ELEVEN.

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The few days past, you were always having your phone around you incase Harry calls when he is free. You would never forgive yourself if you weren't there when he calls. The daily routine of telling each other what happened throughout the day was still carried on over the phone. But it was a bit harder because you can't see his face and those sweet dimples when he laughs because he refuses to face time.

"I look awful," he'd say every time you begged him to face time.

"I find that both an insult to my face and my feelings," you would roll your eyes but soon realize he couldn't see your classic eye roll because he refused to face time.

The small chats over the phone in mid-afternoon is mostly giggling and talking about your surroundings, it didn't last long, but it still feels good to listen to his oddly comforting voice. And every day, you'd always hope that the moon ascends and took over the sun's job so you could have a nice conversation with him. You hoped that it turns night way long before the day even started.

"Having little chats with him again?" Danny sat down across you.

"Yea," you sighed before locking your phone off. "I miss him so much."

He smiled, "sure you do, sunshine."

You smiled back, things haven't got awkward like the way you thought it would be but there was still a thin layer of tension between you and Danny. The both of you carried on with your days as usual and the conversation over the hard wood floor vanished like a blurry dream.

"Hey, um, do I have to bring anything over tonight?" Your roommate was throwing a party in celebration of eighth year anniversary between you and him, he does this every year and every year, the next morning, you are always in duty to clean up his mess. But you never mind it, even though you both always ended up in a fight of what started with you complaining.

"Yea, bring your brain. Because I'm pretty sure you'll forget about it, just like every day," you said.

'Ha. Ha. Ha."

"Bring your car, you might have to drive me back to Harry's in case I am not sober and I surely do not want to sleep with a drunk in my bed or bathroom."

"Yeah, sure, send me the address."

Around eight thirty, the house started to flood with crowds of people you barely know, the music blasting off with something that isn't relaxing and you constantly checking your phone to see if Harry called in case you couldn't hear the phone ring over the high-volume party.

It started out with your roommate bragging you to everyone in the party until the party got merrier and your roommate getting drunk and possibly shoving his tongue inside his partner's mouth. You shuddered at that thought as you continue squeezing your way through the sweaty crowd, making your way to the backyard. When you finally reached the door, you couldn't help but to take deep breaths in of the city's air that doesn't smell like alcohol and sweat. Danny was sitting under a tree, you walked up to him and sat by him.

"So I take it that you're not enjoying the party?" you asked, taking in a swine of your drink.

"It's great, just too – sweaty," he said.

You let your drink run down your throat and hissing slightly at the burning sensation, "it's still an unresolved mystery to me of why people likes to party."

"I know, like why do you want to go to someone's house and dance with a bunch of people you barely know, and hook up with some random guy and get pregnant. Thus, the end of your awesome-partying-till-late-night life."

You giggled, "Or if you see it another way, go to some random person's house, get drunk, get sweaty, can't score a hookup, and then you go back home reconsidering your attractiveness. Thus the beginning of the typical I-got-implants story." You handed him your drink which he gladly took.

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