Disclaimer: I will never own Shugo Chara!
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Phone Calls on Repeat
The phone vibrated violently on the night table. A lone, pale hand snaked out and snatched it up, disappearing back underneath the cocoon of blankets and sheets.
"Ikuto speaking." Came a muffled voice from below the covers.
"Yo, it's Utau."
The blanket tugged down to reveal a guy who appeared to be in his late twenties, with catching midnight eyes and an equally blue bed-head.
"What's up?" he questioned, however he could probably predict what she was going to say. It was becoming a routine, the calls.
"I wanted to check up on you." Ikuto could imagine her heather orbs gleam with concern as she said it.
"So…" he let his voice trail off. There was a beat of silence between the siblings.
"So," Utau repeated. "How are you?" She was probing, as-per-usual.
He sighed, running slender fingers through his shaggy locks of dark sapphire.
"Why do you ask, when you already know the answer?" He finally inquired. It's been bothering him a lot lately, the hovering—the worry. He didn't need it, nor did he want it—her pity.
The phone made a shifting noise as Utau flipped some blonde strands from her face. She had gotten it restyled a couple of years back—cropped to the bottom of her ears and parted to the side. She had donated her hair to a charity that collected it. Her manager said it was for 'publicity reasons', but really, she did it because she needed a fresh start.
"You never know. One of these days…" Utau replied softly. Ikuto's eyes drifted shut for a moment, before they opened wide like a cat's—alert.
"Look, I gotta go."
"O-oh. Alright. I love you." Utau stuttered into the phone. Long ago she'd given up on her brother complex.
"Love you too." He mumbled, ending the conversation by hanging up.
It was quiet, save for the murmuring of the refrigerator in the small kitchen. Ikuto sat up, sheets pooling into his lap and leaving his chest bare. He stared at the blank wall for a moment. Then he frowned.
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