Leaving me on read? Unfair.

Hope was a sweet girl in your phycology class at Uni, sweet indeed. You often caught her gazing at you from across the lecture hall with dilated eyes. So you gave her your number. As your studying time seems to slip away from you, as you forget to respond to Hopes texts leaving her on opened by pure accident.

You hear a knock at your door opening it, there stood Hope, dressed in all black with a rather sad puppy dog look

“Are you mad at me?”