Xiao's brow furrows in irritation when his phone won't stop buzzing.

He digs it out of his pocket, watching as new notifications from you continue to pop up.

He opens the chat, scrolling to the very beginning of your long string of spamming, trying to decipher what's going on.

They start out normal, telling him how you're going out with your friends, pictures sent of yourself and your outfit and your drinks. Those were sent a while ago.

But he can tell how intoxicated you get, with each message getting more and more indecipherable, with less time in between being sent.

When he's back at the bottom again, he's met with:

i miss yiu sioiiio bad babyyyyyyy i wish you wrte her e wh y arw yo u ign or inning mw? :(

He sighs, his irritation mixing into concern as he types back.