𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙏𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙂𝙪𝙮 | PJM ff

𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝘼𝙞𝙙

I sighed, "one. Last. Bite." I hesitantly pushed the spoon into my mouth.

I threw my head back groaning.

It's sweet that Jimin cares about my health but this is probably his amount of daily intake.

I shot my eyes open.

Right.

I haven't talked to Lyla after I left.

She must be worried as hell.

I fished out my phone from the small pocket on my pants before I pressed the little button on top.

My phone screen lit up showing a picture of Lyla and I, taken at the prom last Christmas.

But confusion spread on my face when I saw no new notifications

I clicked into our chat.

You
Yo
I'm back to the dorm now
Got a sprained shoulder and a big ass wound on my ankle
Where are you?
You wanna come over for a sleepover?

I rubbed my eyes checking if my vision was working properly.

There were two blue ticks meaning she read my messages already but she wasn't replying me.

3 minutes later and she's still not replying. She even went offline.

With a heavy stone on my heart, I clicked onto the call button.

Soon it was picked up.

I spoke, "hey what are you doi-"

"What."

It didn't even sound like a question.

I frowned. "Lyla is everything alright? I'm your friend. You can tell me anything."

I heard a snicker. "Are we?"

My head jerked back at her attitude. My jaw dropped.

What did I even do?

There was a moment of silence before she said calmly, "you know, friends share. But not everything. There's a limit."

Beep-

The called ended. She hung up.

I dropped my hand onto the table. My phone slipped and hit the ground.

I was still processing what just happened.

I laughed. Is this a prank?

She sounded so serious.

But I didn't even do anything.

We're fine before the competition and after that, I injured myself already. We didn't meet ever since. There's literally no time for anything to happen.

What? She's angry that I hurt myself?

My breathing picked up its pace as a slight bit of anger rose up in my chest.