three

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calling the number for the fifth time, i was no longer with my dad. i was at my moms house in brooklyn, and in my room with the door closed tight.

the phone rang a bit until finally, an annoyed voice answered.

"hello? who the fuck is this?" the voice says. i giggle.

"this is a number i was told to call. someone threw a rock at me," i mumbled, making sure no one could hear me.

"oh." there was small silence, and then he finally spoke up again. "well, im max."

"im y/n. im guessing your full name is maxwell or something, right?" i get more comfortable, adjusting the pillow underneath me.

"just call me max. i dont like maxwell, its a weird name," the voice groans. i smile.

"well, i have to go. im sorry - we could have had a longer conversation if you'd've answered the first time," i chuckle. the voice snickers, and hangs up. not even a bye? well, okay.

my brother knocks on the door. "come in!"

he opens the door, handing me my fat cat, c/n. i smile, and place him in my lap.

"your dad told me about... your thing," he pointed to my arm.

"you wont tell mom, right?" i beg, petting c/n and listening to his purrs. my brother nods, and closes the door.

i look into c/n's eyes. a beautiful, bluish green. i sigh, and lay back into my bed with c/n on my breasts.

"youre the only one who understands me, right c/n?" it seems as if he really did understand me, both literally and mentally. he meowed at me and pawed at my face. i smile.

"ill call that kid later. he seems cool," c/n meowed once again followed by a loud purr.

well, max, ill call you soon. i guess.

𝔠𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔟𝔬𝔶 • maxWhere stories live. Discover now