(Sorry I'm 2 days late)
This was supposed to be a drabble, like a 1500 words or so, but now it's over 4500. Oops. Also, the ending is kinda rushed bc I'm tired.
Modern Au
(Drunk!KeithxReader)
I drum the worn eraser of my pencil against my desk absentmindedly, staring at the swimming pool of numbers from equations I will never use again in my life but for some reason need to know if I wanted to get my art degree. I felt as if I could pass out, not from tiredness but from the sheer boredom I was, and had been, experiencing the past few hours. With my math test tomorrow, which was a Monday just to make it worse, I was seriously loathing my decision to go to college in this very moment. Of course had my dreams and aspirations I wanted to follow but the debate of whether they were worth more than my mental sanity was strong in my mind.
School sucks.
Groaning the pent up frustration out, I drop my head down into the pages of my book, that was way too expensive by the way, trying to clear my head. Staring at those numbers for so long had turned them into a jumbled mess in my mind, making it impossible to concentrate on studying which is what I seriously needed to do. I was able to go through most of the material in the past 4 to 5 hours and felt pretty confident in it. But the last remaining section included the most difficult subject we had been taught the entire semester.
And of course I only get to it after my my will to give any effort what so ever had died a horrible, horrible death.
I close my eyes, attempting to rid of the strained feeling behind my corneas. Not only did they ache but they felt dry despite the imaginary tears of anguish I had been shedding since I sat down at desk and started this mess. I knew a break would do good for not only my eyes but my brain as well but I'm pretty sure I've become immune to the affects of caffeine and will have no extra sustenance to drag me from the grasp of sleep. If I can't finish studying on the last burst of energy I got from my energy drink I'm convinced I'll be done for.
I'm stressed, I'm tired, I'm burnt-out, my eyes hurt-
I'm dragged out of my self pity, which is probably for the best, as my phone vibrates next to my math book. It buzzes loudly in my ear, reminding that reality exists and it's hella annoying, but it keeps going. Groaning, I drop my pencil and blindly search for my phone, my head feeling like lead and therefore considered much too heavy to pick up. After a moment or two I bump my fingers into screen. From there it's easy to swipe the 'accept call' button as I have the layout memorized and can do it without looking.
As I pick up the phone I realize I have to lift my head from the pages to answer the call. Screaming internally I raise my head and rest my chin on the pages, bringing the phone to my ear as my eyes fall on my clock
Who's calling me at 11:57?
"Hello?"
"Y/N!"
My brow furrows as the familiar voice says my name very enthusiastically. Keith? My guess is confirmed as he starts babbling into the phone. Unfortunately it's indecipherable from the slurred way he was talking. Only random words were making sense in the chaos of incoherent phrases. So far I was able to make out 'shots', 'idiot' and 'strong'.
Scooting my office chair closer to my desk I prop my head on my hand in attempts to clear the fog from my mind and kick it into gear. It's not until a few seconds of slurred speach is fed down my ear that a thought finally appears.
"Keith are you drunk?" I ask, cutting off his rambling.
The other side of the phone grows quiet, very faint music playing in the background of wherever he is. I wait patiently for a reply though the answer was pretty obvious at this point. After a few more seconds wait Keith gives a very slow response, expanding each syllable.
