i like the feeling of your skin on my tongue.

meet ; 1.0

Purse. Where is the purse? Did I leave it here...? Oh- it's on my shoulder.

A lady's lips twist to smile in glee while her body stays still on the hospital bed, eyes closed at the direction of Y/N, knowing her exact thoughts.

"Take care Lana, I'll come visit again after work. It'll be evening by then," Y/N wave her hand, her E/C orbs reflecting the bright sun, "I'll bring you avocado juice! I know this amazing place behind my apartment..." Y/N trails off to check her purse, before smiling. She lets out a bright smile, "I'll be going!"

She run down the stairs from the third floor- the lifts are occupied, and she'd be late if she waited-, passes by the first floor lobby, before pulling her phone up to her ears to accept her friend's call.

A ragged breath was on the other side of the line.

"Juan? The hell you panting like a dog for? I'm on my way outside, so don't worry, we won't be late," Y/N hangs the call up immediately and runs through the front door, spots Juan's car and ram her heels on the floor to get to it, her sport shoes are getting more and more broken each day.

"Just drive!" She shouted once her hands grip on the car door's handle, and Juan didn't even hesitate; starting the car up as she enters the car by, with no shame, throwing herself on the seat and pulling the door by her toes after she basically ripped her shoe off. "Sorry for the trouble, you're the best as always!" Y/N shouts as she put on her very, very annoying high heels. "And anyways, I'd have been scarred for life if that call wasn't from you. Don't panic! We won't be late!"

"What call?"

Juan stares at her through the mirror, "I didn't call you," his eyes dart back off to the road. "Since when do I even care about being late? I hate meetings." Juan opens the window next to him, the air brushing his dirty blonde hair. Not gonna lie, suits look good on his trapezoid body- or whatever he said yesterday about his type. Judging from what he talks about with her on daily basis, Juan is more of the sporty type of guy in Y/N's view, but he keeps saying he'd wish for an inverted triangle type of body- whatever that means.

"But... Don't joke around, you actually called me," Y/N sits straight up and lean on the back of his seat. "No I didn't, check my phone," Juan instantly hand over his phone, opened.

Y/N, in the middle of feeling her stomach churn because Juan's driving, looked at his call history. It was empty- pathetic. Be a little more social, Juan. But nonetheless, this proves that the call wasn't from him.

"Wait, won't it be more of a big brain move if you check your own phone instead?" Juan took a sharp turn, "Check it, my phone might be sabotaged or something. I'm popular."

"Stop with the brag, you suck at living," Y/N laughs jokingly and checks her phone. The damn touch ID took so long to recognize her finger as a finger in general that Y/N started to think she was made of plastic.

"No... It wasn't your number."

Juan shrugged his shoulders, sharp eyes swiping the road.

"Wait, what was even in that call? You said something weird about it earlier," Juan's tone filled with curiosity.

"Just some guy breathing hardcore to the phone."

"...can you send me the number?"

-

Behind the crowded lobby, someone said to his coworker, "I'll be going now. We'll change shifts again evening, right?"

"Right."