The night was, perhaps, the time that the bad-tempered boy most appreciated; He could be in solitude, without being overwhelmed by noises or people bothering him around him, only accompanied by the most intimate thoughts of him.

He was never someone who was characterized by a good sleep schedule, finding himself most of the mornings reading or killing time with his cell phone, which was what he was doing.

Until the cell phone began to vibrate and Unknown number appeared on the screen, which was not so foreign to the one with violet hair, since he knew his ex's number backwards and forwards. His neurons didn't connect before his impulsive thoughts took place, answering the call.

• "What the hell is wrong with you to call me at this hour?"