【 𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬. 】〖 𝚂𝙻𝙾𝚆 𝚄𝙿𝙳𝙰𝚃𝙴𝚂. 〗
❝𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵.❞
In which Phoebe helps her best friend break his innocent brother out of prison.
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PHOEBE LOOKED DOWN AT the man who was seemingly sleeping on the ground beside her. Haywire looked to be sound asleep, the cell block dimly lit as the inmates peacefully slept. Haywire's mattress was strangely placed halfway under the bunk, sleeping with half of his body under said bunk. Phoebe carefully lifted the corner of her mattress and shoved her hand underneath it, pulling out her book that held the bolt inside.
She looked down at Haywire again, who was face down on his mattress, and then quietly flipped the book open and slipped the cold bolt out, resting the book beside her pillow. She sighed, holding the bolt close to her chest in both of her hands.
"I got it." She whispered to Michael, who was lying on the bunk above her. Michael hummed quietly in acknowledgment, sitting up slowly and quietly getting down from his bunk. Phoebe sat up in her bunk, handing Michael the bolt as he quietly and carefully walked around Haywire and towards the toilet. He crouched down beside it, carefully starting to turn the bolt, when suddenly Haywire snapped his head up and stared at Michael.
Phoebe, being startled by the man's sudden and unexpected movement, slapped her hands over her mouth and nearly jumped out of her skin, backing up against the wall as her heart raced, sighing after realizing he was just staring, and dropping her hands into her lap. Fucking creep. Michael had stopped, sensing someone's eyes on him, he turned to face Haywire with a glare.
"What's your problem?" Michael asked quietly. Phoebe looked between the two nervously. Haywire furrowed his brows slightly.
"I got a neuroanatomic lesion, affecting my reticular activating system." Haywire said nonchalantly. Phoebe cocked a brow, thinking about what he had said. Her heart raced. Shit! Great! Just fucking fantastic! Michael furrowed his brows.
"What does that mean?" Michael asked. Phoebe scooted closer to them ever so slightly, but not too close. These news made her now feel more uncomfortable near Haywire.
"Long story short, it basically means his sleep cycle is affected." Phoebe said with a sigh. Haywire looked up at her and nodded slowly.
"It means I don't sleep." He said. "At all." He added, in a tone that sounded taunting to Phoebe. Michael frustratedly huffed, putting his forehead against his arm on the edge of the small table next to him, looking over at Phoebe and shaking his head.
—
"JUST WHAT WE NEEDED. A CELLMATE WHO DOESN'T SLEEP." Michael complained quietly as they sat in the cafeteria the next morning, eating their breakfast. Phoebe sighed and shook her head.
