train wreck ✓

thirty-seven.

"can you-can you put her on speaker?" he wasn't as angry as he looked, in fact he sounded upset and exhausted as his shaky hand came to grip mine. i'd noticed his hands scratching at his wrists before he started to speak, his voice rough and defeated as if he were a nothing beneath her feet, "how the hell did you get this number?"

her voice came clearly through the receiver despite the hesitation and the smashing of things in the background, "i saw you at a coffee shop with some grungy looking black girl. you disappeared so i asked the man working the counter for her number and he gave it to me thinking i was a talent scout. she can sing... for one of them." you could hear the slight wonderment in her voice.

"don't talk about georgia like that, you have no fucking right-"

somehow i'd ended up behind him, my arms had wrapped around miles. he was clenching his jaw and trying to keep calm as everything she said almost through him off the edge. my lips rested on his shoulder as my hands rubbed small circles on his, him visibly calming down, "it's okay, she has her own opinion."

"if you're going to be a racist bitch about it, fucking hang up now." he voiced although not as aggressive as before.

"miles! what has gotten into you?"

"oh, i don't know. maybe it's the fact that my mother kicked me out when i needed her the most and was on the verge of killing myself..." he chuckled humorlessly as his hand tightened on mine, "or maybe because you just fucking disrespected the only person who cares about my well being-"

and my lips moved to his neck as i repeated his name over and over again when he'd clutched my phone, dropping one of my hands in the process, "miles..." that seemed to stop him for a bit as his grip loosened on my phone, and he dropped it on the bed.

but miles was still angry, miles was still losing it quickly and no doubt he'd be smoking and drinking heavily afterwards.

his voice still came out harsh but not as much as before, "why'd you call?" he spat loudly and to the point as his hands came up to intertwine with mine again as his eyes darted from my phone to his hands in mine.

'travis, calm down!'

we heard glass break before a bunch of profanity was screamed and the smashing presumed, heavy footsteps getting closer, "i-i called because um... mr. and mrs. cooper are here and they wanted to talk to you about delilah-"

"no, i'm not gonna sit here while you console that worthless piece of shit!" there was rustling and then the phone was snatched from his mother, miles tensing at the voice that spoke clearly through the phone, "you're a dead man, teller. i'll spit on your fucking grave."