Midsummer's || dks + pcy || discontinued

Cellphone

|| Ronnie ||

How I managed to peel my eyes open was beyond me, a headache building behind my eyes with each passing second I kept my eyes open. The edge of my vision flickered continuously, and it took me sitting up slowly on the leather couch, the quilt falling into my lap, to realize where I was. It was all too familiar. The nights I spent cuddled in a blanket, watching the t.v while I waited for Baekhyun to return from work. It had been nice when it was just the two of us. Before I had managed some stability and moved out. Before Kyungsoo.

Kyungsoo. The name rang through my head multiple times, before I shifted, patting my back pockets for my phone. I had to call him, let him know where I-

"Are you looking for this?" Baekhyun, with his faded pink hair wet and plastered to his temples, sauntered into the living room, my phone held in his hand. I stared hard at it, before glancing from it to my brother. His face, usually always graced with a smile, was stoic. His brown eyes, usually lifted at the edges with evidence of his happiness, were flat, the only emotion swimming in the chocolate depths being that of sadness.

"Yes." Instead of my voice coming out hoarse with the evidence of sleep, my tongue felt thick in my mouth, a nasty taste left to dwell. I scrunched my face up and made to move, wobbling where I stood. Baekhyun moved to catch me, incase I toppled backwards onto the floor, but I righted myself just in time, placing one hand on the arm of the leather couch, and one against my heated forehead. "Why am I at your house Baek?" I grumbled, smacking my lips to clear the awful taste that seemed to linger.

A look of panic crossed my brother's pretty face before he blinked, the deer-in-the-headlights look fading quickly. He sighed softly, before taking the few steps towards me, handing over my phone. He didn't let it go though, even my fingers were now wrapped around it as well as his thin, delicate ones. "Something happened between you and Kyungsoo," he explained, his voice soft, "so you're staying here for a few days."

"Something happened?" I questioned, tugging once on my phone so it slipped from my brother's grasp and fully into mine. The electronic felt like a heavy weight in my palm. "What happened?"

"I dont think you want-" The front door was shoved open, and to my amazement, Chanyeol now stood in the doorway, his shoulders bunched slightly. In his hands, he held one of my old bookbags, and a case of soju. I glanced from the glass bottles to Chanyeol's face. His jaw was hard set, clenched under his pale skin. His eyes were narrowed in anger, his lips pulled into a thin line. "Finally you're here." Baekhyun let out a sound of exasperation, before moving to the giant.

"Yeah," Chanyeol's deep voice rumbled in his chest, making it significantly harder to hear him, as opposed to my brother, whose high pitched voice could be detected from a yard away. "I ran into a bit of a problem while I was out."

"What problem?"

"Morgan was-" As if finally sensing that I was up, Chanyeol lifted his eyes from my brother, to me. His plump lips lifted slightly at the edges in a smile, before he shouldered past my brother, maneuvering around the coffee table to my side. He handed over the bookbag, which felt significantly lighter than the last time I had worn it. "Here. I grabbed some stuff for you."

It took me awhile to figure out he meant clothes, and then it all clicked, a blush rushing from my neck to my cheeks at the thought of Chanyeol shuffling through my underwear drawer. "Uh, thanks."

"Don't worry," he mused, as if he could read my mind and catch onto the troublesome thought I had had, "I didn't grab anything from any drawers. So you might want to go back tomorrow morning." I nodded in agreement, feeling a weight lift off of my shoulders, before sitting myself back down onto the couch. My head had begun spinning again, and so was my stomach. Chanyeol sat at the opposite side of the couch, crossing one long leg over the other.

"Well," Baekhyun made his appearance again, his arms crossed over his chest, "I'm going to head to bed. It's gotten late and I have to get up early in the morning." His eyes shifted from Chanyeol to me, that sad look filling the brown depths, before he glanced over at Chanyeol once again. "Thank you for taking care of her." He bowed at his waist, before departing the living room, heading towards the stairs which lead upstairs to the only 2nd floor bedroom.

Chanyeol let out a soft sigh, leaning his torso against the back of the couch. He stretched his left arm along the top of couch, tilting his head back and staring up at the ceiling. He seemed a lot less joyous then the last time I had seen him. "What's the problem?" I questioned, turning so I was facing him, tucking one leg snuggly under the other.

Chanyeol didn't respond immediately, his wide eyes trained onto the ceiling before he blinked slowly, lifting his head to look drolly at me. "What problem?" I narrowed my eyes at him, resisting the urge to kick my leg out at him.

"You mentioned a problem to Baekhyun. Something about Morgan. What happened?" Chanyeol's eyes widened and he turned his gaze away from me, locking his brown eyes on the wall across from him. He stayed silent for a few seconds, before he shrugged his large shoulder, letting out a small breath.

"No problem," he muttered. He lifted his body off of the couch briefly, grabbing his phone from his back pocket before holding it in front of his face. "I just haven't talked to Morgan since the restaurant accident. I'll call her now." I couldn't resist the urge to scoot across the leather seat, sitting beside him. He effortlessly dialed her number, his thumb tapping across the screen quickly before pressing the glass against his large ear.

He stayed silent as it rang, his hand clenching and unclenching in a fist on his thigh. His eyes brightened though, and he sat up straighter against the couch. "Morgan!" He sounded genuinely happy to be speaking to his girlfriend, as if he hadn't spoken to her in weeks, as opposed to the few hours. However, the expression collapsed within meer seconds of being on the phone. His jaw clenched, he moved slowly, holding the phone out in front of him and pressing the "speaker" button.

"Hello?" Kyungsoo's voice rang out from the phone, startling me away from Chanyeol's side. Why would the two exchange numbers? Only hours before Kyungsoo was telling me how Chanyeol didn't appear to his good side. I bit my lip, focusing my attention and gaze onto the phone. The day was scattered into fragments of memories and that one, the memory of the stiff conversation in the car, just happened to be within grasp of remembering.

"Kyungsoo," Chanyeol's voice rumbled from his chest, anger lacing every letter of my boyfriend's name. "Where is Morgan?"

"Uh," His voice came out breathless, as if he had been running for hours, "I think she said bathroom." Kyungsoo mused, his voice sounding muffled, the sound of shuffling sheets somewhat overpowering his deep voice. The whole situation made my stomach flip.

"Morgan? What the hell is she doing at my house?" I finally managed to get the words stuck in my throat, out. It felt good to speak, but my chest was tightening in anger. The other line of the fell silent, as if Kyungsoo himself was shocked at the sound of my voice.

"Ronnie?"

"Yeah. It's me you bastard. Now," I scooted closer to Chanyeol's side, so close I was basically sitting myself in his lap to snarl into the phone. "What the fuck is Morgan doing at our house?"

"I just needed someone to take me home. I drank alittle after you left the restaurant." Kyungsoo sounded so unsure of himself, but the breathless voice didn't lessen, in fact it increased with the muffled sound of footsteps into the room. My body tensed in anger at the sound of footsteps, standing so quick Chanyeol shifted to the side, and my knee collided with the coffee table.

I made no move to rub at the sure to bruise skin, but instead glared down at the phone. "I'm going to bed Chanyeol," I growled, and on an anger fuiled whim, added "join me when you're done," loud enough for the listeners on the other end to hear. I snatched my bookbag from the floor, and stormed to my first floor room, slamming the door behind me so hard it shook on its hinges.