07. sunglasses in the winter?

1.6K 37 2
                                    

congratulations - mac miller, bilal
"I lose my mind, I lose control, I see your eyes look through my soul."


I'm barely awake when the shrill ring of my phone slices through the quiet of the room, jolting me from the comfort of my bed

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

I'm barely awake when the shrill ring of my phone slices through the quiet of the room, jolting me from the comfort of my bed. My heart races as I fumble for the phone on my nightstand, squinting at the screen, ready to curse whoever decided to wake me at this ungodly hour.

Of course, it's Riley.

For the second time in a week, she's woken me up at the crack of dawn. My first instinct is to hit decline, shove the phone under my pillow, and go back to sleep. But the time of her call—just past 6 AM—makes me pause. Maybe it's serious.

With a sigh, I answer. "Hello?" My voice is thick with sleep, my irritation obvious.

"Hey," comes her voice, and I can hear the awkwardness in it. "Can you come pick me up from the airport... please?"

I close my eyes and rub my temples, already annoyed. "Are you serious right now, Reid?"

Silence. The fact that she's not snapping back at me makes me think something might actually be wrong.

"I already called Danielle," she says after a beat. "She can't come get me—she's busy."

I groan, sinking back into my bed. "And why isn't your team there? Don't you have a driver?"

"There was a passport issue, and I really just wanted to get home. They told me to go, so... here I am, alone."

I catch a slight slur in her voice, and it hits me—she's hungover. Classic Riley.

I want to stay mad, but part of me feels bad for her. But then again, my bed is incredibly comfortable.

I stare at the ceiling, torn between annoyance and a faint sense of concern. Riley could be exhausting, but the edge in her voice, the vulnerability, pulls at me.

"If I do this," I grumble, "what's in it for me?"

She groans. "I don't know! Whatever you want—just please come get me."

The line goes quiet while I weigh my options. After a long sigh, I mutter, "Fine. I'll be there in thirty."

Relief floods her voice. "Oh my God, thank you!"

"Yeah, yeah. You owe me," I say, reluctantly pulling myself out of bed. "Are you in a café or something? Do I need to come in to get you?"

"No, I'm in the toilets," she replies casually.

"What the hell? Why are you calling me on the toilet?"

"Not on the toilet, Lando," she snaps, her tone exasperated. "In the toilets. Some creep has been following me since baggage claim."

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇, lando norrisWhere stories live. Discover now