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— 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 again.
Warren was dodging Layla's texts and calls just like last time — but unlike the last time, he also seemed to have dropped off the entire face of Earth.
The Williams girl tried everything. She even went down to the Paper Lantern to see if he was at work, but his boss just smiled at her sadly and told her that he'd called out sick last week and hadn't been back since.
The only thing she hadn't done yet was call or text Winona. If this was any other time, she probably would have — but something in her gut told her that talking to Warren's mom right now would probably be a bad idea.
And Layla was not one to ignore her gut. So she didn't try to contact Winona.
But the lack of communication and confirmation that Warren was at least alive was killing her, and Layla was self-aware enough to understand that she wouldn't be able to take more of this for much longer.
By the time Saturday came around, Layla was absolutely done.
After finishing her leftover homework and getting the confirmation from her parents, she walked to the Peace residence and knocked on the door.
It took a while for anyone to answer, but eventually — the sight of a very tired and grouchy-looking Warren greeted her.
"Hey. I've been worried about you. Are you alright?" Layla asked, her brows furrowing in increasing concern as she studied his entire appearance.
Warren did not look well at all, let alone okay.
His hair was haphazardly put up in a low bun, his eyes were red with a lack of sleep, his face was as pale as paper, and his shirt was wrinkled to high hell.
Just looking at him alone, Layla began to question if he really was just sick or not.
"You shouldn't be here right now, Hippie." Warren rasped.
Despite his words being harsh, his tone of voice was anything but. His throat sounded scratchy as if from a lack of use, and he talked slowly — like talking any faster would take more energy from him than he had at the moment.
Layla tried to take a step closer to him, worried for his wellbeing, but Warren only took a step back.
"I mean it, Layla. Go home." He said a little more firmly before his voice dropped down into a whisper once more. "Please."
Layla only shook her head. "Like heck am I doing that, Warren! Gosh, look at you. You're clearly not doing well and I'm worried."
"I'm fine, Hippie. Just a little cold is all." Warren replied though the way his eyes wouldn't meet her own made it seem like he was lying.
