Scars Don't Heal When You Keep Cutting ♡ brusnop

Chapter Thirty Two

I wake up again at four in the fucking morning when Ben sneezes loudly, jumping back against the wall from the sudden fright. Ben gawks at me as this happens, and we just kinda stare at each other for a moment before he starts laughing at me as if that was the funniest shit the world has to offer. Ben has one of the most contagious laughs ever, as cliche as this may sound, and I couldn't help but laugh right along with him, despite it being four in the morning (my parents won't appreciate me and Ben waking them up at such early hours at all-- they won't even like us being up so early, honestly).

Our laughter eventually ceases, leaving us to just smile at each other, and Ben doesn't even bother to cover up his smile this time. Instead, he reaches for my hand to play with my fingers, also typical Ben behavior, along with his constant blushing.

"You have soft fingers," Ben chuckles a bit himself. I use my free hand to trace my fingertips up and down his jawline, occasionally straying off the path to graze his cheek.

"And you have a soft face, like a baby's ass cheeks."

"A baby's ass cheeks?" he giggles, pressing more into my hand, just like a cat would.

"A baby's ass cheeks, yeah."

"All the soft things in the world, and I have to be some ass cheeks," Ben feigns disappointment, followed by a dramatic sigh.

"You love it," I laugh. "Go to sleep, ass cheeks."

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It's noon now, and Ben and I are cuddling with his back to my chest. He's playing another one of those silly internet games on his phone, Google Feud. He's been playing in the questions category this whole time, and all I have to say is that people google some stupid ass shit. We both laugh whenever we see a weird and/or pathetic answer, and Ben gets frustrated whenever an answer is so dumb that it's impossible to guess it.

He's about to start the next round when someone starts calling his phone, an unsaved number flashing across his screen. It's from our area code, though, but that only makes Ben a little more nervous. I offer to answer the call for him, who responds by placing the phone into my hand.

I sit up and answer the call, putting it up to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hello? Who is this?" an older, unfamiliar, feminine voice asks. Whoever the fuck this is doesn't sound too pleased, though.

"Um, you called me?? Who is this??"

"I'm DJ Reed's mom, and he's been receiving unpleasant messages from this number."

"Okay, but it was to defend myself?? I'm not just gonna sit here and take shit from someone, pardon my french," I say, trying my best not to get an attitude with this lady.

"I've scrolled through them all. He hasn't even sent you a single message. You're gonna stop texting my son or I'll report you to the police."

What the fuck?? Dude, this fucking asshole probably deleted the fucking messages on his phone and left the ones I sent!!

"Do you realize that you can fucking delete messages from your own phone?? I can send you screenshots from my own phone if you don't believe me," I snap back, not being able to hold back my attitude anymore.

"You better drop the attitude right now. And I don't need you to send me screenshots, my son wouldn't lie to me about this."

"Jesus fucking Christ, you are one stupid ass bitch! Why would I offer to send screenshots if I was fucking lying?? I would look fucking dumb as shit after not being able to send them!"

"You sound dumb right now."

"LIKE YOU'RE FUCKING ONE TO FUCKING TALK!! WHY AM I EVEN WASTING MY FUCKING BREATH--"

"Woah, what's going on in here??" my mom calls out as she slams my door open. "Who are you on the phone with?"

"Remember that DJ kid I told you about? His mom!"

"Here, I'll handle it," my mom says, walking into my room to take the phone before leaving again.

Me and Ben are both quiet as I sit, trembling in anger and glaring into space as I try to calm myself down. I fucking hate stupid people like her, they always piss me off so bad. Typical fucking mom who thinks their children are too perfect for this earth. Dumbass bitch.

"Danny, are you okay?" Ben whispers hesitantly.

"The Dsnop is definitely kicking DJ's ass next time we see him," I grumble out as I lay back down next to Ben, cuddling against him.