His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 128: Letter

Chapter 128- Letter

Tyler's POV

I just nodded, not wanting to argue because what was the point when I didn't even know what that letter, or note, or whatever it was, actually said.

Stepping into my room, the first thing I did was strip off my clothes because another shower was non-negotiable;

I needed to wash away the stickiness of the

outside air so I could finally feel human again.

The water hit my skin, almost scalding at first, but then it just felt...right, easing the subtle itch that had been nagging at me all day, like it was finally doing its job.

Man, I loved bathing; I could spend hours under the spray, five times a day wouldn't even be a problem, it was my escape, my little bubble of peace.

After what felt like a proper eternity of letting the water massage away the tension, I finally stepped out, feeling clean and almost reborn as I dried myself off and cranked up the AC before collapsing onto the bed.

My phone didn't even register, neither did that mysterious letter; had I actually forgotten about it, or was I just too lazy to face whatever news it held? Probably the latter, because deep down, I had a feeling that piece of paper was just going to bring some kind of headache, so it was better to deal with it when I was actually awake and prepared for the potential drama, but right now, all I craved was the sweet oblivion of sleep, I told myself as my eyelids started to feel like lead.

The last thing I registered was the gentle rustling of the tree outside my window in the breeze before everything went dark.

Then, just as I was sinking into a deeper, more satisfying sleep, my phone blared to life with a call, and I groaned, already cursing the inconsiderate soul who dared to disturb my hard-earned rest because seriously, sleep like this was a rare luxury, and whoever this was needed to just back off and let me have it, and I would be eternally grateful.

Grumbling, I blindly reached for my phone, my eyes still firmly shut, but before my fingers even closed around it, the call ended, so I just let my hand drop back onto the pillow, hoping to drift back under.

Not even ten minutes later, the same damn ringtone ripped through the silence again.

Seriously? Why couldn't this person just let me enjoy my sleep? I was about to lose it, but I reluctantly reached for my phone again, still keeping my eyes squeezed shut as I fumbled to answer. I finally managed to swipe and hold it to my ear, waiting for a voice, but there was only silence on the other end. "Hello?" I mumbled, then louder, "Hello!!", and again, "Hello!!!" but still nothing.

What kind of twisted individual calls someone and then says absolutely nothing? Some people are just plain jerks, and this person was being a monumental jerk right now by not uttering a single word.

After a few moments of seething in frustration and clicking my tongue repeatedly, I finally forced my eyes open, wanting to see the name of this silent caller so I could block them or maybe even track them down and teach them a lesson in phone etiquette.

I squinted at the screen, and guess what? It wasn't even a call. It was my alarm. My freakin' alarm.

No wonder it stopped and then started again after a while; it was probably on snooze.

Who the hell sets their alarm as their ringtone? I was about to unleash a string of curses on whoever did that when the realization hit me like a ton of bricks – I was the one who did it.

Oh, my bad, I thought to myself, the memory of setting it up earlier in class when I was bored as hell flashing through my mind; I'd thought it was a funny little prank on myself, and now I was seriously regretting my past sense of humor.

I immediately unlocked my phone and not only turned off the alarm but deleted it entirely, because I was not going to let something like that rob me of my precious sleep again; if it did, I swear I might actually lose my mind.

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I didn't even dare to look at anything else on my phone because I knew the temptation to check social media or the news would be too strong, and that would just be a one-way ticket to staying awake, so I just tossed my phone onto the nightstand, deciding sleep was far more important than whatever digital rabbit hole awaited me.

My eyes had just started to drift closed, finally finding that sweet spot of almost-sleep, when BAM! A sudden knock slammed against my door.

My anger flared instantly; seriously, couldn't anyone in this house just let me have one decent, uninterrupted sleep? It was always something, some pointless reason to be disturbed.

The knocking just kept going, relentless, so I grabbed my pillow and clamped it over my ears, desperately trying to block out whatever annoying thing was happening on the other side.

But the knocking didn't stop, not even for a second. Okay, now they were just being deliberately irritating, hammering on the door like they were trying to break it down.

Couldn't Mom just say what she wanted and leave? Why the non-stop assault on my eardrums?

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of this torture, Mom's voice cut through the wood.

"Tyler, you need to come to the living room, it's already 10 pm and dinner is ready. Come eat, it's going to get cold.

I thought you'd be up earlier, so I didn't want to bother you, but it seemed like you were out cold and weren't going to eat tonight, so I had to come call you.

You know I don't want you starving yourself again tonight." I rolled my eyes under the pillow, my anger still simmering. But then her words hit me: 10 pm? How? I shot up in bed, scrambling for my phone to check the time, needing to see if it was actually that late.

I flicked on the screen and hissed under my breath – it wasn't even close to 10 pm, not for another two hours at least. "Gotcha," I heard Mom say from just outside my door, followed by her laughter. Seriously, my mom could be such a pain in the ass sometimes. Scratch that, not sometimes, but pretty much all the damn time.

Well, she'd succeeded in waking me up, and now I knew sleep was going to be a distant memory. Groaning, I dragged myself out of bed, grabbed my phone and the few things I'd need so I wouldn't have to come back to this sleep-depriving room for a while, and headed for the door.

I yanked it open to see Mom still standing there, still chuckling at her brilliant prank, but she didn't even say anything as she turned and walked towards the living room. She just walked right past me.

"That's really offensive, you know, walking past your own son like that," I muttered, but she was already halfway down the hall, not even bothering to acknowledge me. Fine, she woke me up, that's what she gets.

She was lucky I wasn't one of those kids who would make her life a living hell for pulling something like that.

I finally made it to the living room and just collapsed onto the couch, closing my eyes for a brief moment of rest, but I could already hear Mom's footsteps coming closer.

I knew even if I kept my eyes shut, she'd find a way to make me open them, and her ways weren't always the gentlest, so I just sat up.

Grabbing my phone, I started scrolling through social media, hoping to find some juicy gossip or interesting news, but everything seemed so... dull.

It was like all the excitement had vanished from the internet. Maybe there were actually some good stories out there, but my eyes were still a bit blurry from just waking up, so I probably wasn't seeing them properly. Maybe I should give my eyes a few more minutes to adjust before diving into the digital world.

"You can come to the dining table now, Tyler, dinner's ready," Mom called from the kitchen. I immediately stood up, even though I was still annoyed at her for waking me. I might be mad at Mom, but I was never mad at food. I sat down at the table, dished up a generous portion, and started eating.

I was starving, having barely eaten anything at school, so this was probably the best meal I'd had all day. As I was wolfing down my food, Mom cleared her throat. I ignored it, figuring she was just trying not to choke.

But then she cleared her throat again, and again, and even a fourth time, like she was trying to get my attention.

"Mom, just spit it out," I finally said, and she finally spoke. "Did you read that letter?" she asked, and I shook my head, telling her I hadn't, that I'd fallen asleep and hadn't had the chance.

Then I asked her what it even said. After a bit of pestering, she finally told me, her voice a little hesitant. "I was thinking... maybe we shouldn't run away. Maybe we should stay."