asra loved you, yet this was his last straw. it’s three in the morning and you’re not back still, doing gods knows what.

asra stared at his clock, tick. tick. tick. he had already left you multiple calls, yet you declined them all. finally, his phone rang, piercing the sound of his clock, yet he dared not answer it.

he stared in the direction of his dimly lit phone, and only walked towards it when the phone switched off. he text you, “why do you only call me when you’re high?”