"hey, remember when we'd have morning sex?" i question, leaning against the cool concrete wall.
"yeah." he answers, i can tell there is a grin on his face.
i take a swing of my icy beer and wonder out to the backyard.
"how you'd wake me up with cold hands and warm kisses." i remind him. i wish can relive it all, not just the sex.
"yes, i remember those morning." he replies with a chuckle.
"i hate waking up now, it reminds me you're gone." i whisper, feeling sad again.
"i know what you mean. it feels weird waking up in my own bed." he mumbles.
"you should come over sometime." i blur out, letting the alcohol get to my head.
"no." he states, being a bit too blunt. i sign plopping down on a bench.
"i'm at a house party, getting wasted." i admit, feeling foolish.
"you'd rather talk to me than hook up with some hottie?" he questions, seeming touched.
"nah, everyone's just too young." i tell him, fighting the truth. he doesn't sound sure though.
"plus it's full of fuckboys." i add trying to force him to understand.
"you should go home than?" he suggests, sounding worried.
"bye. i love you." i tell him before hanging up. i search for a fresh face to join me in my cold bed.
YOU ARE READING
wrong number !! phan
Short Story"wrong number." says a familiar voice. (a/n look sis i wrote this when i was a dumbass kid and like 15 years old. this shit is tough. i romanized depression and suicide and honestly i'm a dumbass bitch ass whore. i'm toxic and feel free to cancel me...
