Lips of an Angel

Something stirred me from my sleep, but I was unsure of what it was. I sat up in bed, glancing at the slim blonde still asleep in my bed, before letting my eyes skim over the familiar bedroom. Nothing. I shook my head and began to lay down again, and that’s when I heard it. The phone? I glanced at the clock on my nightstand, displaying 2:37 in garish red digits. I slid silently from between the sheets and padded cautiously across the carpet, careful to not disturb any of the furniture in the room and cause a noise. I opened and closed the door with practiced silence, and walked less delicately through the apartment and into the kitchen, where the offending object was ringing loud and clear.

Honey why you calling me so late?
It’s kinda hard to talk right now.
Honey why are you crying? Is everything okay?
I gotta whisper ’cause I can’t be too loud

I swept a stray curl of hair behind my ear and lifted the receiver, pressing the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I whispered, hoping it wasn’t some stupid telemarketer calling.
“H… hey.” Was the pained reply from an all-too-familiar voice. She was clearly crying and I felt a sharp pain tug at my heart. I sat myself down lightly on one of the breakfast bar stools, and listened to the thick sobs on the other end of the phone. The apartment was terrifyingly silent and I wondered if Bethany could hear the sobs, or my increasingly erratic breathing.
“Babe, what’s wrong?” I muttered trying to keep my voice down, and hoping that she could hear me down the phone.

Well, my girl’s in the next room
Sometimes I wish she was you
I guess we never really moved on
It’s really good to hear your voice saying my name
It sounds so sweet
Coming from the lips of an angel
Hearing those words it makes me weak

“Why are… you whispering?” She choked out between sobs. I felt my throat tighten and my eyes tear up slightly.
“Beth’s asleep in the other room.” I replied simply, “Why are you crying?”
“I… Please, help.” Was all I could make out through the tears. I could feel the pain behind them and jumped off the bar stool, becoming scared.
“What is it? Is it Aiden?” I asked her, anger evident in my voice as I began to pace across the kitchen, becoming entangled in the phone cord.