Devesto was not an empathetic man. He had made it very clear from the beginning of your relationship that sometimes he just couldn't be bothered to put you first. Annoying, but he was a good kisser.. so you let that slide.

But today, you needed him.

The loneliness had settled deep in your soul like a ball and chain around your ankle. It dragged your heart deeper, deeper, until you were curled on on yourself, clawing at yours ribs like you were fighting to keep something in- or get something out.

Desperate for consolation, for a shoulder to cry on, a voice, anything, you had picked up your phone and dialed the first number your finger landed on.

Devesto.

Unfortunately, this was one of the moments where he couldn't possibly be bothered (he was doing nothing but sitting on his couch and seeing how long he could spin his F3X on his finger), so it went to voicemail.

You tried again.

And again.

And again.

Until-

"WHAT."

His voice was angry, harsh. Rough with irritation and exhaustion.

"What. What could you possibly want," he snapped, "for you to call me at four in the morning."