g-guess maybe I'm not even that."

"Of course you're a decent person.." The girl sat up straighter, after her mind cleared, once again knocking her book to the ground. But this time she left it there. "What's wrong?" She asked hurriedly, as she listening to his heavy breathing.

He didn't say anything for awhile, but she could hear him choking back a sob; making her want to cry as well. Just picturing the boy with tears streaming down her face made her uneasy.

"I... Nothing. Its nothing." The boy managed to whisper over the sounds of his tears. "I shouldn't have bothered you, you don't need to hear about this."

When he was about to hang up, she yelped, and said, "Wait!" She went silent, listening to his severely ragged breaths hoping to hear a reply.

But instead of listening to her, he ended the call, after saying, "I shouldn't matter to you. I am only a burden."

And the girl didn't know what to do, other than sit there with her hand still holding her phone to her ear and her book still in a dented pile on the floor; as she stared blankly at the picture on her nightstand. He was fine just earlier this morning..

_____

Bella's note: rather short and unsatisfying chapter to me, but alas I found it necessary to the story.

What did you think? What do you think made Rosy Cheeks feel so awful when he was fine on Friday? What should the girl do? What's shown in the picture on her nightstand?

Any constructive criticism?

Much love, we've reached 10k reads which is surreal to me, my thanks could never be abundant enough to you all!

-xx