Unscripted (Lauren/You)

XI

A/N  WARNING. THERE MAY BE A TRIGGER WARNING FOR SOME READERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

For the past couple of days, I've been sleeping on the couch at Reagan's place. Despite her roommates being crazy and loud, they were completely okay with letting me crash for as long as I needed and didn't pry into my business. Reagan, on the other hand, interrogated me every second she possibly could. I told Reagan everything, every single word that was exchanged that day, but she still asked for more details.

Right now, I'm starting to settle down and getting myself ready to sleep my fifth night at Reagan's apartment. Everyone else had finally gone to bed, considering it was three in the morning now. Good thing I don't work tomorrow, or else I'd be a zombie barista.

"Y/N," I heard Reagan whisper from her door. I looked up after laying my blanket out and saw her beckoning me with a hand wave. "Come here," she whispered again.

Letting out an inaudible sigh, I walk my way over to Reagan's room, who then eagerly pulled me in and shut the door behind her. "Well okay, then," I mumbled, caught off guard by her sudden action.

"Spill," she whispered, a little louder than before.

"Spill what?" I asked, plopping down on her bed in exhaustion.

"Everything," she urged, taking a seat next to me.

"How are you so awake right now?" I question, curious as to how she's so energetic this late at night.

"I ate a bunch of Skittles a bit ago, but that's besides the point," she rushed out in one breath, shaking her head when she noticed she was off topic. "Tell me what he's said to you today."

Knowing that she wasn't going to give up on this, I took my phone out while releasing a tired sigh. "He texted me four times and left one voicemail," I told her as I looked at the history in my phone.

"What do they say?" Reagan asked intrigued, eyes wide open as if this were a soap opera and she didn't want to miss a second.

I handed my phone over to Reagan, letting her go through them since I don't particularly care at the moment, and I laid down on the bed.

Reagan started reading the texts, listing them off as if they were homework, "Y/N, please talk to me...I'm so sorry, please let me explain...You can't hide from me forever," she looked up at me after that one, giving me a questioning look. "Fine, I'll find you myself," she read the last one, a hint of a skeptical tone in her voice.

"Well that'll definitely get me back home," I joked, letting my head fall back down on the bed.

"Why don't you?" Reagan asked. I tilted my head back up to look at her, raising an eyebrow in question. "I mean, it is your place. You could always just kick him out."

I sighed again, getting ready to explain my reasoning to her once again, "Going home means seeing him, which I don't want. And kicking him out means talking to him, which I really don't want."

Reagan let out a heavy breath, and we both knew she was about to say something she didn't want to. "Okay, I really don't want to say this but," she paused, getting herself ready to say this. "I think you should go talk to him," Reagan breathed out slowly.

Knowing she's right, I threw my head back on the mattress and groaned, "I know. I...I just don't want to face him."

"I know, sweetie," she cooed sympathetically, rubbing my leg to comfort me. "But you have to resolve this. And the sooner you do it, the better." I looked up at her from my position, silently telling her that she was right. "But make sure you do it in a public place. I don't want that molded piece of cheese laying his hands on you."