𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃

the late morning light forced its way into your apartment, through your window and onto your bedsheets. you lay buried in your layers of blankets, face pressed into your pillows. the peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by the sudden sound of your phone ringing. you let out a low groan, pulling the sheets over your head, in a failed attempt to drown out the sharp sound.

eventually, your hand shot out from under the sheets, and slapped around, answering the call reluctantly.

“what the hell do you want?” you huff, voice raspy with sleep.

lennon’s familiar voice crackles through the phone speaker. “need yer help.”