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Last Words of a Shooting Star

1:36 A.M.

It was dark outside with a couple clouds that littered in the night sky. The cresent moon hung over the buildings the city. Even though it was way early in the morning, cars could be heard driving through the streets, either going to or from work. The occasional sirens of police or ambulance would take up the empty space. Who would be dying at such a time?

You sat on your desk chair, staring into the abyss of pitch black. The breeze of your open window gently push the curtains in front of your face. The soft silk of the curtain caressed your sickly pale face and dark under eyes. Out of the corner of your eye, shadows moved from one corner of your room to another. You would have never seen them if only you went to sleep. This voice icthing the back of your head to call the one you love the most, but you couldn't. He was sleeping on the other side of the world.

Staying up until you eventually grew tired was sufficient for now. How much longer could you last? You would go to sleep if your room was tidy and not litered with papers on the floor. You would go to sleep if your bed let you. If your thoughts let you. Maybe it was just paranoia that couldn't let you sleep, but paranoid about what?

The sounds of vibrations could be heard throughout the room. You jumped up at the sudden noise and answered your phone call, mistake number one, "Hello?"

A voice that sounded like they just came up from sleep was heard through the phone, "Why are you up this late?"

"I can ask the same for you," a quick reply that avoids an answer.

"It's around seven here, now I know it is like what?... one a.m. where you live. So, tell me, what are you doing up?"

Now, there was no point in making up a lie. "I couldn't sleep again."

"Again?" The sound of sheets being moved could be heard through the phone, "For how long?"

"Just yesterday and to-"

"[Y/N], you're lying," Alex's tone was stern, something you never heard a lot of. "Tell me the truth, how long ago did it start again?"

Right, again. That same thing as this night happened a couple months ago.

You tried your best to steady your voice so it didn't sound like you were on the verge of tears, "A week... a little more than a week ago?"

A sigh could be heard, "Do you want me to fly over and visit?"

"No, it's okay," A part of you did wish he would come and ignore your words. "I wanna try and do this by myself."

"Alright," he responded hesitantly, "Don't be afraid to call me anytime, okay?

"Yeah..." you gave him a simple response. You were ready to end the call, but he had other things to say.

"Because I know you won't sleep, even if you promise me you will once we end the call, so just stay with me in the line until you feel tired." Such a caring soul. "Please."

A slight hesitation from you, "I will." You stood up from your seat and opened the window even more to let the air in. You looked down from your window of your apartment complex.

"Hey, what are you doing?" His worried tone is apparent through the phone.

"Don't worry," you struggled to move the curtains to the side. "I wanted to open the window more. It's kinda stuffy." You heard a hum and looked around your room once you were done putting the curtains to the side. Might as well collect papers from the floor.

¿ɪꜱ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴀʟ? ✰𝔸𝕝𝕖𝕩 𝕋𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕖𝕣 𝟙-𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤 Where stories live. Discover now