Morning voice


That good for nothing boyfriend!
I’ve been calling him for maybe the hundredth time that morning, hoping to any god out there that he’d answer. I’m willing to bet everything right now that even if an earthquake shook his house, he’d still be sleeping like a rock. Stupid boyfriend. I groan as the irritating recording started.
“The number you have dialed cannot be reached. Please try again later.”
I did everything within my will not to throw my two year old phone across the room. I love this phone. I love this phone. I repeated to myself. The heat of the morning began to catch up to me, making me feel more irritated. 
“Wake me up tomorrow okay?” He said.
I nodded, before he kissed me goodbye. A million butterflies exploded in my stomach like fireworks, and I felt myself melt into him. He gripped my back, making me stick to him like fly paper. We both removed ourselves from each other, both in need of air. I smiled at him sweetly, before closing the door.
I regret that decision with every bone in my body. I should have shut the door in his face. Or I should have thrown my alarm clock at him that I have lovingly set at five am to wake him up. Stupid boyfriend. I slam my forehead on my computer desk, knowing fully that a small bump was bound to appear there. I dialled his number again, and I stuck my phone to my ear like glue. The deep tone kept ringing, and I breathed in heavily to calm myself.
“Hello love.”
I was ready to yell at him. I really was. I prepared a number of profanities that would hail me as the wife of Satan. I was ready to shut off my phone and let him call me a hundred of times. But damn, everything in me was either turned on or jittery as my heart palpitated for a few seconds. Is this what a heart attack feels like?His voice was so gentle yet so masculine, so caught off guard. It was candid, a situation I loved the best.
“Are you there?” 
His voice brought me to reality again, and I hated the smile that tugged on the corner of my lips.
“I hate you.” I said, pouting. 
He laughed, that laugh that would skyrocket me into a certain kind of high that no drug can ever give. I sighed deeply, feeling the anger wash away.
“Are you done laughing?” I asked, adding a bit of anger in my voice to scare him.
“I’m sorry. I dreamed that we were together. I didn’t want to wake up.”
How could I get mad with an answer like that? This boy is good, too good for my own good. I pretended like I was irritated, so I didn’t answer him.
“Honey? I know you’re there.”
Silence.
“Answer me. I’m like a puppy waiting for a biscuit. But I’m your lost puppy.”
I’m about to lose my resolve here.
“I miss your voice. Talk to me please?”
Five..four..three..two..
“I love you.” Damn it. Was that me? I was so close. I could only imagine him smiling at the other end, looking like a drugged up loon.
“I love you too.”
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Don’t you just hate it when you’re so mad at someone, but they do something that makes your anger melt? This is not fiction by the way. This has happened to me a hundred times before (I’m not exaggerating), and I hate my boyfriend. That’s why we’ve been together for years now. Stupid boyfriend. -.-