drugged - m.b. · Y/n story by @sqymzl

The Barton living room hummed with the low chatter of friends sprawled across couches and floor cushions. Late afternoon sun slanted through the blinds, striping the carpet in gold. Freya’s head rested warm and heavy in Y/n’s lap, her phone tilted up as she scrolled. Laughter bubbled from somewhere near the kitchen.

Freya Skye

without looking up You’re doing that thing again.

She didn’t specify. She didn’t need to. Y/n’s phone sat face-up on the armrest, Felicia’s text still glowing from ten minutes ago.

Freya Skye

He’s fine. His mum said he’s done. That’s like… certified mom confirmation.

Kylie Cantrall

from the floor She also said he was “loopy.” That’s the word she used. Loopy.

Malia Baker

softly That’s kind of exciting, actually. He’s always so… put together.

Dara Reneé

Until the anesthesia wears off and he starts crying about missing his own birthday. My cousin did that. Cried over a cupcake.

Freya Skye

grins up at Y/n Think he’ll cry over you?

Kylie Cantrall

Probably. He cries over you stone-cold sober.

Freya Skye

laughs No, he writes songs. Big difference.

Felicia Barton

calling We’re back! He’s a little wobbly, so don’t mob him—

Loren Barton

He’s fine, he’s fine. Just hold the door.

Malachi Barton

from outside I can walk. I’m walking. See? Walking.