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ghost-of-you · 2 years

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Catch 22 - CH - Part 1

Paring: Calum Hood x Original Female Character

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Some swearing but I think that’s it, this part is pretty chill.

Author's note: Okay, so, this story is my nemesis. If you follow me you probably saw me complaining about this at least once. I’ve been writing this since April 2019 and I’ve tried to write some form of it many times since 2013 so the fact that I'm actually posting this is quite impressive to me. This started as a one-shot of a fight and, well, I thought about how I could make the full story work this time and it got out of my control. It’s kinda like if I wrote the guy my 17 yo self was building in her head while he kept pulling shit on me.

About the story: the full thing is about 60k long, and it’s a slowburn, it’s unconventional, but still a slowburn, they just go around and around, you’ll get what I mean. Honestly, when I think about this story I think about how I met your mother and the quote “If you have chemistry, you only need one other thing: timing. But timing is a bitch." I really like chronic bad timing as a plot point and the interesting thing about bad timing is that once it's wrong it's really hard to get it right, add that and a shit ton of denial and we have them. Oh there's also a lot of best friend Michael cuz this is self-indulging okasoasas

quick shoutout to @in-superbloom and @hoodharlow for the feedback on this and literally everyone that had to listen to me talk about this in the past 3 years or so.

The title for this one is from State of Grace by Taylor Swift.

read it on ao3

Series Masterlist

playlist

part 2

_____________________

And I never saw you coming

2011

Sitting on the floor of Michael's room while losing to him in whatever video game they are playing is a common thing in Emma's life. What isn't as common are the other boys that crashed into it. Although they are quickly becoming a constant in her routine: getting home from school, listening to the loud sounds coming from the house next door, crashing rehearsals, and talking about music.

Days like this, where there isn’t someone playing some instrument, are rare, but the Mario Kart match escalated, and Michael and Luke not wanting to admit defeat had turned the game into a full tournament. Emma is betting on Michael and Calum, on Luke.

"Of course, Michael is going to win, playing is all he ever does," she states, gesturing to both boys in the bed while sitting on the floor next to Calum, and that makes Michael protest with a "hey.”

"But Luke is better at this game," Calum says as a red shell hits Luke, allowing Michael to pass him in the last curve.

"Is he, though?" Emma points at the screen, grinning at Calum, making him roll his eyes.

"Victory!" Michael says, dropping his controller, and she leans forward to high-five him.

"That doesn't prove anything," Luke complains as the podium sequence plays on the screen.

"Wasn't that the whole point of the last 30 minutes? Come on it's just a stupid game, who cares?" Emma says, running her hands through her hair.

"I do!" Both boys answer in unison.

“You guys are ridiculous. This game takes more luck than ability. You can be the first, take a blue shell just because you’re loading too much of the track and loose, or Michael can be second during the whole thing and get a red one and pass Luke in the last second. You’ll never settle this. We’ll be here forever at this pace.” She doesn't realize how frustrated she sounds, throwing her hands up, as the two boys looked at her dumbfounded.

“She’s got a point, mate,” Calum says by her side, pressing his lips to stop himself from laughing, and she bursts into laughter when she turns to him. She doesn’t really know why she’s laughing so much. It all just feels so funny to her. So she throws her head back, laughing until she’s out of breath. The boys following as if the girl losing it was the funniest thing that happened that day. Not Michael pushing Calum off the bed when he was about to pass him. Or the terrible race between Emma and Luke where she somehow finished it a full five minutes after he won.

“No, I don’t, not really,” she says when she finally catches her breath again. “That was intense for someone that’s saying you’re the ones too invested,” she adds, looking at Michael, who has an amused expression on his face.

“Does that mean you don’t want me to win?” He asks her with a grin.

“Well, it would be good for your ego to lose sometimes. It’s not like I’m that big of a competition,” Emma shrugs, “at least Luke makes you work for it.”

“So it means you’re admitting I’m the best?” He brags, making her roll her eyes.

“Wouldn’t you like that, M? Maybe you should start another tournament, it’s not like you’re gonna settle this anytime soon.”

“Or we could rehearse like we were supposed to,” Calum says, eyeing them.

“Cal's right,” Luke says, picking up a guitar.

“So, you’re giving up?” Michael questions and Luke just sighs.

“Winning by default it’s not really winning,” Calum says.

“But I already won.” Michael protests, looking around his friends.

“Did you? Did you really?” Calum adds, making Emma choke on a chuckle.

"After this, I want a rematch," Michael replies, pointing at Luke before picking up his guitar.

"You want a rematch for a game you won?" Emma asks, with a giggle. "See, I told you losing would be good for your ego."

"That doesn't make any sense, trouble," he says, giving her a confused look.

"Of course it does," she shrugs as if telling him to let it go. "What song are you doing next?"

_____

"Hey," Emma says before sitting down on the curb and nudging the boy already sitting there with her shoulder and Calum turns and smiles at her, removing his earphones.

"Hi," he replies, while she takes her backpack off her shoulders and places it in front of her.

"It's M not home yet?" She asks, wondering why he's sitting outside alone.

"Nope," he answers, fidgeting with the cable in his hands.

"Shouldn't you be in school with him then?" She tilts her head, studying him, his brown eyes staring back into her hazel ones.

"I skipped it today," he replies, voice low.

"M is at school and you're not?" She laughs, sounding confused before pausing and looking at him for a moment, “are you okay?” She adds, still trying to read him.

“Yeah, just tired,” he nods and rubs his eyes before going back to playing with the cable, twisting it between his fingers.

“Okay,” she decides not to push it. “What are we listening to?” She asks, taking the earphones from him, putting one side in her ear, and listening until she recognizes an All Time Low song playing. She nods to it, scooting closer to him and offering him the other side. He raises an eyebrow to her, before letting out a chuckle and taking it, placing it in his ear.

They stay like that until the song changes, and he relaxes beside her, dropping his head to her shoulder. She giggles when he yawns and lowers her head to his. That’s how Michael and Luke find them after a few songs, sharing earphones on the sidewalk.

“Awn,” Michael says, making Emma roll her eyes and Calum dart away, taking the cord with him, making Emma turn to him, laughing at the alarm in his face.

“You good?” She asks, getting up, and the boy nods. “Come on,” she offers her hand, helping him stand up and stopping in front of him, still holding his hand. “You sure?” She whispers, tilting her head, searching his face. Something about his expression softens, looking at her, and he nods again, letting go of her hand.

“This is like, the first time in months, I’m home before you guys get here,” she turns to the other boys, greeting them with fist bumps, before picking her backpack from the ground, “but I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says and waves, walking away backward.

“Wait, you’re not coming?” Michael asks, frowning at her.

“Nope, sometimes I need to catch up on my school work, if you’re gonna be the famous one, I need to be the smart one,” she jokes, stopping to see his reaction.

“What are you implying?” He frowns harder at her as the other two boys laugh, and she raises her hands.

“You can get whatever you want from that,” she shrugs, “I’ll love you anyway.” She turns on her heels, mock-saluting them, “I’ll see ya soon.”

She reaches her gate and waves again to the boys still on the sidewalk, before going in.

_______

"Let's go to the beach," Emma offers, getting up from the floor. They are in Calum's house, supposedly at band rehearsal, now that school is out and they are actually a band, but Emma could tell they were drained. Michael was playing the same note repeatedly, and Ashton was just slowly hitting the same spot on his cajón again and again. They all look at her like it's a terrible idea. "Come on, you guys haven't come up with anything since we got here. You need to get your energy flowing," she adds but they still didn't look convinced. "It's a beautiful day, please, you'll feel better and I like a spot not far from here," she says, looking at Ashton with pleading eyes, knowing that if she convinces him, then the others will follow.

"She's right," Calum says, taking her by surprise, but she smiles at him.

"Come on," she says moving to Michael, taking the guitar away from him with no resistance, taking his hands and pulling him to his feet, "we can take a ball, it will be fun."

"Are you trying to convince me by using a ball?" He gives her an unimpressed look.

"I'll let you throw it at people's heads," she jokes, making them laugh.

"Fine," he agrees, making her let out an excited "yes!" As she spins on her heels, "you do have a ball, right?" She says to Calum, making the boys grin, and Calum smirks and raises an eyebrow at her, "don't you dare," she warns him, raising her eyebrow and he raises his arms in defense, "I meant a football or something, didn't you used to play?"

"I do have a football or something," he looks like he's going to add something, but she shoots him another warning look.

"Great, go get it and let's go!" She shoos him, laughing and he frowns at her but does what she asks while she moves around the room, getting the rest of the boys to get up.

The walk to the place Emma wants to go is short, passing quickly as she stops Michael from throwing the ball into random strangers.

"But you said you'd let me," he pouts when she finally takes the ball away from him.

"Yeah, I meant Luke's head," she replies, earning a "hey" from the blonde while the rest of them laugh.

They finally get to the beach, a spot by the end of it, rock formations to the left, and a patch of sand with not much around.

Emma kicks her sneakers off, picking them up and making a beeline straight to the sea. She's laughing and kicking water, Michael joining her.

"Is it cold?" One of the boys asks as she jumps to Michael's back.

"Yeah," she answers and laughs when Michael pretends to throw her into the water, making her hold on to him harder. He's holding her by her thighs and walks them back to the rest of the boys.

"So? You're all just gonna stand there?" She asks, giving a disapproving look, resting her chin on Michael's shoulder.

"What are we supposed to do?" Luke asks.

"How should I know? I just wanted to get you all out of that room. You need some fun," she says with a grin.

"You could throw the ball at them," Calum suggests handing him the ball, and the blonde grins turning back to Emma and Michael, making her screech and jump off Michael's back the moment the ball hits him. He surprisingly catches it and throws it back, hitting Calum, who turns it into a game of dodgeball.

She doesn’t know how it happens, but all 5 of them are lying in the sand, Emma laughing so hard her belly hurts about how the ball bounced off Luke's head into Ashton's.

"I'm gonna go find us something to drink," Ashton says while getting up. "Does anyone want to come?"

"Yeah, sure," Luke says while he and Michael stand up.

"I'm fine right here," Emma says, and Michael looks back, looking conflicted.

"I'll stay with her," Calum tells him, who nods, and the boys start walking to the street, leaving them alone and Calum moves closer to sit beside her.

"How are you not freezing?" He asks, making her look down at her tank top and his hoodie while sitting up. The sudden change in the weather took her by surprise, the sun hiding and the salty wind picking up speed, making her painfully cold now that he had pointed it out.

"Oh, I am," she reaches her hand to him, touching his cheeks with ice-cold hands and he curses.

"I would offer my hoodie, but then I'd be cold," he jokes, making her roll her eyes. He looks thoughtful for a second and shifts in the sand, getting behind her, legs outstretched on both of her sides, "come here," he pulls her towards him, making her gasp, but melt into him when he wraps his arms around her, "no reason why any of us have to be cold."

"God, you're warm," she drops her head to his shoulder, leaning back on his chest, trying to get as much heat as she could, while she sneaks her hands into his sleeves.

"And you're an ice cube," he states, taking her hand from his arm, making her move her head so she could look at him. "You know, for someone that's claiming to love the beach, you'd think you wouldn't be transparent," he jokes, laughing at how white she is as he looks at her fingers between his.

"Hey, I'm tanner than M," she protests and he laughs.

"That's not hard."

She is about to protest when he pulls the ends of his sleeve, covering his right hand and taking her left, intertwining their fingers, effectively covering hers too. He does the same with the other hand, and she settles back against him.

"God, I love you," she closes her eyes, enjoying the heat.

"Nah, you just love how hot I am," he teases, and she laughs.

"Yeah, you're right."

They start talking about the plans for the holidays, her head moving to lay on his arm, so she could look at him, making him shift his leg up to rest his arm on his knee, making it more comfortable.

"Guys," Ashton's voice startles them both, making Emma jump and Calum drop his head to her shoulder with a sigh, while the boys sit down on the sand next to them, Michael shooting her a weird look and she mouths a “what?” and he mouths back “you two are cute,” and winks at her making her roll her eyes.

“Here,” Ashton throws a bottle to Emma, but Calum is faster, letting go of her hand and catching it before it falls. She laughs, looking at Calum and back at Ashton, getting her hands ready to pick up the second bottle he’s about to throw. She catches it and drops her head on Calum’s shoulder, and the boys start talking about some game, and she just relaxes, the last few rays of the sun making her content with just being there.

It doesn’t take long before the sun is completely gone, and thunders start rumbling, bringing them back to reality.

She detaches herself from Calum, getting up, shaking the sand off of her, and reaching a hand out to him to help him up. He takes it, holding on to it for a second too long. When they get to the street, Calum takes his hoodie off and hands it to Emma.

"I thought you weren't going to offer," she teases, accepting it but looking unconvinced down to it.

"I can take it back if you don't want it," he reaches for it, but she pulls it away.

"No!" She says, her voice high-pitched, "I was just wondering."

"My house is the closest, love, it's fine."

She looks at the hoodie in her hands and back to his face before pulling it over her head, not even noticing he had just called her love. It goes down to her thighs, almost covering her shorts. She's folding the sleeves so she can use her hands when she notices him looking at her.

"What?" She shoots him a questioning look, and he shakes his head and says, "nothing," at the same time Michael calls for her.

She’s still looking at Calum as the soft smile fades from his face when she moves away from him.

___

Emma doesn't even have time to question herself on why she is there. The rain took her by surprise, and now she's knocking on Calum's door, her feet taking her there because she has no idea where else to go. She's painfully cold and soaking wet from the run, praying for him to be home.

"Emma?" Calum takes in the sight of her with confused eyes, and she almost cries out in happiness at seeing him.

"Hi, can I wait here?" She says trying not to think about how cold she's feeling, "I called my dad but he can't pick me up yet and I'm cold and I'm wet and I didn't know where else to go," she rambles all in one breath making Calum laugh.

"You were at the beach," he states, “get in here,” moving to let her in, and she nods while getting into the house and she tries not to get water everywhere while following him to his room.

"Here," he hands her a towel, and she wraps it around her shoulder, too cold to try and dry herself. "What happened?" He asks while she stands in the middle of his bedroom, now unsure of what to do.

"I didn't notice the weather changing," she holds the towel closer, teeth chattering, and he walks to his dresser.

"No, why were you alone at the beach distracted enough not to notice the rain?" He asks, turning back to her, handing her a black piece of cloth, making her frown at him. "Dry yourself and we can talk without you breaking your teeth," he jokes and steps out of the room to give her privacy.

She stares at his closed door for a second before shaking her head and looking at the fabric in her hand, a plain long-sleeved black shirt. She dries herself as best as she can, before pulling his shirt over her head.

She looks around the room, confusion spinning in her head for a second, before walking out of the room to look for Calum, finding him sitting in the kitchen.

"Thanks," she stops by the door while grabbing the ends of the long sleeves and closing them in her hands, trying to keep in as much heat as she could, "for the shirt," she says when he turns to look at her.

"Can't let you freeze," he shrugs and she smiles at him swinging her arms around her while stepping into the kitchen.

"Are you alone?" She asks, looking around the room.

"Yep," he says, popping the p, and she stops.

"You sure it's okay for me to be here?"

"No, I should totally throw you back out in the rain," he teases, voice heavy with sarcasm, and she rolls her eyes, closing the distance to the chair beside him, leaning into the back of it.

There's a moment of silence where he's looking at her with a soft expression on his face, and she doesn't know what to do with herself.

"I just didn't want to be home," she blurts out, and he tilts his head, face puzzled. "You asked why I was at the beach," she states, and he shakes his head.

"No, I asked why you were distracted on the beach," he corrects, and she shrugs.

"Same difference."

"Is it?"

"I just lost track of time, I guess. I like being there. It’s calming."

"Is this why you like being there so much? ‘Cause it's calming?" He asks, looking intently at her.

"I'm not really calm in most places y' know?" She tells him after a beat.

"Not really," he chuckles.

She pulls the chair back, moving around it to sit facing him.

"It's just that, most of the time, I'm way too conscious about everything around me, so when I find a place that makes me stop feeling like that, I tend to forget about anything else." She pulls her feet up to sit with her legs crossed, leaning forward to prop her chin in her hands, "so on a bad day I run to the beach," she thinks for a second, "that if M is not available," she chuckles and Calum is looking at her, trying to understand it, and a small part of her wonders why she’s so comfortable around him.

"That sounds stressful."

"Maybe? Most days I barely notice it. Some days I don't notice it at all, some days are hell though," she frowns and shakes her hand to move the sleeves up so she could use her hands, "I don't know, does it make sense?"

"Not at all," he says, shaking his head.

"Well, it doesn't make much sense for me either," she tucks her hair behind her ear, "like, if I'm in class or something, I'm really conscious of everything, but if I'm at M's place and we are playing something, I'm not."

"Are you stressed now?" He leans forward a bit, his gaze so intense Emma feels like he can see her thoughts. That alone should've been enough to make her freak out, but when she looks back at him, she's as calm as she possibly could.

"Not really," she shakes her head.

"Good, come here," Calum says, standing up, taking her hand, and pulling her with him.

He walks them back to his room, still holding her hand, only letting go to sit down. She sits on his bed, kicking her shoes off and sliding into the bed while he fumbles around with his computer.

She laughs when Avatar The Last Airbender starts and raises an eyebrow at him when he turns around.

"What? It's good," he replies, standing up, "I was watching it before you got here. Now make room for me," he adds, making her roll her eyes while moving, crossing her legs, and leaning against the headboard. He settles beside her when the recap ends, and a clap of thunder makes her jump.

"God, I hate storms," she whimpers and unconsciously leans closer to him.

The episode is barely in the middle, Emma's head leaning on Calum's shoulder, when there's a flash, another thunder shaking through the house, and all the lights go out, leaving them in the dark.

"I fucking hate storms," she grunts again, burying her face in his shoulder and making him laugh. "What?" She asks, lifting her head.

"Nothing, I just don't think I've ever heard you swear before," he replies, making her groan and fight the urge to roll her eyes even though he can't see it.

“Really? Me saying fuck is funny? How old are you? Ten?” She frowns, leaning back to the headboard.

“Yeah, something like that,” he replies with a chuckle and she laughs.

“You want me to say fuck more often? For you to get used to it?” She jokes, watching his silhouette become clearer as her eyes get used to the dark.

“No, you’re too cute for me to get used to it.”

“Cute? Sure, I’ll take it,” she chuckles, and he gets up searching for something.

She watches, trying to see what he was doing until a song she didn't know starts playing on his phone.

"Come on, get up," he says, holding his hand out to Emma, who just looked up at him, confusion on her face.

"What? Why?" she asks, not moving, frowning at him suspiciously.

"I just want to try something," he takes her hands, and she lets him pull her to her feet.

She watches as he takes her left hand and puts it on his shoulder before doing the same with her right.

"Cal, what are you doing?"

“Can you just trust me, love?” He leads, making them move from side to side, and she chokes out a laugh. But she lets him move them, awkwardly dancing until it’s not awkward at all.

He moves a piece of her hair away from her face, and she feels her face heat up as his hand lingers on her cheek, and for a moment she's thankful there's not enough light around them, so he couldn’t see her blushing. She can barely make out his features in the low light, so she doesn't know if she is imagining the intensity in his gaze.

They stop moving, and Emma can feel her heart hammering in her chest. She wonders what's going through his mind, and she thinks he's leaning in when her phone starts ringing and the lights come back on, making them jump away from each other.

She clears her throat and shakes her head, moving to pick up her phone from the table while Calum scratches the back of his neck and starts looking at everything in the room but her.

"Hi, dad," she answers, sounding a little baffled before she can put her thoughts in order, "no, I'm not in the rain, I'm at Calum's," she pauses, listening, "you know, dark hair in the band with M? You drove us here the other day. Yeah, yeah, near the beach," she pauses again. "Okay, see you in a bit." She hangs up and puts the phone in her back pocket, turning to Calum, "he's already coming to pick me up," she motions to her back, "maybe I should wait outside, he said he's close," he only nods at her, whatever was happening before is clearly gone now, "okay." She mumbles fidgeting with the ends of her sleeves, before putting her shoes back on. "I'll give you your shirt back next time I see you," she says, even though she still hasn’t returned his hoodie, and moves out of the room with Calum following her.

"Yeah, don't worry about it, love," he says from behind her.

"Thank you," she murmurs when they reach the door, and she hears her father honking. Calum opens the door, and in a moment of boldness, Emma stands on her tiptoes, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "See ya, Cal," she says, rushing to her father’s car, leaving the boy standing there.

He's still watching when the car turns, and she can no longer see him in the rearview mirror.

______

Emma jumps when her phone rings on the counter, making her almost drop the tray she's about to set next to it. She puts the tray down before checking the phone.

From Cal: are u home?

She blinks a couple of times before responding, still startled.

To Cal: yeah…

To Cal: why?

From Cal: I think im early for rehearsal.

She laughs and makes her way through the house, stepping out to the porch and seeing Calum sitting on the sidewalk.

"Hey!" She calls for him, and when he turns around, she waves him over before buzzing the gate open.

"Hi, love," he greets her.

"Hey," she motions for him to follow her inside.

"I've never been in your house," Calum says, looking around.

"Really?" She frowns at him.

"Yeah. I wanna see your room," he states, and she laughs, leading him to it.

She learns against her wardrobe as he studies the room. His attention is drawn to her bed or the wall behind it.

"We have more pictures together than I thought," he says, getting closer to the pictures she has been taping there for a while now. Michael is the person with more appearances even if they never planned a lot of them. "This is cool," he adds without turning around.

"Yeah, I like pictures. And they make the room feel more, mine, I guess." She moves to sit in the bed, watching him when he points to a picture of the two of them. Her favorite. Not that she had really stopped to think about it. One where they're on the beach and she's sitting between his legs, back to his chest, head on the arm he’s resting on his knee looking up to his face, and Calum looks really concentrated on whatever she was telling him at the moment.

"I don’t think I’ve seen this one."

"Oh, M took it and sent it to me," she shrugs, “I thought you saw it too.”

“No,” he says, distracted, turning to look around.

There's an awkward pause, and she catches herself staring at him as he moves, his gaze going to the other side of the room.

"You have a guitar?" He points to the acoustic guitar she has set in a corner, sounding surprised.

"It was my dad's. He said I could have it if I learned how to play it. I never did, though, not really, anyway," she explains, but his attention had already shifted to her keyboard.

"You play that?" He asks, sounding impressed as he moves towards it, making her laugh.

"Yep," she tells him, getting up from the bed when he sits on the bench near it. He looks back when she comes to stand behind him, looking a little in awe.

"You're kidding," he says, and she shakes her head, "no way, how did I not know that?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, "you never asked, I never told you."

"We're friends 'cause of a band and the subject of you playing something never came up?" He turns, and she shakes her head. "Okay, any other talents I need to know?" He adds, making her laugh.

"I bake?" She tells him, sounding more like a question, and he looks a little surprised.

"You bake?" She nods, and he frowns, "you?"

"Yeah, me."

"That's something that should've been mentioned at some point," he exclaims, making her laugh.

"I didn't feel like having to feed you all," she jokes and he opens his mouth and closes it again, thinking of a comeback.

"You know what? That's fair."

"I was taking some brownies out of the oven when you texted me."

“Really?” His eyes light up and she laughs.

“Come on,” she says, motioning for him to follow her and going back to the kitchen, with Calum in her heels.

Emma fumbles through the drawers, looking for a knife when she hears his cursing and starts laughing.

“I meant it when I said they had just come out of the oven,” she says, turning to him and seeing him pouting slightly, her heart skipping a beat as she registers how cute he looks. She shakes her head, moving to the counter, “just sit down, and prepare to be amazed,” she laughs and he gives her an impressed look.

“Okay,” he replies, sitting on the stool by her side while she cuts the brownie into squares.

“Here,” she pushes the plate towards him, before sitting and looking at him expectantly.

He takes a bite and lets out a pleased groan that makes a grin show on her face.

“You’re my new favorite person,” he says and she starts giggling, “please marry me.”

“You’re that easy?” She asks, trying to keep a straight face before breaking down laughing.

“Yes,” he tells her, laughing too.

“All I have to do is supply you with brownies?”

“Yes, the only string attached.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she giggles, taking a piece for herself, “I think M is home,” Emma says, as a muffled guitar starts to play. She gets up and takes the plate with the brownies, and Calum follows her when she remembers something. “Wait,” she hands him the plate and runs to her room.

“I keep forgetting to give this back to you,” she says when she comes back, and he's still standing where she left him with a confused but amused frown, handing him the hoodie he lent her that day on the beach. “The shirt is washing, though, so you’re gonna have to wait,” she adds.

“It’s fine, love, don’t worry,” she smiles and takes the plate from him.

“Let’s go then.”

_______ If you wanna get tagged, please feel free to message me.

#5sos fic #calum hood fic #i dont know how to tag fics #so yeah #mywriting #catch22 #calum hood fanfic #calum hood x oc #5 seconds of summer fanfic #if this gets literally any interaction im posting part 2 tomorrow soasokas #im doing it folks #also shoutout to my best friend #he wont see this but he was pivotal in me writing this cuz he remembers how shit went down better than i do and he has some great insights #i just wanna add this somewhere

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myown-worstenemy-2003 · 1 year

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Marry Me? (Calum Hood)

A/N: Hey guys! This is out of the usual fandom that I write for but another one of my favorite fandoms! This was written for one of my best friends who loves him! (I do too, not gonna lie but I'm a Michael girl.) Anyway! I hope you enjoy it! (Also don't make fun of me, this is my first time writing for nonfictional people. Have mercy on my soul.) PS: Please don't copy my work because I worked hard on this and I will literally cry! Thank you! :) <3

Summary: Based on the song "Marry Me" by Thomas Rhett

Word Count: 1621

Everything was beautiful. Makayla was going to get the wedding that she had always dreamed of having. A beautiful garden, colors everywhere from the flowers. Not too many people to save her aunts and uncles some money.

I’m in my black suit and tie, out in the back of the garden where no one can see me. I pull a flask out of my suit pocket and do a shot quick shot of whiskey to calm my nerves. I smile just thinking about meeting her up there. I hope I make it through without crying so nobody sees.

Because she doesn’t want to marry me.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I shake my head as I look out of the windshield of my car, “Snap out of it Cal.”

I just got home from our world tour, and I love going on tour and seeing our fans, but I miss being at home with family and friends. I walk into my house and drop my stuff at the door and just crash on the couch face-first for a nap. When I get attacked by Duke with kisses.

“Duke!” I said, excitedly petting him, rolling over onto my back, and laughing as he said his hellos.

“I missed you too Duke,” I chuckled, he got up and ran off to get his toys. As he was running off, I sat here thinking about the day that I got Duke.

Makayla and I had just been browsing the pet shelters after she had insisted that I needed a buddy for when she wasn’t able to stay over at my house. And I came home with a little puppy named Duke. We were sitting on the couch in the same position that I was right now. We were both watching Duke play around until I just focused on her because of how beautiful she looked. She turned around with a smile on her face to say something but stopped. In my mind, I was going to lean in and kiss her and it was going to be perfect but then I thought, what if she doesn’t like me that way? What if I do it and it ruins our friendship?

“Cal?” Makayla said, bring me out of my freak-out session.

“Yeah?” I said, “What’s up?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah! I’m good!” I said nodding my head, “Just thinking about dinner, you hungry?”

I stand up from the couch and walk over to the counter to the pile of mail. I go through it and see nothing important other than bills. Putting those back on the counter to deal with later, I get myself a snack from the cabinet and lean on the counter eating Cheez-Its. I always wondered if she feels the same way from the way she looked at me that day, but I never found the right time to ask her. Then it was too late to ask her, I didn’t want to ruin anything if she didn’t.

I’m still snacking when I see something on the coffee table that I didn’t see early. I put the box down and walk over to the coffee table. As I get closer, it’s an envelope with Calum Hood written on it in familiar handwriting. I pick it up and open it.

“Oh, my God.”

I knew this day was coming but I didn’t know it was already coming. Inside the envelope was an invitation from Makayla and her fiance to their wedding which was less than a month away.

“Oh, my God,” I said again.

My phone ringing startled me right out of my trance of staring at the fancy paper that was giving the worse news that I had heard in my life. Still looking at the invitation I pull my phone out of my front pocket and answer it, “Hello?”

“Hey Cal! Welcome home!” the sweetest voice comes through.

“Makayla! Hey! How’s it going?” I answer back, smiling on instinct.

“I’m great! I haven’t heard your voice in so long. I missed you, Cal,” she tried to sound happy but there was a hint of sadness in her voice.

“I missed you too Mak. I miss your pretty face!”

“Aw, you make me blush! Enough with the sadness! How was the tour?”

“It was awesome! We went to a lot of different places than before. And then the places we've been before are always fun to go back to as well.”

“Aw, it sounds like you had a blast, Cal!” she says happily.

“Enough about the tour! When did you guys set the date for the wedding?” I ask her, trying to be excited.

“Oh, I tried to call you and tell you a few times but you were always performing or asleep so after a few times of not answering, I just let you find it when you got home from the tour. Since there was plenty of time for you to get prepared.”

I sit there for a minute, taking it all in. She’s going to get married. I always thought it was going to be to me. Hell, even our own friends thought Makayla and I were going to get married. But she’s not going to.

“Cal? Hey is everything okay? Cal?” she asks, worriedly.

I shake myself out of it, “Yeah! Yeah! I’m fine! I’m just thinking about all of the things I have to do before you get married! I mean what’s the man of honor going to with only a month left to plan the bachelorette party?”

Makayla giggles, “Well, you and Kelly better get to work on it because it is coming up fast.”

“Yeah, it is,” I say with a sigh.

“Anway, I bet you’re tired from the flight. I’m gonna let you get some sleep. Goodnight rockstar,” she says.

“Goodnight,” I say back and listen until the line goes silent. I lean back on the couch, “Fuck.”

I’m too late.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A month later, it’s everything that Makayla has ever told me about when she talked about wanting to get married. It is at a beautiful garden that she told me about from a vacation that she went to when she was younger. She wasn’t exaggerating when she said that it was beautiful. There are flowers and greenery everywhere, along with statues and fountains. The arch where they were going to get married under was covered in red, pink, and white roses.

I'm standing in the back listening to the three people in the seats talk about how beautiful it was, saying that Makayla was going to look beautiful. I watched as Makayla’s bridesmaids were making sure everything was perfect. One was fixing flowers as she walked by, and another was talking to the groomsmen. Piper tripped as she walked by which led to her taking off her heels. Kelly, her maid-of-honor, was currently talking to their Aunt Rachel and Aunt Jenn. I know they’ve been dreading this day. But they aren’t the only ones giving her away.

I walk away to look around and clear my head for a second.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A few minutes later, I’m back hiding out in the back. Everyone was getting prepared to walk down the aisle and then Makayla. I can just imagine her in her dress welcoming the guests. I just know that she looks so beautiful that it hurts my heart that I can’t be with her. I look around looking for her. Maybe I can find her, get it off my chest. I walk around to the front where she might be welcoming the guests, I get in the short line to tell her how I feel. I wait and I wait. I talk myself up the whole time.

You can do it. You are going to tell her you love her and have since forever.

When I was next after someone, I watch her. She is happy. She’s laughing and talking with her family and friends.

“Cal!” she says happily and hugs me.

Alright, this is your chance. Tell her how you feel.

“Makayla, I-” I start.

“What’s wrong?”

I can’t mess this up for her. She’s happy.

“I wish you all the best. You look beautiful.”

She smiles a little, “Thank you, Calum.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

So here I am, standing out in the back. In my black suit and tie. Taking a strong shot of whiskey. I hope I can make it through without crying.

I feel a tap on my shoulder, I look over and see Piper, “What’s up?”

“Makayla is asking for you real quick,” she says, trying to hide a smile on her face.

“Is everything okay?” I ask, following her to where Makayla is, trying not to panic.

Piper opens the door and I walk in.

“Calum,” Makayla says looking up from where she’s sitting. I hear the door close softly behind me.

“Makayla,” I say coming up to her, “Is everything okay? Do you need something?”

“Cal. Give me one good reason not to do this,” she says in the most serious tone that I’ve ever seen her.

I stand there for a second and she’s about to say something when I walk up to her, put my hand on her face and softly kiss her lips. She kisses me back wrapping her arms around my neck. I’ve been waiting for this moment for years.

The door opens, “Mak, 2 minut- oh. Okay,” someone says. We break apart breathless. There stands Kelly in the doorway, Piper and the bridesmaids peeking in, “So, should I send everyone to the reception hall?”

“That is a great idea Kelly,” Makayla says and Kelly sends her thumbs up as she closes the door.

“So where were we?” she asks me. I laugh and lean down to kiss her again.

#calum hood #calum hood x oc #5sos #5 seconds of summer #5sos fanfic #calum 5sos #5sos fic

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fadedtogreyy · 7 months

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(moving my old fics from one blog to another)

“How come I always end up calling you when I can’t fall asleep?” Req by @soundsluke ❤️

“Can’t sleep?”

She ignored his question as she leaned against her pillow, smiling at the sound of his voice “What time is it there?”

“Hang on,” he replied followed by an odd rustling noise which told Charley he was using his phone to read the time “Two in the afternoon.”

“Hmm,” she answered hoping her pout was undetectable in her tone. She hated that her best friend was so far away from her while being so proud of him for living his dream at the same time. It was an odd pull in different directions and an uneasy feeling which she would never share with him “It’s eleven here. What’ve you been up to today?”

“Just some writing,” Calum replied and she could almost see his shrug as he stretched his arms above his head. There was noise in the background that was very clearly the other guys and her stomach squirmed when she was immediately taken back to times in Ashton’s basement when they would all write songs together “You should sleep Charl aren’t you in early in the morning?”

“I guess,” she grumbled in reply “Have a good rest of the day.”

“Have a good rest!”

She wished he wouldn’t be so cheery when he was saying goodbye.

*“Charlotte speaking!”

“Charlotte?”

Charley frowned as she leaned against the bar, phone to her ear while she juggled a few glasses needing to go into the dishwasher “Why are you calling my workplace Calum Hood?”

“Your phone was off.”

“I’m in work!” she replied with a laugh and an eyeroll “Oh my god the funniest thing ever happened before! So we were auditioning bands right-”

“I’m gunna come home.”

She paused, chewing on her bottom lip and twirling the phone cable through her fingers once she’d placed the glasses down on the bartop “You’re what?” she asked in confusion “Are you okay? Are you ill? Has something happened?” all the questions felt as though they were coming out of her mouth at once. Everytime she spoke to any of the other guys they were having the time of their lives, working hard and having the best experiences.

There was a silence on the other end of the line for a few minutes before Calum took in a deep breath and spoke again “I just need to. I’m not…this isn’t…and now you’re hiring a new band for the bar?”

“Did the line just break up slightly or are you holding back on me Hood?” she asked handling her worry in the only way she knew how; with humour.

“I just miss you.”

“Can’t sleep huh?” she asked quickly doing the calculation to see that it was one in the morning over in the UK “I miss you too Cal. Mali misses you. Your mum misses you. The bar misses you. But you’re having literally the best time in the whole world, you’re living the dream! The only thing overshadowing how much we all miss you is how much we’re so so proud of you.”

He sighed loudly (or was it a yawn?) before he spoke again “It’s just so…different.”

“You just need to sleep Cal,” she said knowing how he could get when he hadn’t gotten enough rest. He withdrew, he overthought and none of that was good when she wasn’t around to give him a hug or slap some sense into him “Stay rested, stay hydrated, eat well and make more awesome songs! I’ll come and see you soon and I want you in the best mood possible when I do.”

“You promise?”

She pursed her lips, not really knowing if it was doable or not “I promise.”

“Thanks Charley Bear. I mean it. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Though she usually wished more than anything that she could see him she was glad they weren’t on facetime in that moment as a blush, oddly, scattered across her cheekbones “Well luckily for you you don’t have to worry about that mate!” she exclaimed running her fingers through her hair before she pinched the bridge of her nose “Now go to sleep Cal it sounds like you need it.”

“Um hmm,” he answered, the sound of him shuffling around in his bunk following his words “G'night Charl.”

“Hey Cal! Your phone is ringing!” Luke called across the studio as he plucked Calum’s iPhone from where he’d thrown it on the couch earlier in the day “Who’s ringing you at eleven in the morning and why is their name just a bear emoji and a heart emoji?”

Frowning in confusion Calum practically dived off of the chair he was sat on with his bass in his lap, placing his instrument leaning against the couch he snatched his phone from Luke’s grasp “Hello?” he answered quickly as he made to leave the room. If it was eleven on a Monday morning in LA that meant is was four o'clock on a Tuesday morning back in Sydney.

“Wheyyy! Here he iiiiiiis!”

Sitting down on one of the chairs outside of the studio he pulled his packet of cigarettes out of his pocket “Are you drunk on a Monday night Charley?” he asked as he placed one between his lips and reached for his lighter.

“Tech - hic - technically it’s Tuesday morning,” she answered with a giggle “Are you soooo lost in your different time zones you’ve forgotten - hic - where you come from? Where even are you right now?”

A cloud of smoke escaped his lips as he chuckled and shook his head “LA. We spoke about this yesterday Charl.”

“Right. Yes of co-ouch!”

“Are you okay?” he asked quickly as he sat up properly in his chair, his brow furrowed in concern as he took another drag from his cigarette “Charley? What happened?”

“Oh no-hic-thing!” she waved off “I just…I tripped over something I’m all good.”

“I should never have left you to your own devices,” he laughed picturing her stumbling around her flat as she attempted to make herself something to eat “Don’t cook when you’re in this state okay? You’ll burn your building down.”

“You have so much faith in me,” she answered with a eyeroll he could just see as he listened to her speak “I’m not cooking I promise. I’m sat on my bathroom floor trying not to throw up.”

“Attractive.”

She snorted a laugh, leaning her head back against the wall of her bathroom as it fell into a whiney sigh “How come I always end up calling you when I can’t fall asleep?”

“You don’t always-”

“I do,” she interrupted “Sometimes I just get through to your voicemail, others I ring your Aus number when you’re in the UK or your UK number when you’re in LA, but I do. It helps me because I haven’t been sleeping well recently and I don’t…I don’t know why or how or what’s going on in my brain but hearing your voice helps me sleep.”

Calum let out an awkward cough to clear his throat as he shuffled in his seat “Is that because I bore you so much you just drop off?” he asked with a nervous laugh.

“No,” she answered with a dreamy sigh “Calum just, he calms me down y'know? Which is interesting because his name is basically calm with an added u.”

“Charley you do know-”

“I mean I miss Ash of course I miss Ash he was a big part of my life for like a million years and we kissed a few times before he left but Calum? He’s different. He…I miss him in a different kind of way.”

He didn’t have a clue what to do or say. Charley had never spoken in such a way to him before and he didn’t have the faintest idea of how to handle it “I, um, I mean…” he winced as the words came out in a stuttered mess. Ever since he’d left her, ever since he’d watched Ashton rush back to kiss her in front of everyone only to distance himself from her once they were on the road he had found himself in an odd stage of feelings, feelings he’d never felt before…especially for his best friend “What’s happening then? With you and this Calum?”

“Psh,” she scoffed (he panicked for a second thinking she was about to throw up) “I can’t like Calum. I can’t. I don’t. He…he’d freak out and I can’t handle not having him to call when I can’t sleep,” she explained with a yawn, the squeak of springs telling him she had thrown herself onto her bed “Hmm. Sleep.”

“Go…you go to sleep Charley you need it,” he said sitting with his elbow on the table and his hand over his eyes “Ring me when you wake up though so I know you’re okay.”

“Hmm I will,” she mumbled, her voice muffled making him think she was face planted against the pillow “Pr-hic-omise.”

“And make sure you drink some water!” he exclaimed quickly, swearing beneath his breath when all he was answered with was the heavy breathing of Charley falling asleep “Goodnight Charley.”

“Hiii it’s Charley! I’m too busy to take your call right now but leave me a message after the tone thanks!”

#5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #Calum Hood fanfiction #Calum Hood x oc #Charley Walker #fic: Wasting Time

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calpalirwin · 10 months

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Ice Breaker

Summary: Thea had her reasoning as to why she didn’t like hockey players. Until Calum makes her re-evaluate her opinion.

Word Count: 6.1k

And away, and away we go!

Thea didn’t mind the frigid air of the ice skating rink. What she did mind was the group of hockey players already on the bleachers, their gear scattered around as they laced up.

Thea hated hockey season. She hated how their brutish nature of yelling and slamming into each other was a constant cause of distraction. Hated the smell of sweat that always clung to their gear and their bodies, as if they had no idea how to operate a washing machine or a shower. And she hated their sense of entitlement. Not to the rink— no, that was rightfully theirs— but their sense of entitlement to her. As if she was there merely for their sake and desires.

Coach Anderson had always held a zero tolerance for disrespect or harassment, to the point of banning players from his team. But even the strictest of policies hadn’t been enough to deter the most determined.

She kept her face neutral of any contempt or disdain as she staked her claim at the bottom of the bleachers.

“Excuse me, miss?” one of the men called out to her. “Were you planning on using the rink?”

Thea clicked her tongue in her cheek as she looked over at the man. Dark brown curls, wild and loose framed his face, and equally dark brown eyes studied her closely. His black jersey lay slung over his broad shoulders. “No,” she smiled sweetly at him. “I just came to the ice rink with a bag of gear to sit here for three hours.”

The man laughed. “Real funny, princess. But I got the schedule from the coach right here in my bag. And I hate to break it to you, but this is our practice time for the next eight months.”

“Four months,” Thea corrected. “Your season is four months.”

“For the regular season. But we’re in training for the first two months. Then the actual season. And then playoffs which are an extra two months. And that, princess, is how to count to eight,” the man clarified.

“So I’ll be rid of you in six,” she grinned. “I shall count the days!”

The man laughed again. “Tell you what, princess. Since you’re already here, and we would hate to see you freeze waiting on us, I’ll talk to the coach, and see if we can’t work something out for today.”

“Or I can talk to the coach myself. See if I can’t work something out for today. Wouldn’t want you boys to freeze or anything.” Her voice was rich with sweet sarcasm.

The man scoffed, sweeping a large hand in the direction of the hallway that led to the offices. “Be my guest, princess. Fair warning through, Coach Anderson can be a bit of a hardass.”

“Ooo, I’d be careful how you refer to your coach,” Thea winced.

“As would I,” Coach Anderson said as he walked into view, his co and assistant coaches a step behind. “Thea, sweetheart, how are you?” he asked with a warmth that had his team looking at each other in surprise.

“I’m good,” she smiled, giving the coach a hug hello. “Although there appears to be an issue with your scheduling. You double booked yourself.”

Coach Anderson pinched the bridge of his nose. “Shit. I always want to think you end at three, not start at three.”

“You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you do this on purpose as a chance to see me.”

“I don’t do it on purpose,” Coach Anderson said with a laugh. “I’ll look everything over and find a work around. As for today… Peter, let’s get set up on half the rink. We’ll let Thea use the other half.”

Peter Steele, the assistant coach nodded once before jogging off.

Coach Anderson clapped his hands together. “Alright! Thea, have you met the team?”

“Briefly,” she said, her eyes sweeping over the twelve men who sat on the bleachers, still watching the interaction between the head coach and the figure skater with both intrigue and shock.

“Thea, this is the team. First line I have Hood, Irwin, and Hemmings as my forwards. Fleming and DeLuca are the defensemen. And then Clifford’s goalie.”

Each man waved a hand in greeting, first the dark haired man whom she had spoken with, a man with light brown curls, two blondes, another brunette, and another blonde.

Coach Anderson then prattled off the names of his second line, but Thea kept her focus on Hood and the arrogance that radiated off him as he stared blankly back at her. “And I’m still working on a practice schedule for the third and fourth lines. Gentlemen, this is Thea Anderson, my daughter.”

Eleven men coughed uncomfortably. The twelfth— Hood— only widened his eyes, the only indication he gave of the news shocking him. “I apologize for the overlap of schedules and will work on getting that fixed. However, I think we’ve wasted enough time, so let’s get to it.”

Thea paid them no mind as they all headed out on the ice. As she readied herself, she let the sounds of the sticks hitting ice, the yells and grunts of the players, and the shouted commands and whistles of the coaches all fade to a nonexistent hum.

By the time her skates were laced and she made her way to the ice, her focus was solely on her own movements: each push off, jump, spin, and landing. Flawless and graceful execution. No room for error.

For the twelve hockey players and three coaches, playing with only half a rink was a challenge, given the less than ideal space. Cramped, but not impossibly so.

Hood, in a state of hypervigilance, saw how Thea pushed herself into a backwards skate with her right foot. He also saw the left defender shoot the puck, the trajectory destined to cross the figure skater’s path. Hood rushed towards it.

Thea noticed the black blur of the puck hurtling towards that red center line, saw its trajectory same as Hood, and adjusted, jumping as Hood continued to race towards her to stop the puck.

Thea completed her spin as Hood slid to a halt, his skates showering her in sparks of shaved ice, and he sent the puck flying across the rink towards his left forward. Breathless, and a little pleased he’d managed to pull that off without colliding with Thea or even crossing the center line, he shot a grin at her. “Pretty jump there, princess,” he complimented.

She scoffed at him, brushing the shards of ice off her skirt. “And I suppose I should thank you for saving me from nothing?”

“That puck would have tripped you if I hadn’t stopped it,” he pointed out.

“No it wouldn't because unlike you, I’m aware of my space.”

Hood glanced down at the red center line, the toe of his skate right along the edge on his side. “As am I,” he said smugly.

“You’re a brute,” she hissed.

“If it so pleases, Your Highness,” he grinned like the fool he was, before he sketched a bow that even Thea had to admit was rather graceful despite his size and gear.

“Hood!” Coach Anderson barked with a sharp look at both his player and his daughter.

Hood pushed himself backward, still bowing. Thea scowled at the theatrics, at the smug look on his face, as he skated away and turned his attention back on his teammates and that infernal black puck.

~~~

The following day when Thea walked into the arena, the men that made up her father’s team were already out on the ice.

She scowled as she stalked over to the bleachers and laced up. If Coach Anderson was so insistent on sharing the ice, then he could have the burden of making sure his players stayed out of her way.

“Thea, sweetheart!” her father greeted, skating towards the edge of the rink closest to her.

“I thought you fixed the schedule.”

“I did!” the man beamed. “We have…” he glanced over at the clock on the wall, “a half hour left. They’re gonna start their cool down exercises so we won’t have any pucks flying around. It was the best solution I could come up with.”

“Mmm, how thoughtful…”

“Thea…” Coach Anderson said in a low warning.

“It’s not you I have the problem with, Dad. It’s them,” she clarified with a pointed glance at the team.

“They haven’t done anything to you, have they?��

“Not them specifically.”

Coach Anderson’s jaw tightened. “I traded that entire part of the roster, and made it very clear to this team that I won’t tolerate any indication of disrespect or harassment.”

“I know. And I hope you know I appreciate the lengths you have gone through for my sake. But they view kindness as a weakness, so it’s easier if I’m a bitch from the start.”

Coach Anderson rested a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Your kindness is your greatest strength, don’t let anybody make you feel that it’s not.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Of course. Now, feel like showing these men what you’re capable of?”

“Suicides? Let them think they have a chance, at least?”

The father and daughter shared a grin, as Coach Anderson blew his whistle. “Line up!” was the barked command.

The twelve men scurried to line up along one of the goal lines waiting for the next order. They kept their focus straight ahead even as Thea joined them in the line up. “Alright, gentlemen. We had a good practice, so I’m gonna give you the opportunity to earn a little reward here. One suicide across the rink.”

The men blinked in confusion. “That’s all, Coach?” one of them asked.

“That’s all,” Coach Anderson nodded. “One suicide stands between you and an early end to practice. However, if Thea finishes before you, you all will be doing suicides until practice officially ends.”

One of the players raised their hand.

“Yes, Hood?”

“To clarify, does place matter? So as long as Thea doesn’t finish first, we win? Or does she have to finish thirteenth for us to win?”

“You’re a team, Hood. If one member finishes before Thea, you all win. That’s what? A ninety-two percent chance at success? Sounds more than fair, right?”

“Yes Coach!” was the uniform response.

“Full rink. On my mark. Ready. Set.” Coach Anderson blew the whistle.

The players were quick to fly back and forth across the ice, gaining the lead early. Thea skated towards the end of the pack, pacing herself, playing the long game.

By the center line, the players started to fall on the return, as Thea made her way to the middle of the pack, still keeping a comfortable pace.

The men ahead of her pushed themselves harder to keep their lead as they skated for the goal line.

“Dig deep!” was the encouraged shout from the coaches as they hit the goal line, and skated back across the rink.

Thea passed more of them as they reached the second blue line. And as she headed out for the last round of goal line to goal line, only Hemmings, Hood, and Irwin were ahead of her.

Despite their longer strides, Thea passed Hemmings by the center line, and then Irwin as she hit the goal line. Hood was only a few feet away, passing the blue line.

All that lay between Hood and victory was a clean shot across the rink. He had a small but decent lead, and a longer stride.

Thea lengthened her own stride, feeling the stretch in her leg muscles. By the center line she was half a step behind.

Hood grit his teeth, and put as much speed in his strides as he could, already having maxed out how far he could extend his legs between each stride.

The toes of their skate hit the final goal line at the same time.

Thea nodded at Hood, conceding graciously. She opened her mouth to extend her congratulations, but Coach Anderson spoke up first. “Good effort, but not quite good enough. Line up!”

“Coach,” Hood replied, his voice coming out as heavy as his breathing. “With all due respect, you said Thea had to finish first. She didn’t. We both did.”

Coach Anderson’s eyes darkened, ready to tear his player apart for daring to question orders.

“Dad,” Thea interjected. “He’s right. You were very clear that I had to make it to the line first. And I didn’t. So unless Hood is up for a tie-breaker, your team’s free to go.”

“What kind of tie breaker do you have in mind?” Hood asked, intrigued.

“3 laps around the rink. If we tie, you lose. If I win, you lose.”

“You got yourself a deal,” Hood agreed, offering her his hand.

She shook it, sealing the bet.

“Take your marks then,” Coach Anderson relented. “But, Hood, if Thea wins, I’m adding an extra 5 minutes for your impertinence.”

“Understood, Coach.” Then he focused those intense brown eyes on Thea. “Am I allowed to shed some gear to make the odds more even?”

“You could skate in your underwear for all I care, Hood. I could even skate backwards and blindfolded, you’re still going to lose.”

“That’s a bold statement. Hope you can back it up,” he told her as he shucked his helmet, gloves, and jersey, discarding them on the lip of the wall surrounding the rink. “And it’s Calum.”

“I didn’t ask.”

When Coach Anderson blew the whistle, Calum skated like his life depended on it. Not only did he want to prove her words wrong, he wanted to pull through for his team. Ten minutes of suicides— fifteen in Calum’s case— would be an excruciating end to practice. Then there was the scathing lecture the team would receive about their lack of discipline for failure, and the personal one-on-one reaming Calum would get afterward for his attitude.

But a victory… A victory might earn him only a stern reminder at most. And the gratitude of his team.

While Calum had more reasons to win than he could count, Thea had zero. It didn’t matter to her whether or not she won. No threat of punishment loomed over her head as she and Calum raced around the rink. Just the pride that came with putting hockey players in their place. To show that she was a force to be reckoned with in her own right.

Every part of Calum was on fire as he fought to at least keep pace with Thea as they entered the final lap. Calum raced down the straightaway letting his speed carry him through the turn, using the chance to catch his breath, determined to hit the last straightaway with everything he had. His lungs burned. Sweat trickled down his spine. Even though a tie would mean he lost, it was still better than a complete blow out.

Thea pulled ahead as they hit the last turn, and he mentally braced for the inevitable defeat. But as she came out of the turn, Thea slowed. At first Calum assumed it was so she could stop just over the line, and she had somehow misjudged the distance as he went past her, crossing first. But the soft smile she flashed his way told him that she had let him win. But what for? “Good race,” she continued to smile, offering out her hand.

He didn’t dare question her reasoning for throwing the race in his favor now. He engulfed her hand in his larger one. “Good race.”

“Alright,” Coach Anderson said, a slight edge of confusion in his tone. “Hit the showers and I’ll see you all tomorrow. Hood, hang back a second, please.”

Calum squared his shoulders. While he knew he should consider himself lucky, and was indeed grateful to Thea for saving him and his team a grueling five extra minutes of practice, he hoped whatever Coach Anderson wanted to discuss didn’t include being benched to curb Hood’s impertinence. “Yes, Coach?” he replied once the rest of the team made their swift exit towards the locker rooms. None wanted to be privy to whatever hell Coach Anderson had planned.

Even Thea had managed to make herself disappear out of immediate earshot as she started to practice a series of jumps on the other side of the rink.

“Good effort out there today.”

“T-thank you, Coach,” Calum faltered over his words. This was so far from how he imagined this conversation happening.

“But if you ever have the boldness to act disrespectful in regards to me, the other coaches, or any of our judgments again, your time on this team will be incredibly short-lived.”

“Understood, Coach,” Calum nodded.

Coach Anderson clapped the younger man on the shoulder. “And at some point I would thank Thea. Rightfully so, she’s not overly friendly toward hockey players. And she wasn’t being overly confident about being able to outskate you blindfolded and backwards. I’ve seen her do it before. So the fact that she threw both races in your favor is beyond me. Now, hit the showers and get out of here.”

“Yes, Coach. And thank you.”

Calum wasted no time in heading for the locker room, in the event Coach Anderson changed his mind.

“Why did you let them win?” Coach Anderson asked as soon as Calum had left, and Thea skated back towards her father.

She skidded to a halt in front of the coach. “Same reason you let him off easy. Kindness is our greatest strength, isn’t it?”

Coach Anderson shook his head, chuckling lightly. “That it is. But I didn’t expect you to be so quick to set aside your reservations.”

“I’m not. I’m merely giving them a clean slate to work on. And there’s a fine line between being confident and being cocky,” she began to skate around the coach in a lazy loop as she elaborated further. “They’re confident. As they should be, they have all the markings of being great players. I assume you saw as much because they’re on your team. But I also know you don’t put players on your team solely because they’re good at hockey. I don’t know your team enough to pass my own judgment on them, so I’m trusting yours. I’m willing to see in them what you see in them, until proven otherwise.”

“I wonder who you learned such wisdom from.”

“Mom,” Thea laughed, jumping into a perfect spin. “Plus, your team was at a disadvantage. You had been running them ragged for who knows how long, whereas I just got here, fully energized. A few of them might have genuinely beaten me in the first run if it had been the beginning of their practice. If I want to win, I want it to be because I’m truly better.”

“Fair enough. So you think you can manage to share a half hour with them?”

“Yeah I think that’ll be fine,” she smiled.

Coach Anderson bid his daughter farewell, and Thea returned to running through her practice routine. The team slowly filtered out of the locker room, offering her a friendly wave or a shout of thanks on their way out the door. And while she acknowledged them in return, neither her nor the players engaged in further interaction. Not until Calum finally trudged out, his bag slung over one shoulder, and his skates slung over the other.

He dropped both of them at his feet, mindful to not damage his skates. Then he leaned against the wall of the rink dividing him from her. “You let me win. Why?”

“It wasn’t a fair match. You had already had your practice. I was just beginning mine.”

“All the more reason you should have mopped the floor with us. You had the upper hand, and you don’t like us. So to give up an easy win like that…”

“If I win, I want it to be because I’m truly better. Not because you’re already fatigued. And I never said I didn’t like you guys.”

“You didn’t have to. Your attitude towards us speaks for itself.”

“Not being fond of hockey players doesn’t equate to me outright disliking them.”

“Fair enough. I wouldn’t be fond of hockey players either. I’ve heard some of us are brutes.” He flashed her a knowing grin.

“As long as you’re aware you’re a brute,” she responded airly.

Calum laughed. “Well, I prefer to earn my victories too. So any time you want that rematch…”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to find each other.”

“See ya tomorrow, princess.”

“Rest up, brute.”

~~~

The next few weeks, Thea set aside her reservations as she utilized the hockey team’s cool down exercises as her own warm up.

She learned a lot about the team in daily half hour increments. Most of them had girlfriends. They all enjoyed a drink or two, except Ashton who was sober and more than happy to play designated driver. All twelve players that made up Coach Anderson’s first and second string had almost always played together on the same team, and as a result were all really decent friends, but the bond that the first string players had was a lot stronger than the bond the second string players shared.

In return, they tried to learn what they could about their honorary thirteenth, but Thea offered them as little information as she could. Opening herself up meant dealing with their questions, or worse. From what they were able to gather, they could reasonably assume that Thea practiced daily, but only worked with her coach during competition season, and that she was closest in age to Luke.

Usually, Calum hated how much his life was on display. Hated the unfair power dynamic it created with someone knowing so much while he knew so little in return. But with Thea, he found himself enthralled by it. He knew what he needed: that she was elegance and grace incarnated, and that she was more disciplined than any one he’d ever encountered before. As far as he was concerned, everything else was a matter of details. And he was certain that details would only enhance the big picture that was Thea Anderson, and he didn’t need to be more distracted by her presence than he already was.

As training came to a close in preparation for the opening season, Coach Anderson gathered his men at the end of one of the practices. “Gentlemen. Our first game of the season is tomorrow, so we won’t have practice. However, you need to be here at five. You don’t want to know what happens if you’re late. Is that understood?”

“Yes Coach!”

“Dismissed. Thea?”

“I’ll keep an eye on the time so I don’t conflict with your game, I know,” she told him.

“Thank you, but that’s not what I want to discuss.”

“Oh?”

“The team we’re playing tomorrow… As much as you are welcome to the rink for your practice, and as much as I would enjoy having you with us for our first game… Estrada is on the other team’s roster.”

Thea paled. “Oh…”

“So I understand if you need to be elsewhere.”

“No.” Thea shook her head and drew up her body as tall as she could. “No. He took enough. I won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking he took this away from me, too.”

Coach Anderson nodded once in understanding. They both knew Thea could face whatever bullshit Donovan Estrada threw her way. She’d done it once before.

~~~

The following afternoon, Thea was surprised at how off she felt as she began her practice. She chalked it up to nerves about potentially running into Donovan, but when Calum walked in fifteen minutes early, she was shocked to realize it wasn’t nerves about the game at all.

She had become used to starting her practice as they ended theirs. Used to their loud laughs coming out of the locker room, and their friendly waves goodbye. Used to their presence, Calum’s in particular. She swallowed the patheticness of it all.

He offered her a two fingered wave and a broad smile. “Hey! Glad to have the whole rink to yourself the whole time?” he asked, leaning his forearms against the wall.

“It’s so quiet,” she said, flashing him a wide grin.

Calum laughed, his head tilting back. “Aw! The princess misses the brutes!”

“Shut up,” she laughed with him, pink coloring her cheeks.

“You staying for the game?” he asked.

“Aw, the brute misses the princess, too!” she mocked. “I’m still undecided. Not the biggest fan of who you’re playing.”

“Oh yeah, some of ‘em used to play for your dad. Hmm… Damn, that’s something.”

“What?” she paused.

“Nothing,” he said with a small shake of his head. “Just wondering if it’s all connected. Must have been pretty bad if it is.”

She stiffened. “It’s none of your business, Hood.” The words came out colder and harsher than she had ever spoken to him before, even on that first meeting.

Calum raised his hands in surrender. “Not trying to make it my business. But I know it would mean a lot to the team if you could find the strength to stay. Hell, it would mean a lot to me.”

She would have teased him for that, and he knew she was about to based on how a slow smirk spread across her lips. But he was saved from the back and forth taunting as the rest of the team slowly started to trickle in. So Calum pounded his fists against the lip of the wall in two quick thuds. “Be real cool if you stayed,” he said before following his team towards the locker rooms.

Thea stayed frozen in place until Calum was out of her line of sight. She took a few deep cleansing breaths to steady her racing heart. She didn’t want to leave. She didn’t want to give Donovan the satisfaction of thinking he had ruined her safe haven. But Calum wasn’t stupid. He knew too much. And while she had zero plans to interact with Donovan, on the off chance she did and Calum witnessed it, he would be able to put all the pieces together. She wasn’t sure which reality was worse: one where Calum knew the truth about why Coach Anderson had a brand new team and judged her for it, or pitied her for it. And if he shared any of his suspicions with the rest of the team…

She shook her head. No. She was certain that Calum had been honest when he told her he wasn’t trying to make her business his business. She had to put her trust in that. In him.

In the end she decided to stay, setting herself up right behind the players’ bench on the home team’s side. And she felt sure she had made the right choice by the excited smiles that lit up the team’s faces when they all came out. “Glad you stayed,” Calum told her, his gloved hand resting on top of hers. A brief moment of warmth that would have been over as quickly as it happened if it hadn’t been for a harsh bark of laughter.

Calum’s head whipped to the source of the sound, noting how Thea’s hand stiffened under his. “Estrada,” she said coldly.

Donovan ignored her, his sneer focused full force on Calum. “I’d be careful getting close to this one. Her daddy might trade you, too.”

“You got traded because you’re as shitty a player as you are a man,” Thea spat, the tightness in her body that once was fearful panic now tightly controlled anger.

Donovan’s hands clenched into fists and Thea laughed, an eerily lifeless sound that chilled Calum down to the bone. “Oh? You’re gonna hit me again, Donny? Go ahead. Seeing as how that worked out for you so well the last time.” Her voice was low and lethal as she took a dangerous step forward, leaning up on the tips of her toes to get as close to Donovan’s face as she could. “Be more than happy to break your nose again. Straighten it back out.”

Quick as a flash, Donovan’s hand snaked around Thea’s other wrist. And the way her breath hitched in pain was the final straw in this meeting for Calum. “Let her go,” he said with a steady calmness.

Donovan turned his attention back to Calum, hand still gripping Thea, a terribly cruel smile on his lips. “And what are you? My replacement? The princess’s bodyguard?”

“Nah, mate,” Calum replied, his tone almost bored. “Thea doesn’t need a bodyguard for one thing. And for another, I don’t play anybody’s replacement, especially not some shitty excuse for a man like yourself.”

Donovan dropped Thea’s wrist as more players from both teams started coming out of the locker rooms.

Thea watched the silent stand off between the men. Donovan’s face was twisted in a sneer, barely containing the rage radiating off him; Calum the epitome of relaxed ease, his anger tightly restrained. Two sides of the same coin. Thea cradled her wrist to her, the skin tender and red. She gave the barest shake of her head as Coach Anderson walked by, worry in his eyes.

“Count your days,” Donovon hissed after Coach Anderson passed before stalking off himself.

Thea felt her knees go weak. “Whoa, steady,” Calum said, his hands flying to her waist, his hold delicate. “Are you alright?”

Thea shook her head. “No. And I wouldn’t suggest making an enemy out of him. Not for my sake.”

“What if I wanted to make him an enemy for my sake?” Calum asked, the corners of his lips pulling up in a playful smirk.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice strong. “He’s part of my past for a reason. Leave it that way.”

Calum dropped the smirk. “With all due respect, I’m not sure if I can.” And without saying another word, or entertaining another argument from her on the matter, Calum walked off to join the rest of his team.

“That one,” Coach Anderson overheard as Calum fixed his stare on Donovan. “Number 83. Find any excuse to hit him. Hard.”

Ashton snorted, “And what could he have possibly done to already royally piss you off?”

“None of your damn business,” Calum snapped. “Hit him, or I’ll hit you into him, is that understood?”

Ashton clicked his tongue in his cheek, taking note of how Calum’s eyes flickered to watch Thea settle herself behind their bench, before flickering back over to Donovan. Watching. Studying. “What did he do to her?” Ashton asked, keeping his voice low.

“I’m not sure of all the details, but there was some sort of abuse.”

Ashton cracked his knuckles.

~~~

The game was brutal, even by hockey standards. The crowd cheered and winced whenever a player was slammed into the plexiglass barrier. No one seemed to note, however, that oftentimes it was Estrada who was shoved up against the wall. No one except those involved, and Thea.

Thea couldn’t control the gasp that escaped her as the plexiglass barrier in front of her shook with the force of Donovan being slammed into it.

The referee blew his whistle, calling a penalty on Calum for boarding. Calum merely shrugged as he skated off towards the penalty box, Donovan shooting daggers at him the whole time. Thea slowly made her way through the crowd to get closer to the penalty box. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she hissed at Calum.

“Playing,” he answered with that same bored tone.

She rolled her eyes. “I told you to leave him alone. You don’t know what he’s capable of doing.”

“And I told you,” Calum replied, his words coming out cold and harsh, “that I can’t let it go. And I can handle him.”

“Calum, please.”

The plea in her voice and body language irritated Calum. Thea was scared, and he hated it. “I’m sorry, Thea. I’m so sorry,” was all he said before he jumped back into the game.

“Calum!”

To his credit, Calum laid off Donovan for the remainder of the game. But Ashton and Luke picked up his slack, and Donovan still had it out for Calum.

Donovan bided his time, taking the hits from Ashton and Luke and adding it to the specific style of hell he would leash upon Calum, and when he saw his opening, he didn’t hesitate.

“Hood!” Calum heard the shouted warning moments before his head slammed into plexiglass.

Helmets clattered to the ice and a fist was on a collision course with his jaw. Calum never heard the whistle as he tackled Donovan onto the ice, both of their fists flying. If Donovan wanted a fight, he was gonna get a fight, consequences be damned. Calum didn’t care if he got thrown out of the game, if Coach Anderson benched him for the rest of the season, or if he even got blacklisted from the league entirely. All he cared about was making sure Donovan knew that there were no lengths Calum wouldn’t go through for Thea’s sake.

Calum wasn’t aware of Ashton and Luke physically dragging him away down towards the locker room, the rest of the team and the coaches following in a hurry. He wasn’t aware of anything except a blinding desire to go back out and finish his fight with Donovan. Nothing until Thea’s face appeared in his line of vision, worry making her eyebrows crease together.

“Oh, Calum,” she mused, her touch gentle as she traced the bruising on his face.

“You should see the other guy,” he tried to smirk. “And since when do you call me ‘Calum’?”

“That is your name, isn’t it?”

“You know what I mean.”

She sighed, and there was a beat of silence as the locker room emptied. “Why’d you do it?” she asked, her voice a low whisper despite them now being alone.

“It’s stupid to explain. But I feel… protective of you, in a way I don’t fully understand. I don’t know the full history between you and Estrada, and it makes no difference to me if you tell me it all, or you don’t. Well it does make a difference, but not that way, if that makes sense. Like I still would want to beat him to a pulp. I still do want to beat him to a pulp. I want to make him pay for every ounce of hurt he ever caused you because I’m not the type to stand to the side. And the way you reacted around Estrada… I know I would do anything to make sure nobody ever makes you feel that way because… because you, Thea, are… you’re…”

“I’m what?”

“You are… unexpected. In the best way possible. Every time I think I got you figured out, you find a new way to surprise me. So, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry if I overstepped, or made you feel that I don’t think you can handle your own shit.”

She pondered on his words, saw the sincerity in his face, his beautifully bloodied face. “You’re right. That was stupid to explain.”

Calum scowled as much as he could. “Gee, thanks. Pouring my heart out over here.”

“Pouring your heart out? ‘Sorry I pummeled your ex during a game where I’m supposed to be a professional, but you’re just so unexpected!” she mocked, batting her eyes at him for extra effect.

He chuckled. “I didn’t say I was sorry for fighting him. I said I was sorry if you found me defending you offensive.”

“Well I accept your apology, Calum.”

“That’s four times now you’ve actually called me by my name. You can’t tell me that’s coincidental.”

Thea shrugged “I’m unexpected, what can I say?” Then, her lips brushed lightly against Calum’s cheek. “And for what it’s worth, I care about you, too. More than I ever thought I could care about a hockey br— Sorry. Hockey player. Not brute. Matter of fact, let’s just agree that I’ll never call you a brute again, so long as you never call me a princess.”

“Deal,” Calum easily agreed, as his playful nickname for her had been tainted the moment in rolled off Donovan’s lips with such disgust. “And Thea? Provided I’m not about to walk out of here and lose my job, and uh, maybe after my face heals up, would you maybe wanna go out to dinner?”

“You owe me a rematch on that race, first. And if you win, then you can take me out.”

“And if I lose?”

“I don’t see that happening.”

Tag List

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#ice breaker #calum hood #calum hood fic #calum hood x oc!female #hockey!cal #hockey AU #hockey player x ice skater #5sos #calpal irwin

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stylesparadise · 1 year

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Hi friends! I hope this post finds you well! I’m going to cut to the chase and say that I am once again looking for someone to (telegram) roleplay with!

My life has been a bit crazy lately, but I’m finding some inspiration and free time that I would love to put into a creative outlet to strengthen myself as a writer. I am over 21 so I request that my partners are the same, maybe 18+, but absolutely no minors. I’ve been writing for at least 9 years and would like to say that I’m well seasoned in this! I normally write a page (or more) depending on how well detailed the other response is so that I feel I can have enough to write off of. I’m more than okay with switching plots and trying new things so please do not hesitate to ask on any of those. I also get lives get in the way and I will put in here that I do work a full time early morning job!

I am interested in broadening from my normal and would like to search for someone to write for Sirius Black (or Harry Potter in general), Pedro Pascal or Joel Miller, and as always Harry Styles, One Direction (and solo!), 5SOS. if any of this interests you please message me and hopefully we can connect!

I do ask that you use “,” quotations when speaking, proper grammar and spelling, and are able to write in this lengthier responses (I understand short ones happen). I normally prefer doubles and would like to stick to that as I feel it’s only fair and wouldn’t want to make someone write as only a male lead. We can discuss everything else!

4.16.2023

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lovesosweeet · 22 days

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MAY THE BEST MAN WIN

competing for the best toast at their best friends' wedding, calum and tanner go from being pretend rivals to… something like friends. maybe a little more? may the best man win.

read on ao3

part one

“Tanner, right?”

The blonde woman dressed in a magenta sweater, baggy jeans, and green sneakers turns to find the owner of the voice that just spoke to her, ripping her gaze from the photograph on the wall.

“Yep, that’s me,” she says with a bright smile.

The man holds his hand out to her to shake. “I’m Ryan. Big fan, and also a friend of Lou’s.”

Tanner smiles even bigger, but instead of shaking his hand, she pulls him into a hug. “Ryan! Oh my goodness, it’s so good to finally meet you!”

It’s the opening night of their mutual friend Lou’s newest photography collection at a gallery in London. Both Tanner and Ryan are photographers, which is how they know Lou, but they’ve never met, with Ryan constantly on tour with 5SOS and Tanner always chasing down new projects in new cities. Tanner has followed Ryan for so long and somehow had never been able to meet him, despite being a huge fan of his work.

“I can’t believe we’re finally in the same city at the same time,” Ryan says.

“I mean, I couldn’t miss Lou’s new stuff! Everything he does is so inspiring.” Tanner motions at the space they’re in, filled with fellow creatives and Lou’s photographs blown up to being a few feet tall a piece.

Ryan laughs, watching as the blonde woman in front of him stares at the art surrounding them with stars in her eyes. “He always cites you as his biggest inspiration, Tanner.”

She shrugs, her eyes fixating on a photograph of an antique watch that Lou has manipulated a lot in Photoshop, warping the edges and adding in colors. She loves it and makes a mental note that she wants to talk to Lou about it later. “Life and art and inspiration and ideas… we all share it. It’s not yours or mine or his. It’s ours.”

Tanner refocuses her gaze onto Ryan to find him shaking his head at her. “Y’know, I always wondered if your ‘spiritual, perpetually philosophical and uplifting’ thing was just for Instagram.”

Tanner rolls her eyes. “I’m not like that. What you see is what you get.”

Ryan smiles. “Good. The best people are like that.”

She nods, her smile matching his. “Totally.”

“Tanner! Ryan! You made it!” Lou appears from the crowd with his arms open for his two friends.

“You know I don’t turn down a chance to come to London,” Tanner chimes while she hugs the photographer.

“The show is sick, man,” Ryan tells his friend, hugging him after Tanner lets go.

“Surprised both of you could make it, honestly,” Lou chuckles.

“Literally! I’ve been hoping to meet Tanner for so long now.”

Tanner blushes and shrugs. “I am just a girl with a camera and a dream.”

Ryan and Lou laugh loudly at her comment and share some kind of knowing glance.

“The guys are gonna lose their minds when they find out I used my days off to come to London and meet the Tanner Thorne.”

Tanner raises her eyebrows. “The guys?”

She knows who 5SOS is, and she assumes that’s who he’s referring to. Who doesn’t know who they are? How do they know who she is? Sure, photographers and some models know who she is, but people don’t just know who photographers are, even if they’re the ‘famous’ ones.

Ryan laughs quietly. “You know, the loud, tall, gangly men in 5 Seconds of Summer.”

She rolls her eyes. “I know who they are, Ryan. Why would they lose their minds that you met me?”

She’s really that clueless? Ryan thinks.

“Tanner, you and Valerie are one of the most iconic best friend duos on the planet. Everyone knows who you are,” Lou explains. He’s used to Tanner being like this. She’s humble and unaware of the effect she has on people. It’s endearing.

Valerie Summers is Tanner’s lifelong best friend. She’s also one of the biggest supermodels in the world. Tanner and Valerie were discovered simultaneously, with Tanner behind the lens of each photograph of Valerie that caught the media’s attention. When Valerie got her first modeling contract, a photographer that worked with the agency asked Tanner to be their apprentice. At the age of 17, the best friends move to New York to begin their careers in fashion.

Their careers took off, with Valerie eventually moving to LA to pursue work there and Tanner beginning the start of her nomadic lifestyle that she still leads. They don’t see each other much, but at every fashion week or awards show, you can find them attached at the hip the entire night. Tanner knows Valerie is a star, but thinks of herself as just a girl in a press pit, taking pictures and hiding in the wings.

“You didn’t hear it from me, but Ashton is obsessed with Valerie. Watches every single interview she does, buys any magazine with her face on it, says it’s the biggest goal of his life to have her breathe on him.”

Tanner snorts with laughter. Ashton Irwin, the drummer, has been Valerie’s celebrity crush for years. Val has never had the guts to approach him, even though they follow each other on Instagram. It’s too funny of a coincidence. Valerie bought Ashton’s solo album on vinyl and has it framed in her bathroom. Their obsession is mutual, and nobody knows it. Until now.

“You’re shitting me,” Tanner giggles, but when she looks at Ryan, she can see he’s being completely serious.

“Obsessed.”

“Val’s into Ash, Ryan,” Lou says, laughing just as much as Tanner is.

Ryan’s jaw falls open. “What? No, no way!”

Tanner shakes her head, still laughing. “Obsessed. Superbloom is her most played album of all time.”

With wide eyes, Ryan shakes his head too, starting to laugh with his two friends.

Deciding it’s fate that brought them together, Tanner knows what she has to do. She needs to get her best friend on a date with Ashton Irwin, and the way to make it happen is right in front of her.

“Here, let’s get them together, Ryan. Give me your phone. You should totally give Ashton her number.”

#5sos fic #5sosficfest2024 #5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #calum hood #5sosfam #michael clifford #fanfiction #fanfic #mtbmw #calum hood x oc #calum hood x ofc #calum fic #calum 5sos

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nimrats · 2 years

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ㅤ ㅤ ✿ ; STAR OF THE NIGHT, ̽ ₊

calum hood ❣︎ model!oc

warnings ; mentions of toxic family relationships / abuse and eating disorders. swearing and probably alluding to sex / sexual innuendos, but i won’t write smut. ✧₊˚·

°.* ʚ he doesn’t know her name, but he knows she’s the star of the night. whether it was just to him, or the rest of the audience too. ɞ *.°

OC ୨୧ ELSIE FINN ── learn more !!

taglist available!! just ask :)

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ 𖦹 CHAPTERS ! 𖦹

prologue ── people watching

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be-ready-when-i-say-go · 1 year

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Backdoor Deal With The Devil--Part 3: Wreckening

Calum meets Eve in a bar. And it would be a normal story. However, Eve’s more than he bargained for, and so, the story’s never so simple.

Black!OC.

CW: Mentions of death--no graphic depictions. Overall series contains: Christian religious themes, mentions of death, and smut (18+ only).

Word Count: 24K+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 (Coming Soon)

Enjoy my masterlist

********************************************

Calum gets it. When Eve steps in through the door eyes still glowing purple and the small trail of smoke behind her, he’s reminded of all that he had. He’s reminded that he did turn out like the rest. Is this what all the other lovers thought? When they’re older, hips achy and joints stiff, did all the lovers before him wish that they’d chosen something else? Do they wish they’d chosen her? He's second guessing all his choices, bringing her back to a point that she’s used to only having to come to only once at the end, when death is calling. Call it selfish, Calum doesn’t care. It’s Eve and it’s almost all he needs. Calum sighs, eyes slipping closer when her knuckles caress his cheek.

“What’s your secret?” Eve teases. He hasn’t aged much at all in a quick glance. Sure there’s more wrinkles and a bit more gray, but it’s still Calum.

“Oh,” Calum laughs, “my ex-wife said it was coconut oil, sunscreen, and minding my own business. But I’m not sure how right she was about the last one.”

“Sounds like a smart woman.” Sounds like me, she wants to say, but keeps it buried in her gut. The words are tight. They feel like bricks on her chest. But Eve drops her hand and takes in the room. Two boys, one girl and they wear echoes of Calum’s face. Eve doesn’t usually meet the children. But Eve usually doesn’t come back until the very end. She’s mindful more now than she was before what she is here for. Calum told her his kids would be there. He told her that he wanted to introduce them.

Eve hadn’t understood the gravity of the request until now, until she was staring back at the echoes of Calum’s face and seeing their mother in their faces too. Their mother. Eve exhales on the thought. They were children, but they’d already had a mother. Even if they did want to get to know her better, even if they liked her, Eve would be the other woman. Maybe she’d be given the title step mother graciously--but in a sense of later. Maybe they’d like her enough to entertain the thought. But they would always have had a mother. It would never be Eve.

“Kiri, Cailean, and Māra,” Calum starts introducing each of his children. “My little rascals,” he teases, throwing his arm over Kiri’s shoulder. He’s the eldest and has just barely surpassed Calum in height while Cailean is nearly 6 inches taller. Māra holds Eve’s gaze steady. The two--Eve and Māra--are roughly the same height.

Where Calum expects Eve to speak first, Māra beats her to it. “Nakahi.” It falls in a whisper.

Calum steps up. Māra’s not one to mince her word, having two older brothers means she’s had to not be so coy in order to get a word in edgewise. But the last thing Calum wants is animosity between them. But even if Māra isn’t happy about this kind of introduction the last thing she should be doing is this. Eve holds up her arm to pause him, the tips of her fingers hitting him in his sternum.

“I am,” Eve answers. If the eyes didn’t give it away the tongue would. If not the tongue, all Eve would have to do to prove herself as the snake would just to get close. But she doesn’t shy away from it now.

Eve’s easy acceptance of the insult stuns Māra. Why would Eve so easily tolerate it? Why would she agree? Just as quickly as the shock lands, it dissipates. Whatever Eve’s reasons are, they would not break Māra's resolve. “I don’t know why he’s asked you here. But we don’t need a mother.”

“I could never be your mother,” Eve returns. “I will never be your mother. I don’t want to replace her. I’m not going to do that.”

“Bullshit,” she hisses. “Why else would you show up? Hm? You want something.”

Eve only bows her head, hand dropping back to her side. Eve did want something--she wanted peace. She wanted her slice of heaven back. She’d always come back when Calum called her. But just because she would want that didn’t mean others would have to like it. “I’m sorry, Māra.” She turns her attention to Calum’s sons and gives a small smile. “Nice meeting you two. Your father’s twins.”

Cailean grins. “Much more spry than him though.”

Calum levels an unamused look that sends Cailean into a fit of laughter. He knows his father. It’s more annoyance that Calum is trying to convey than severe discipline. Eve’s laughter is soft at the moment. There’s still clear tension beneath the moment of levity. Eve gives her condolences for their late mother, before turning for the door. It’s not that Eve thinks it was a mistake to come. She knew the second Calum told her that his wife had died a few months back and that he wanted to try again with her; they'd be fighting the same battle before their divorce.

“You’re the reason she couldn’t look at me.”

The room freezes but only for a terse and long moment. Calum turns to Māra’s voice. Her chest is heaving but her chin looks unsteady. “Your mother loved you, Mar,” Calum pleads.

Calum needs her to know that. Even if he did do this, even if he asked about the name, knowing the reason behind it all, he never once wanted Māra to feel responsible for any of this. It was selfish. Calum wanted something of Eve after they split. It was less of a mutual choice and more a matter of timing. Calum had crept into his forties faster than he’d realized. The band had slowed down. He adored his time with Eve, but the truth is that their relationship was turning heads. Eve hadn’t, quite literally, aged a day since the start. People were starting to notice, starting to ask questions. Time had ruined them, much like Eve had predicted it would. And then it happened. Wedding bands sat on the dining room table. Eve asked such a simple question but it tipped the scales, “How much longer do you think you can fight fate?”

Māra’s name was all Calum trying to cope with his choices. Māra ducks the outreach of Calum’s touch.

From the stuttered apologies of Calum’s mouth, a clear voice rings out--Eve. “Your mother loves you. Present tense.” Eve’s steps are silent as she closes the distance, but the steps are swift. Eve gets in close. She’s not close enough to invade personal boundaries. But Māra can feel a bit of the heat wafting off Eve’s robes. The purple gaze swirls and for a moment Māra swears she sees her mother’s face in the ocean of purple and brown. “She will never stop loving you. Hate me, a lot of people do. But your mother could never stop loving you. You are not the burden of your mother’s foolishness. You are not responsible for what she did and did not do. You are not responsible for your father’s recklessness--naming you after the other woman, how stupid. But you are still and will always be your mother’s daughter. She will always love you.”

Calum ducks his head at the reprimand. He didn’t think Kelsie would actually agree, and when she had, he was elated. But he hadn’t thought about the consequences. He hadn’t realized what it would actually mean to Māra or to Kelsie.

“You-what?” Māra balks. She takes a half step back, trying to read Eve’s face--the furrowed brow, the hard set scowl. Eve looks nothing like what Māra expected her to look like. Eve looks nothing like Māra wanted Eve to look like. Māra wanted a nasty woman who always looked like she was sneering. But Eve’s face is soft--approachable in a way that Māra has to fight not to give into and just beyond that is clearly a woman who cares, deeply by the flare of her voice, like she’s angry Māra could ever think a thing like that.

“Did you expect me to be flattered that I’ve doomed you, Māra? It’s a good thing I’m only the Devil and not more. You weren’t supposed to get caught in these crosshairs. I can’t undo it. You can, of course if you want. But I’m not bringing you into this. I refuse. You are not the actions of your parents. You are not cursed. Only one of us needs to be and the last time I checked, I’m still fulfilling the position. Leave it to me. All of it.” Eve’s quirked eyebrow says everything that she does not. I am not an enemy. Do not confuse my confession and acceptance of responsibility for weakness. Leave it all with me, I am begging you, but do not take it out on your mother or your father.

Eve is nothing like Māra expected or wanted Eve to be. It would make it so much easier. Māra assumed Eve would take the chance to come slithering back in, play pretend in a family she’d only doomed from the start. But Eve is doing just the opposite.

Māra casts her look to the floor under the heat of Eve’s gaze. “It hurts.”

“It’s going to. It’s only been seven months since you lost her. It’s going to still hurt. And you’re going to be angry. But be angry at me. The thing about having this existence is that we are flawed. We make mistakes. You are not other people’s mistakes. You will make plenty of your own, but do not carry the burden of someone else’s.”

It feels so easy to tell Māra that and it feels so ironic--how Eve had literally become Lucifer’s mistake. But as the years slipped by and continued on, Eve started to consider the idea that maybe Lucifer’s death was her fault. She’d prayed for it. Maybe all she had been doing the entire time was becoming who she was supposed to be. Her identity--even in all the years Eve has lived--would always plague her. It would always perplex her. She would always have to wrestle with it. Good thing there is beauty in becoming. Eve’s journey never stopped.

Eve continues on, “You can be more than what they imagined for you. You can be more with anyone’s imagination for you. Doesn’t that sound so much better than being a shadow?” Eve’s smile is sad. Māra wonders how much of this is actually for her and how much is for Eve. Māra can only stare; she can only try and watch again for another glimpse of her mother’s face in Eve’s eyes. It never comes.

Eve is there, a tender but warm touch on Māra’s wrist and then Eve is gone. Her steps take her to the door and then out of it and the door clicks shut. Calum sighs and follows behind Māra as she heads for the stairs up to her room no doubt. “Māra, please, will you talk to me?”

Māra keeps on. Her father’s pleas are ringing in her ears, but her wrist tingles. Eve’s touch felt electric and she can’t get Eve’s speech out of her head. Doesn’t that sound so much better than being a shadow? What else would Māra even be if not a shadow? Her mother hadn’t been confident enough to push back on her name. Her father's been too in love with someone else to give her something of her own. Māra would always be a shadow. But the thing, the person, the entity that was supposed to be blocking her was stepping aside. Eve was telling Māra to be so much more than her.

Calum stops short just fast enough to avoid his nose being smacked into a bloody pulp by the strength of Māra’s slam. The lock clicks and he drops his head into the hollow wood. “Māra, please, I’m sorry,” Calum croaks. The tears are clearer now as they flood his vision. He’s not sure when the tears started but they fall freely now.

Calum only gives himself a few moments at Māra’s door before pushing off it. “I’ll be here when you’re ready to talk,” he calls out softly.

No response.

When Calum returns downstairs, Kiri and Cailean are settled onto the living room couch. Calum looks over to the table with the spread of food he’d prepared. “Eat however much you want, it doesn't matter. Make sure Māra eats too please when she comes down.”

Kiri nods at the instruction. “You hungry, Pops?”

Calum inhales hard, trying to keep more tears at bay. “I’m good, son. Thanks. Leave whatever’s left when you three are done. I’ll-I’ll clean it up, alright?”

“So, where are you headed?” Cailean asks, noticing the shuffle of Calum’s body near the hallway. “I mean--Eve, uh, made quite the scene. I-I sort of like her.”

“You just think she’s hot,” Kiri retorts. “But she could’ve been our mom, so gross.”

“Good thing she’s not. And if you’re saying that I think she’s hot, it means you think she was too.”

Kiri shoves his younger brother’s shoulders before grabbing a throw pillow to follow the shove with a blow. “Shut up.”

Calum lets the rough housing bring the levity it always does. But he’s also aware of his role as their father. “Alright, alright,” he calls out and the tussle, mostly a battle of the couch throws, settles swiftly. “Eat, please. That way you’ll be too tired to cause trouble.”

The boys laugh for a moment before pushing up. Cailean heads up the steps and Calum’s sure it’s to coax Māra out of her room. This is not what he expected when he asked Eve to stop by. But if Calum’s learned anything about life is that it never cooperates. The stairs carry the echoes of two sets of feets. Māra pointedly doesn’t look at Calum. There’s no fighting it. There’s nothing he can say to her to make it better and until she’s ready, he’d just be wasting time.

“I swear to Christ Cai, I will murder you,” Māra huffs and Calum watches as the two wrestle for the spoon in the macaroni and cheese. Cailean gives up easily and lets her get her scoops served first.

“Gotta make you work for it,” he returns.

Calum can only watch as they settle at their respective spots at the table. Kiri nods for Calum to take his seat too and Calum sighs. He wants to talk to Eve, ask her what the hell happened and what he should do. But his kids matter more than anything else. They’ve lost a mother; they shouldn’t lose him too. Calum fixes his plate, and settles down to complete the unit. His kids won’t lose him. As much as it hurts, to put Eve on the back burner again, to know that in the grand scheme of things she’d always understand because she’d have to, Calum knows that the consequence of not putting his children first would be a worser fate.

He goes to the table. Though he doesn’t actually eat until much later in the night, after they’ve all gone up to their rooms, Calum sits with his children like a father should.

The guest bedroom sheets are just as Calum left them from the morning, tucked and a little rumpled. It doesn’t matter since his mother’s no longer filling the space anymore. She left two weeks ago, after staying two months to help him as he tried to find some sort of grounding in this new phase of his life. For a moment, as Calum settles under the cover, he wonders if he’s just using Eve to fill the void he’s not ready to confront. But is it a crime? He’s always had someone for the better half of his life. Being alone is terrifying.

The night should go like all the others. Calum doesn’t sleep--not for long anyway. Instead, he lays of the night staring up at the ceiling. His eyes will get heavy somewhere around 1 in the morning and then they’ll crack open around 5 am, if he’s lucky of course. He’ll then lay again, watching more of the ceiling not change and then finally push up to get breakfast going and ensure all the kids who need to be at school in the morning are at school.

His sleep isn’t fitfull anymore, thankfully. He doesn’t dream of the crash anymore, seven months later. So when Calum shuts his eyes and floats into nothingness, he thinks tonight will be like all the rest of his nights lately. But behind the nothingness is red, a hint of blue too, but mostly red and some yellow. A muted coloring that is until a siren cuts in. And amongst the road--glass, blood, and metal is Kelsie.

Calum’s just behind the yellow tape. He wants to break the barrier, but he can’t. It won’t budge. That damned tape. “Kelsie, hold on!” he shouts.

None of the firefighters and first responders really seem to care. They walk around Kelsie and her flipped car. But they don’t move towards it. “Help her! Please!” Calum hollers. “My wife needs help!”

The barrier pushes back. Calum claws desperately at it. He thinks he might be able to get a leg up and if he can, he can get over. But the barrier pushes and pushes him back. It scrapes against the asphalt, right into his gut and he can’t get over it.

In the light, as his hands stretch out but get no real purchase to bring himself closer to Kelsie, his gold band glints. The red and yellow lights bounce off the band and it feels like hot iron. The flesh around the band stings. It creeps up his palm, dancing a fire line to his elbow. Calum hisses out at the sting and when the sharpness suprasses his elbow, a full on yell escapes his throat.

Calum forces the sheets off himself, a gasp filling his lungs with air that he hadn’t realized he’d lost. The room is dark around him. There’s a faint hum above him and he knows it’s Kiri’s room. The boy ran a fan at all times, even in winter. The house is as silent as it usually is at night. As Calum sits up, palm pushing into the mattress, he catches how damn the sheets are. He checks the chest of the t-shirt and sure enough he’s sweat through the cotton of it.

Calum swings his feet to the floor. The hardwood is cool under his toes, but what rocks him more are the tears slipping from his eyes. Calum covers his face with his palms and lets himself cry. He probably needed it anyway. No one would help her. He knows that’s not actually the case. The cops told him that paramedics spent several minutes performing CPR on Kelsie at the crash site. They wanted to get her breathing again before moving her on, but time was of the essence too. They tried the whole damn ambulance ride to resuscitate, but she was declared dead on arrival at the hospital.

Everyone tried to help her.

And yet, Calum still can’t shake the grip of grief. He should’ve told her he’d go. He should’ve just taken the cross city trip. He should’ve embraced the fucking traffic.

And it’s not Calum’s fault. But having someone to blame made more sense of the accident. Someone would have to be at fault. It didn’t feel right to blame the previous accident that had caused the pile up. Calum’s not sure why he can’t blame it. It never felt right. His sob rings back to Calum and he tries hard to swallow back down the sound. Calum wants to be past this stuff. He wants to be past the nightmares. Calum spends most of his waking time feeling like he can get through. He can get through his days most of the time. Calum can get through.

Yet now, it feels like it’s all crumbling.

Calum throws his head back, inhaling hard. The tears haven’t slowed, but he’s not choking on sobs anymore. It’s an improvement. He inhales once, deeply through his nose. It falls from his lips shaky. But he inhales again. “You couldn’t have saved her,” Calum tells himself.

But I wish I could’ve. I wish I could’ve been the one dead and not her.

Calum knows what it means when those thoughts slip in. It’s the fatigue. He doesn’t want to actually die. He just wants to end his suffering. He reaches forward, hand slapping down into the bedside table. The tap of his fingers causes his phone to light up and he gets a solid grip on the device before pulling it closer to him.

He enters his code and finds his text messages.

Eve’s thread is right near the top. I can be there. It’s all she said when Calum asked her to come by, even when he mentioned the kids being there. She hadn’t said anything since she left. No text. No call. Calum had intended to apologize one more time about Māra’s outburst, but then he had to be the dad. He sat down with his kids for dinner and he had to do the things sole surviving parents do even when they want to give in because they can’t give in. Or least, Calum wouldn’t give in.

His fingers hover over her name. Maybe he could call her. Eve would always understand. But he can’t bring himself to call her. It’s not her duty for this. Not that Eve would call him weak, but he hates the feeling that he’d reach out to her in such a state. All choices with her he wanted to make when his head was clear. They had too much history. Eve was too understanding. She was too resigned to her own fate as the other woman that she’d let herself become a punching bag.

But Calum clings, even as he clicks away from her name and thread to Ashton’s, Calum clings to the smile she gave him when he opened the door. She smiled at him like the sun had just dawned after days of clouds. He could use that smile to get him through the night.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Ashton’s voice is thick, clearly he too had been asleep.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Calum returns, realizing now he hadn’t texted Ashton before calling.

“No, no, you can call whenever. How’d it go with Eve?”

“Didn’t,” Calum sighs.

“Did she not show? I thought--”

“Timing’s just not right,” Calum returns. It’s easier this way in the lie, but the truth follows soon after. “Mar sort of snapped. Eve left and I’ve got nightmares coming back out of the blue.”

“A triple threat of a day,” Ashton laughs.

“Something like that,” Calum exhales.

“Talk to me. Cry it out. Whatever you need, mate. I’m here.”

Calum does--his mouth opens again and the words fall like they’ve been backed up in a dam and Ashton just puts a crack in the wall.

**********

Kiri and Cailean announce their departure for the last of the summer party a month and some change after the failed attempt to meet Eve. Calum’d asked Eve to give them more time and she, thankfully, understood. Now, at the door of the house Calum’s with his own practiced speech, which used to be his and his wife’s. “Stick to an alcohol of one type, text you if we’re going to be staying the night, check that the condoms aren’t expired,” Cailean and Kiri echoes.

“Bless our mother for always cringing at the last part,” Cailean tacts on.

Calum pats each of them on the shoulder. “You carry the tradition well.”

“Let’s hope we don’t run into the devil ourselves,” Cailean teases. His fascination with Eve hasn’t exactly waned in the time, but Calum takes the jokes in stride.

Calum knows they’re harmless, but still he has to give Cailean a run for his words. “She’ll smite you,” Calum laughs, knocking gently at the snapback on Cailean’s head. He wears it backward at any and every turn. It is a miracle that any formal events in the last two years haven’t been a battle. Calum watches the two boys, three years apart, slip through the front door. Their laughter echoes behind the closed door.

The drawers from the kitchen rattle as they open and close. Calum pads over and peeks his head to see Māra fixing a bowl of ice cream. “Do you want some?” she asks, back turned to Calum.

“I’m okay, sweetpea. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course,” she returns.

It's an improvement. She’d gone nearly a week and a half where she only spoke to Calum when he initiated her. He’d tried to take it in stride and held together his peace and sanity thinking of what Kelsie had to remind him of all the time, She’s slow to crack. Just keep a steady presence. And boy had Kelsie been right about Māra more than ever before.

“Still good for back to school shopping tomorrow?” Calum asks.

“Sounds good. These boots I want just went on sale.”

“The white platform ones?”

She nods, turning now with the bowl to her chest. “With the pink hearts.”

“Are they in the cart already?” Calum leans into the wall, keeping a soft smile on his face.

“Maybe,” Māra sings out.

“Use my card when you check out.”

“It’s 109 with shipping,” Māra states, grinning wide for a moment. She’s waiting. The boots were originally 170 and she prayed that she could find a coupon to get them under 100 so that Calum would be more reasonable about the compromise. While the boots had a major slash in price, shipping still pushed her over the threshold.

“You better wear them. Every single day,” Calum laughs, nodding over his shoulder.

“Dad,” she reprimands

“At least once a week.”

“Fair.” With the first spoonful consumed, Māra leaves herself pressed into the counter. “I shouldn’t have said that stuff to Eve. It wasn’t fair.”

“Do you feel cursed?” Calum asks in return. He could tell her she’s right. He could tell her that she was out of line, but she already knows that. The more important thing right now is the why. Why did Māra feel the need to say that in the first place? Could Calum keep her from feeling that way again in the future?

Māra shrugs. In and of itself, the action is an answer. “I feel like Mom loved me. She didn’t treat me any different. But she knew, didn’t she? About Eve?”

Calum tries to not make his children responsible for his own emotions. They’re not free therapy but they were watchful kids. They noticed even if Calum didn’t want them too. “Your mom did know about Eve.” A neutral response. It answers Māra’s question but doesn’t shift blame or responsibility.

“Why? Why’d you do it?”

“Eve wasn’t wrong when she called me reckless. I thought I was clever with the reasons I told her mother. But your mother was more clever than I.”

Māra hums around a second spoonful of her ice cream. The silence hangs between them. Calum can feel it pressing against his shoulders. But he can’t press Māra. The words bashes against his teeth and then his lips are parting before he really realizes. “You’re not just what I thought I could hang onto of Eve. You’re my daughter. Who makes fashion choices that give me heart attacks and who can tussle with the boys and not be afraid of a scratch. You’re brilliant in maths and science. You’re going to find the cure for some rare disease, kid. I know you will. You are more than a name.”

“Cancer--I’m going to find the cure for cancer,” Māra corrects.

“You’re going to find the cure for cancer,” Calum reiterates.

Her spoon clinks against the side of the bowl, ringing in their ears long after the sounds disappeared from the air. “What-What happened to Eve? Like when she told me to let her be the only cursed one and that it sounded so much better to be more than a shadow--did something happen? To her?”

Calum exhales. He could answer that. But he shouldn’t. It’s not his story to tell. Calum pushes off the wall and puts the container of ice cream back into the freezer before leaning into the counter next to Māra. “If you want, you can ask her yourself. But I can’t answer that for her. It’s her story to tell.”

“Yeah, let’s just summon the devil right quick,” Māra snorts, holding her bowl out--a small gesture to see if Calum was sure about the lack of ice cream on his part.

Calum gently nudges her shoulder, “We can. I have her number.”

The text is easy to send--Māra wants a chat when you’re free. Let me know. The waiting is the hard part. Māra clings to his arm, peering at the phone every few seconds to see the reply come in. She’d huff about Calum for specifying it was her desire to speak with Eve, but she lets go of all the annoyance when Calum’s phone shakes.

I’ll be there in half an hour, baring Death has no more surprise plans.

“Who’s Death?” Māra asks.

“A long standing friend,” Calum laughs.

“Like the Grim Reaper?” Calum nods at the question. Māra continues on, “What the hell did you get yourself into, Dad? You’re just in the midst of all these darn supernatural beings. Were you in love with Death too?”

Playfully, Calum gets Māra into a headlock before kissing her forehead. “I had a wild youth.”

“Apparently.” She tugs herself free from Calum’s hold and huffs when her hair stands up straight from the friction of his t-shirt. Calum’s quick to smooth down the curls. Māra picks up her bowl again. The bottom portion of the bowl is a sugary milk that she can slurp up with just a quick tilt while the rest remains solid. The minutes feel like they’re crawling. Eventually Calum leads both of them to the kitchen table, settling in next to each other.

“She’ll be here. Or let us know if she’s going to be late,” Calum reassures when he notices Māra’s glance back to his phone. “Besides, it still gives you time to complete that purchase.”

“Shoes! You’re right!” Māra scurries up to her room to grab her laptop. Calum finds his wallet and they meet back at the dining room table. He’s wary of the platform shoes, but Māra begs and pleads that she’ll be okay, so he slides her the card to complete the purchase. She’s swift with typing in the numbers and his name. They’re not too high of a heel and they are thick so they should provide more stability--something Calum had learned from Kelsie in their shopping escapades.

Her laptop dings two minutes later. “Ordered. Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re welcome, Mar.”

A clink of the spoon hitting the bowl echoes throughout the room. “If you loved Eve so much, why did you marry Mom?”

“I love your mother.” It’s easy to say that. Because he does love Kelsie. He also loves Eve. Calum never attempted to qualify it or quantify the love he has for Kelsie. Inevitably, it would always be an unfair comparison when put up against the level he has for Eve. They were both types of love and they were both different. “It’s not a switch--love. And when you get older than you are now, it’ll make more sense. But sometimes we can’t be together forever with who we love. Things happen. People want different things.”

“Love sounds awful, ya know?”

“I used to think the same thing, kid.” Calum confesses. They stare out of the windows that make up the walls of the side of the house. It’s a cloudy night--thanks to some earlier storm so there’s a bit of a haze to the night. “Then I met Eve.”

It should be easy. However, Eve’s hands shake for just a moment before she knocks. The fog helps her for the moment though she wished the porch light didn’t feel so much like a spotlight. Calum would surely be angry with her. She’d call him reckless and his dead wife foolish. Certainly those remarks wouldn’t be overlooked. She doesn’t regret them--just wishes she’d handled it all a bit more delicately. She’d told Māra to hate her, let her be the cursed one like she already was. Enough damage, Eve was previously certain that she’d hear very little again.

The door opens and Calum smiles at her. “Hi, Eve.”

Her heart races just a little. The grays are sprinkled throughout the black and he still looks good--lived in due to his age, but still handsome as ever. “Hi, Calum,” she breathes in return.

“C’mon. Come in.” He opens the door wider and Eve steps up and into the house.

Māra’s gaze is locked in and Eve gives a small wave. She can only hope the jeans and peasant blouse don’t feel overly dramatic as she follows behind Calum. He’d given her no hint as to what the conversation would be about and Eve could not read minds even if she could manipulate dreams.

“Hi, Māra,” Eve states the closer she gets. “A little birdie told me you wanted to chat?”

Māra nods. “If such a bird is approximately 6’1 in height.”

Eve takes a once over of Calum’s stature. “I’d give him six feet even. He’s getting older; gravity kicks in.”

Calum scoffs at the jab but still offers a drink. Eve politely declines and settles opposite of Māra at the table. “I like your nails,” Māra offers, noticing the points at the end of Eve’s fingers painted a deep green.

“Thank you. I like your hair.”

“Thanks.” Then there is only silence. Calum hovers in the kitchen paused in his work to pour water though no one wanted it. Eve wants to press figure out what exactly has brought this meeting on but Māra is only a child. It takes time.

“Dad says you and him go way back? And that you know The Grim Reaper or something?”

Eve lets a small smile across her lips. “He and I do go way back. And I do know Death. We’re colleagues if you could ever imagine such a thing.”

“He stole you for a week once,” Calum retorts, setting two glasses down onto the table. “Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I apologized for that.”

“You did,” Calum concedes, returning back to the kitchen for his own glass.

“You’re such a softie,” Māra huffs. “Key, Cai, and I can never get away with just an apology.”

“You’re not supposed to,” Calum returns. “It’s in the parental handbook. You get to see a copy once you become a parent.”

Eve only watches, a soft exhale of laughter falling from her. This is what she wanted for Calum. It would never be with her. Maybe it’s her own selfishness. Maybe it truly is love. In all the centuries Eve has lived she has never once been able to settle on which one it actually is. But it’s a heartwarming scene and Calum settles to Māra’s right and teases her. Perhaps it only matters in retrospect that it has a label. Eve had plenty of time to ponder all the things of the past.

“Anyways, Dad won’t tell me what happened to you. Like what you meant about not being a shadow. I don’t know. I’m angry sometimes because I know about who I was named after and it feels like my fault? Maybe?”

Calum squeezes an arm around Māra’s shoulder. “It’s not your fault, sweetpea. It’s mine. You can always change it.”

Māra only nods but she looks at Eve. Maybe the name wouldn’t be so bad if Māra knew more. But it would all be a sign from the universe. It is a big maybe. Though the possibility is never zero. There’s just Māra’s gut—the voice that says there is something more to know before passing any last judgements.

Eve nods, gaze falling down to her fingers. “I apologize for my comments last week. Reckless and foolish were harsh words to use about your mother and father.”

“I mean kind of right though,” Māra laughs, elbowing her father. Calum concedes with only a shrug.

Easier than anticipated but Eve still wanted to right her wrongs. The apology is still sincere and Eve can only hope it’s received as such. “Still, there were kinder words to use.”

“Tell me.” The words fall softly and though it sounds like it should be a demand the lilt in Māra’s voice makes it sound so much more like a question.

“What do you want to know?” Eve questions in return.

“Everything.”

“Do you know who I am?” The word what lingers just behind the word who but Eve doesn’t utter it. She is not a thing--a long time coming, the revelation. Eve is a being--mystical and supernatural, but still a being. She is not a thing.

“Yes.”

“You know what I do?”

Māra gives a shrug. “Vaguely. Keep the pits of Hell wide open. Flames. Bad people--like I said vaguely.”

“When I caused the death of my late husband, Lucifer, I was left to take over his mantle. I was not always the Devil. I was a Saint. I fell because I was married to Lucifer when he fell. I hated it. I hated Lucifer. I wanted nothing more than to go back into the Kingdom. But years passed. Hatred turned into anger. Praying for divorce or separation turned into praying for death. Prayers receive answers, I found out. Lucifer was killed because of my prayers. I became the Devil and as if immortality is not enough, every lover I have is mortal. They’ll pass on and I will see them through to the other side and they will get a story of completion. I get the same story over and over again. A new love, mourning death, a new love, and death yet again.”

“So my dad?” The question doesn’t quite get finished but Eve nods at it. “Oh. But he’s not dead? So…where does my mom fit into this?”

It’s a sad smile--through and through-- Eve’s smile is sad and wobbly as her chin shivers. “Perhaps I have gotten too comfortable with my fate. I can’t bear children. I expect all my lovers to want that--most have. Those who haven’t cared for children aren’t prepared to handle them growing and aging while I’m stuck here, like this.” Eve gives a dismissive wave over herself.

“Did you want to leave?” Māra turns to Calum for the question. From what she could gather, he’d known all about this. And he still left.

“Sweetpea,” Calum starts. It’s all he says but everything he needs to say is in the nickname: You don’t need to worry about that. That’s not your battle. It’s mine. That’s my choice.

“No. I know it’s really not my business why you made those choices and I know that you never want us to feel like we’re responsible for them. But please, this one time, just answer me straight. Did you want to leave Eve?”

“I love Eve and I love Kelsie and I have always loved them both--in similar and in different ways. I knew I wanted kids. I knew that with my job Eve’s immortality would cause problems. I knew I had to make a choice.” Calum knows he’s dodging the question. He tried not to think about his own desires for a long time. He tried not to think about all the other options he could’ve had. Stepping behind the music scenes, going into some sort of semi retirement, hiding too if necessary. He’d briefly considered going with Eve--if she could somehow bring him to Hell. But there was something in his gut that never vocalized the thought. Maybe it’s because Eve’s always seemed content with letting Calum always be human.

“Bullshit.”

Eve snorts at Māra’s retort and looks to Calum for his reaction. She is sure that there’s two ways he’ll respond.

“Māra,” Calum returns firmly. “You may not like what I’m saying but--”

“No,” Māra interrupts. “No, Dad. I’m calling you out. We all have choices to make. We always do. You chose to bring Eve back into your life right now. You chose to introduce us. You had a reason for it.”

As much as Calum was proud of how he’d reared his children, he wishes in this moment he hadn’t done such a stellar job as right now. He sighs. “Just know you asked. I never wanted to leave Eve. But if I didn’t, if we didn’t leave the relationship when we had, I wouldn’t have Kiri, or Cailean, or you. I wouldn’t have met Kelsie. I wouldn’t know what it means to love in such soul crushing ways for my children and my late wife. Kelsie and I loved unselfishly. Because we had to. We had Kiri so early on it wasn’t about us all the time though we had our time. Then it was Cailean. Then you. We loved each other the way I want all three of you to love with a partner.”

Eve can see the tears in Māra’s eyes--the way her eyes flicker over his face, like she doesn’t understand. Though she wants to save Calum, she’s worried about crossing a line. She is not replacing nor could she ever replace Kelsie. She’d told Māra that’s not what she would ever do. So Eve flicks her gaze around and spots a napkin tray on the table. She grabs a couple and gingerly puts them into Māra’s palm.

“I love Eve selfishly,” Calum returns. “In the ways like when you’re young and you see something you just have to have or you think you’re going to die and the world’s going to end. It’s not bad, not all the time. It’s a love that can mature, can grow and really shape into something beautiful. I want it all. And even in my old age, I forget I can’t. I couldn’t then--it’s why we divorced when we did. It’s why I made sure to give everything I could to Kelsie and you three. Because I knew, I knew I couldn’t have it all. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t want it.”

“Might as well call desire a poison,” Eve states.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Calum corrects, looking up at Eve through his lashes. “Desire does not have to be fatal.”

“When you are me, it is.”

He scoffs. Eve would always be Eve--she’d always carry the curse like a badge. But he knows what’s inside of her. He knows how to make her cry with laughter. He knows how to make her feel as close to human as she can get. “The martyr act got old thirty odd years ago, Eve.”

It’s not quite a scold, but Eve knows the tone. It’s firm and comes from deeper in Calum’s chest than normal. She only nods at his steady gaze. Calum turns back to Māra. In the back of his mind he’s chanting a prayer--that she gets it, that she’ll let this go. “We all grieve in different ways,” Calum starts, staring down at his daughter. Her eyes are glassy. “I’m sorry to rush this, to act like you’re still not learning how to deal with the loss of your mother.”

“What-what if I want what you and Eve have? Had? I don’t know. But something that consumes.”

Calum sighs, eyes shutting at the sentence. “Sweetpea, no. This isn’t to prove anything to you.”

“No, you said you want me to have a love like you and Mom’s. But Mom’s--you love her. I know you did. Or do. Anyone with firing brain cells can see that. You were at PTA meetings with her. You corralled us when she was sick so she could get some sleep. You’d call ahead to restaurants to make sure her allergy wouldn’t be a problem. You love Mom. It’s clear. But what if I don’t want mundane love?”

“It comes with a price. What you want is not easy,” Calum answers. The response falls without hesitation off his tongue.

“Eve, you have to let me in,” Calum returns. He’s gripping the side of the kitchen counter, trying to keep his voice from rising. Yelling does not solve problems. Yelling only creates a shouting match--and boy, are they good at those.

“I am. I am letting you in.”

“Where’s Duke?”

“With the dog sitter--I had to go.”

“Go where?”

“You know where.”

Calum’s fingers curl around and he’s quick to fix his fist back to an open palm. “No, I don’t. I don’t know where you had to go. Because the dog sitter didn’t say that in their text.”

“I left a note,” Eve counters.

Calum snatches the note off the counter. “Cal--Had business to attend to. Texted the dog sitter and Duke’s with her. I may be gone for a while. Love you.”

Eve stands cooly at the entrance of the kitchen. She’d left a note. She’d gotten Duke to the sitter’s house like they agreed when she had to leave for business and wouldn’t be back quickly.

“That’s the note you left?” Calum questions tossing the single sheet of paper back onto the counter. “How am I supposed to know where you’ve gone?”

“You know where I’m going.”

“You’re always gone. Always,” Calum returns. He was used to him having to leave. He was supposed to leave. It was a part of his job.

“Calum, I have to leave to conduct my business.” Eve bites back the retort that he knows she has to leave. It’s not going to make the situation any better. She takes a step closer--not daring to touch Calum, but to let him know that she is here now.

“Why? Why do you have to leave? Stay here with me. Give up your title. Stay here with me, please.” Calum hates how quickly the facade crumbles. He wanted to be pissed. He wanted to have a screaming match with her to prove to both of them that as much as they were supposed to be destined for each other it was already just a thin veil of toxicity. Calum had seen and been a part of his fair share of toxic relationships. He was over them. Sometimes he wished either it was a bad dream he’d wake up from or Eve really was playing games with his heart. But he can’t do that. The truth of the matter is that he loves her too damn much to want to be consistently at odds with her.

“I’m sorry I leave all the time.”

Calum steps out to the side, out of Eve’s path. “Say you’re going to stay with me. I know you can give it up. Don’t you want to be with me?”

“I do want to be with you.” Eve’s heart thunders in her chest. He’s going to ask it--the one question no one else had dared ask because she never really let them ask. “What can I do to show to you that I want to be with you?”

“You can give it up--stop playing in His game.”

“Is-is there something else?” Eve questions. She nearly pleads that he demands her to do anything else.

A new fire lights behind Calum’s gaze and where sadness had rained on the initial flare of anger her question lights a new spark. He closes the distance and though he’s breathing is heavy, his hold on her face is gentle. His eyes flicker over her face, taking in the color of her eyes, the moles scattered about her face. A gorgeous sight, Calum knows all too well. But there’s something new to be unearthed. He watches her blinks and the lower lip wobbles. There--there it is. “You don’t know who you are without it, do you?”

Eve shakes her head in his grasp. The tears prickle behind her eye. Her stomach turns a bit with disgust. “No, I don’t. I’ve been like this for so long. I barely remember the before.”

“Let me show you. I don’t know who you were before, but I know you right now. Let me show who you can be if you just give it up.”

It’s all so simple to him. Eve knows it’s not. She can give it up. But the second she does, she’s on a ticking time bomb. She won’t have long. And even if she did beg and plead, her renouncement of her faith all those years ago would surely be used against her. But she wants to give it to Calum--everything he’s desired. But she can’t give it all to him.

“Please, Calum.”

It is a full sentence. And he only sighs and drops his hands from her cheeks. She’s not going to give it up. He wanted her to, but she didn’t. He nods. “Can-can we just take a time out?” Calum asks. He’s not done with this conversation yet. But he can feel his own throat closing up--too many emotions squeezing at his chest.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eve nods, wiping her cheeks. He’ll go to the music room. She’ll go to the garden. It’s where they always go.

As Eve watches Calum shuffling towards the back of the house, her chest aches. He hadn’t gotten what she’d asked. She wanted him to show her who she is. Perhaps, it is for the better that he doesn't. But she wishes, as she settles onto the bench in the middle of her hostas, that Calum heard what she was asking for in between the lines, to please show her who she really is.

Perhaps, she’d never be good at letting him in in ways he’d recognize.

Calum wishes he could pour his memories into Māra’s brain. He can’t. All he has are his actions and his words. “You can have a much easier life,” he pleads. The rest of the sentence doesn’t fall, but it bashes against his teeth, if you just listened to me for once.

Māra gives a nod, knowing the look in her father’s eyes--the one where he looks like he’s worried and it bleeds into every ounce of his face. It makes her stomach hurt because she knows it’s from such a genuine place. The moment hangs between the three of them like a curtain billowing in a breeze. They can all see the fluttering but do nothing to stop it. So there it hangs and hangs, and hangs.

“What about you?” Māra asks. Eve just barely recognizes the question is for her before Māra continues on, “Did you want Dad to leave? Do you want him back?”

“Thorough, I see,” Eve grins before exhaling deeply. “I wanted the story I always knew; I wanted the comfort of what is inevitable. I filed the notion for divorce after bringing it up to your father. It was easier to let something go if I was cutting the rope. But as selfish as I was, I-I know the frustrations I caused. I want him to be happy. And I want to only hurt him twice. I’ve gotten my first strike. I hope this is my last time.”

“Eve?” Calum questions, reaching across the table. She slides her hands down into her lap. “No-you don’t. No.” Calum remarks. It’s the same thing she did when she asked about the divorce. “You don’t get to leave me and expect me to just be okay with it. Not again. You can’t keep making choices for me. You won’t. I told you you can’t keep playing the martyr.”

“Is it playing if no one is pretending?”

“I should’ve popped popcorn instead of having ice cream,” Māra whispers.

It’s the sound of her voice that brings Calum back to earth. “I’m not a child,” he adds softly to Eve. “Let’s talk about it--together-- anyone decides anything.”

It’s not supposed to go like this. It’s not. Eve’s not supposed to get a shot like this. It never happens. She has her lovers for a few fleeting years and then they want more. They leave her. She lets them. They call her on death beds. She comes--if any of them called, she came. Which is why she is here. Because Calum called her. He asked her to come here. But she’s not supposed to get another stretch with him. It would never work.

It’s on the tip of her tongue. It’s burning into the enamel of her teeth, You’re getting older. I am standing still. Eve only nods, hands still in her lap. “Okay.” There are very moments of peace. But Eve’s simple response--the one word--brings a stillness to the room yet again. She drifts her gaze to Māra, who quickly looks away. “You should definitely pop some popcorn,” Eve teases.

Māra snorts at the jab. “That was supposed to be an inside thought.”

“Whoops,” Eve laughs. “Is-is there anything else you want to know, Māra?”

So enveloped in the exchange of her father and Eve, Māra hadn’t thought to contemplate further. She is curious about what Eve does exactly and she’s curious if Eve really means all the things she said, but so far, Eve felt honest. Māra obviously only had her father to back up anything Eve had said. But her gut is settled--Eve is an honest woman, blunt sometimes but always honest.

Māra shakes her head. “Not right now. But thank you. For coming here and answering the questions I did have. If-if I have more, is it okay for me to get your number from Dad?”

Eve nods. “If you want me to answer anything else, please get my number from him. Or better yet,” Eve pauses and she spies a pen clearly left on the table from some other task and grabs a napkin from the holder. She scribbles down the ten digits. “I may be slow to answer sometimes. I’m not always…within service, you could say. But I will see it--the call or the text eventually. Texts are better for me, but do whatever you prefer.”

Māra takes the napkin with a nod. “Thank you. I’ll let you know it’s me when I text or call.” She goes to go exit, halfway turned to the table, but she thanks Eve one last time for coming by and with one over the shoulder glance to Calum--to which he gives a nod--Māra picks up her laptop and moves back to stairs. She takes them two at a time to the top and it’s quiet in the kitchen until her door closes.

“We spent how many years together? And you still want to act like I’m unable to fathom the consequences of my actions,” Calum states with a little bit of vile in his tone. He pushes up from the table and rinses the bowl Māra left behind so it doesn’t get sticky. As he pauses at the sink, Calum exhales. “And we’re doing it--again. Going around the same wheel.”

Eve’s slow as she pushes up from the table. Her steps are soft on the hardwood floor. Where she’d previously held back, Eve slips one hand onto Calum’s side. He’s a little softer than she remembers, of course. They were in the height of his youth. Of course as the years trail on, the weight’s settled more and more. But Eve likes it--she likes how his flesh molds around her hold. “You weren’t. I wasn’t expecting you to call when you did. I had you pegged like the others. You’d grieve your wife, the mother of your children, until the end and only then when you were scared that you’d be leaving this earth next you’d have one of your children call out for me.”

Calum nearly whimpers at Eve’s touch. Her touch had always been so sure and confident. She’d always touched him like she dared him to question it and Calum never did. He couldn’t bring himself to. “It’s lonely. After we agreed to end things, I had to learn how to be alone. I-call me stupid or reckless, I don’t want to be alone again. I only get one life and goddamn, I’m not about to spend it regretting something.”

Eve presses into his flesh. It’s an action to beckon Calum to face her. But he doesn’t. He clutches the edges of the counter. So Eve slides her second arm up and over his waist, her fingers thread on his stomach. “I’m sorry,” she whispers into his clothed back.

Her voice makes his spine shiver and Calum drops his head on his neck. Her kiss is warm on his spine and Calum’s throat is tight. He’s missed this--missed someone touching him so gently. He’s missed having someone.

He’s missed Eve.

“We can work something out,” Calum whispers. His eyes sting with the tears finally free to shed. “The kids--it’s going to take a minute I know. But I need you for me.” Calum pushes up and Eve gives him space to face her. She wipes at the tears on his cheeks. He holds her waist--and God, she’s still the same in his arms.

“Do you remember when--oh, it’s been years now-- but you asked me to give this all up?” Calum nods at Eve’s question. “And you figured out the truth--I don’t know who I am if I’m not the Devil. But you begged--you begged me to show me who I was beneath it all. That ring a bell?”

Calum remembers it clearly. “Sounds like us. And you essentially shot down the idea.”

Eve shakes her head. “No. I was telling you to show me who I am. But I didn’t have the right words. I didn’t know how to say it. I was agreeing with you--something I’m sure is a shock.”

Calum’s laughter rumbles through his chest. The lines on his face are a little deeper as he smiles with the action. “You were reluctant to admit that sometimes.”

“I still don’t know what I’m really meant to do outside of this mantle. But I know I don’t want to give it up. I like this, I’ve learned. It’s shitty work sometimes--dealing with some of the nastiest folks on this planet. But I walk Earth a lot more now than before. I can help them before it’s too late. I get to make a change and I’m everything He’s said to despise. I like knitting. Can you believe that? Me, knitting,” Eve laughs at the confession.

“Please tell me you’re knitting more than socks,” Calum teases.

“Maybe I am,” Eve retorts.

“What else are you doing then? Are you still raising hell for poor folks in bars with your feminine wiles?”

Eve chuckles, but shakes her head. “No, not right now.” In the future, she’d have to start over with someone new. She’d have to put herself in just the right spot to be spotted again. She’d spend months on the hunt, but she doesn’t have to do that right now. “See--that’s the problem.”

“What is?” Calum tucks some of her hair behind her ear. Only on the right side though. She liked leaving the left out. His fingers are soft as they trail down the skin of her jaw. “What’s the problem?”

It’s so easy to give in. When Calum’s holding her close and she can smell the scent of his fading cologne and detergent, Eve’s weak. He’s her achilles heel. Eve’s glad only the two of them know that. She’s glad for the moment she can melt away and drop her head to his chest. Calum cradles the back of her head, the black strands, slipping easily through his fingers. He rests his cheek on the top of her head. God, even her shampoo is the same, Calum realizes.

“The problem is that I-I don’t know how to do this, being me outside of the mantle all the time. Will you help me?”

The question makes the air in Calum’s throat catch--he had not expected Eve to give in so easily after she’d just stated that she was willing and wanted to leave. He cranks his head up and hers back to get a solid look at her. “Please tell me you mean that.”

It only takes three words for Calum’s chest to spasm in relief. “I mean it.”

*************************

They don’t meet outside of Calum’s house or property initially. At first, it’s in the dead of the night when Calum’s sure the kids are all asleep or they are all out when Eve comes over. It starts innocently at first--a conjuring of a list with all the things Eve thought she might like but hadn’t really given herself enough space to try--needle punching, skydiving, brewing beer. It’s a silly list. Calum laughs as he fixes them tea or something heavier for the night as Eve considers the youth she never had. She contemplates comics and boardgames.

But the touches linger longer. It gets easier to flirt like they used to. The goodbye kisses turn into greeting kisses. The greeting kisses turn into just because kisses. The act of falling in love a second time feels faster and slower than the first time. But they’re okay with it. It lands them all here, Eve standing at the coffee pot. She liked having a cup of something warm in her hands—a grounding sensation though it might seem counterintuitive. Calum holds her from behind, pressing gentle kisses over her neck. She giggles at the sensation of the beard he’s let grow in scratch the skin of her neck.

“I’m going to spill this creamer if you don’t quit it,” Eve returns through her laughter.

“I won’t tell Cailean.” The voice startles both Eve and Calum. Calum pulls away, reacting as if fire sparked suddenly around Eve and Eve’s grip slips on the small cup of creamer. It lands on the tile floor of the kitchen with a wet thud. “He’d be crushed,” Kiri smiles. He leans into the arch of the doorway.

“It’s not--” Calum starts.

Kiri shakes his head interrupting his father’s explanation. “It surely looks like it and I hate to intrude, but I’d like a cup if it’s not decaf.”

“Sure,” Eve nods. “Yeah.” She spins back to the pot and takes the mug she’d just poured for herself and offers it up. “Clearly, I haven’t added anything yet to it. It’s all over the floor. How many creamers?”

“None,” Kiri returns, stepping in to take the extended mug. “Sorry again.”

“No worries,” Eve states and starts to clean up the creamer she dropped. It’s a miracle that it was only the small travel cups Calum had and not a whole bottle. Kiri grins at his father as he exits. Calum huffs and gently swats at his arm. The two share a quick tuft of laughter and Calum starts to help Eve.

“I got it,” she returns. “Save your knees.”

“I know I’m sixty, but God, I’m not that old.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

The pair work in relative silence but Eve feels the shiver crawling up her back. Her head pops up just as a roll of thunder sounds overhead. It’s a sound Calum knows all too well. He gets the handful of the paper town he had in his hand into the trash, which were drying the wet spot Eve made to keep the floor from getting sticky, before standing. Eve’s up not too soon after him. Calum takes her forearm into his grip. His thumb strokes her skin. “Be safe, okay?”

“I will be.”

“Text me when you’re done, back on this side, please.”

Eve nods. “I will.” She wants to let Calum have this tender moment, but she’s aware that Cailean and Māra could also be awake. She also doesn’t want to wait too long and have another crack of thunder to startle them. She stretches up, capturing Calum’s lip in a gentle kiss, and then she’s rushing from the kitchen, out the front door. The door closes softly. Calum straightens out the rest of the kitchen and knows he has to retire soon lest he be in for a reckoning in the morning.

In the morning, a text is already waiting for Calum 2:31 AM--Safe, but this one is nasty. Will be gone for a few days.

I understand. Take care of yourself out there. Calum lets the text send and does his best not to wait for a response. Whether she left immediately or whether she wanted for a response can’t stop Calum from the things he has to do. He’s got breakfast to get sorted. Cailean and Māra both need rides to school. Kiri’s in his first year of community college and can get to and from the house and classes with the second car. Cailean’s working on his license, but the responsibility was still Calum’s to shoulder for now. Even if the nights are filled with Eve and his ghost of his youth, the days are still filled with fatherhood.

It shocks Calum that he’s not shocked when three days later his phone shakes again and it’s Eve. Calum had anticipated the days would worry him sick, but instead all he did was hope for her safety in the stillness. Perhaps his worry is overshadowed by the ever marching sadness of his own. Three days to come and he would’ve been celebrating yet another wedding anniversary. Kelsie would no doubt want to try some new cookie recipe. It would fail because Calum would be too distracted. Kelsie would laugh. They would be happy. Calum’s own goal is just to make it through each day. That’s all he needed to do.

He only wanted to know when she came back she’d bug him undoubtedly about something else to knit or do. It could offer distraction. It would remind Calum that there is still love for him. His flame with Eve was comfortable but the years and love with Kelsie are not easily let go either. Besides, Eve’s absence is not a sign of anything other than duty. Eve didn’t know the dates and she couldn’t neglect her job either. Eve’s absence is just as filling as her presence. Calum wants her close, but can let her go. Just as he wants when she is on his side, he wants when she is not, but there’s less selfish desire.

Back. Let me know when you’re free. Please.

Calum goes to start his reply that he’ll be free in the afternoon, but before his fingers can hit the first keys, Māra and Cailean start a shouting match. Calum slips his phone into his back pocket and slides out from the kitchen. “Whoa, do I need to referee here?” he offers, noticing between them the last bites of their breakfast. Both of them have a grip on the ends of the banana. He’s left out one banana, some cut up strawberries mixed in with blueberries and an orange. Cailean almost always goes for the banana whereas Māra tends to go orange.

“I had it first,” Māra barks over to Cailean.

Calum, noticing the glint on his boy’s face, steps in closer, one hand resting on Cailean’s shoulder. Though he’s always respectful, and will do what is necessary to help, he’s quick when he’s angry to make quips that he knows are hurtful. “Son, please don’t. There’s a whole bunch in the kitchen.”

Cailean lets go of the fruit but doesn’t tear his gaze away from Māra. “Stop meddling,” he hisses in return.

Calum raises a brow. What had Māra been meddling in? “Māra,” Calum offers sternly. It’s a silent command to explain herself and she knows it.

Māra sighs. “You like her, you idiot. I’m just trying to help.”

Cailean huffs, arms tossed up into the air. “You--Just stay out of it! Please.”

“But I’m right, aren’t I?” Māra presses on.

“Just because you are doesn’t mean you should get involved. Yvette--she’s untouchable to me, alright? The last thing she needs is my little sister--a freshman to my juniority-- approaching her. We have a week and half left of this project and you’ve just made the whole thing awkward. And to add to that, she’s already talking to Leonard. They’ve been talking since the summer.”

Calum knows Leonard--a kid Cailean has been friends with since they met on the playground at the seesaws. He remembers the smile on Cailean’s face when he made a friend on the second day of class that wasn’t his brother. The two of them could do damage. Cailean joked around, but always had brakes. Leonard did not. Once Calum got a call from the skate shop in the shopping center just a mile up the road about Cailean and Leonard sitting in the back office. The thing is that Cailean wouldn’t snitch on Leonard in the moment but when they got off with a stern warning thanks to Cailean’s sincere apology for the package of socks, Cailean folded in the car. He told Calum that he’d been trying to talk Leonard out of lifting the skate socks. And their argument had gotten them caught in the first place. It caused a rift but the boys recovered fast. Leonard is all gas. Cailean has the brakes.

Even though Māra wouldn’t have that information, she would know how close Cailean and Leonard are. Talking to the girl your best friend likes that you like too would be a definite no. “Oh,” she states.

“Yeah, yeah, exactly that.”

“I thought--”

“I know what you thought, Mar. Sometimes you don’t know everything. They call it pining for a reason.”

Māra holds out the banana. “I’m sorry Cailean. I shouldn’t have gotten involved, not without talking to you first. Do you want me to talk to Leonard?”

Cailean’s eyes widen so much that they nearly take over his forehead. If it weren’t for the true terror in his face, it might be funny. “No. Absolutely not. I’ll do the damage control.”

Māra only nods. Her third apology is softer than the first two and Cailean waves for her to keep the fruit. He settles on the orange instead and as quickly as the explosion occurred, the debris settles and clears. Calum retreats, going back to the last of the dishes he had while he prepped breakfast then gets them off to school. Calum heads straight over to the studio after he sees off, intending to finalize the last few takes he’d left from the day before.

By the time he thinks to check his phone again, noon has crept into 1 PM and he realizes his response to Eve had never been drafted, let alone sent. Calum pushes away from the turkey sub on the table. He hadn’t even meant to leave her without a response for so long. The rest of the guys watch him as he goes. Ashton reaches over and wraps the sandwich backup in case he’s gone for longer than a moment.

Calum holds the phone to his ear, listening to the ringing and ringing. There’s some static but as he steps outside into the bright day the sound clears up. He prays he hasn’t missed her totally. Though Eve had gotten good at communicating about when she had to go even if it’s back to back, there were a few times when she hadn’t been able to shoot off that quick text. Right on the fifth ring, when Calum’s set to hang up the call and respond with a text, the line connects.

“Eve speaking.” Her voice cracks just a little on the phrase.

“Eve? It’s me, Calum. I say this with love you should like shit.”

“Hey. Yeah, it was a particularly rough one.”

The truth about rough ones is that they happen all the time. Eve’s used to rough ones. But this one feels different than the others. She’d gotten there with Death, right at the start. Normally, a lot of what she did was after the fact. Death had already carried them to her or to Heaven. They’d already made some peace with their fate. But Death had gotten the call right as they were supposed to be wrapping up. So Eve went too--it made sense. She would go with Death. They’d handle whomever they needed and Eve would carry on with her life, like she’s always done.

But cradling a child--attempting to soothe them as their parents teetered on the edge between clinging to life and falling into death was not something Eve had been prepared for. She’s seen vile humans, pissed that their actions had consequences. She’s had to take parents who thought their actions to their children wouldn’t warrant a visit and condemnation to her. She’d handled a lot of evil-pure and simple evil. But she hadn’t quite had to hold a child in years, not like this. Eve hadn’t had to soothe a baby--months old--fearful of its new fate, not understanding what had gone on.

And all Eve had were lies. All she could tell him was that he was okay. He wasn’t hurt anymore. He had nothing to cry about. His parents would love him forever. He was okay. All Eve could tell him were lies. She felt her only saving grace was that he’d never fully understand. He’d never understand that they were lies. He’d find a new normal. He’d have his parents when it was their time, but in the interim he’d have something free of pain. He’d adapt.

But how does a child comprehend that? A silver lining that will only ever take time and his time, a baby months old, has run out.

“I-” Eve’s voice breaks again.

“Where are you? I can get you,” Calum offers. His chest constricts. It is not good. Whatever it is is definitely not good.

“I’m actually at the back of your studio. When you called, I, uh, realized where you were.” Eve doesn’t dare say that she went looking. She searched for Calum in the hopes he’d answer her text soon and found him initially with his kids. So she waited. She watched him come to the studio. Her fingers ached from how tightly she held her phone, a silent prayer and begging that he just looked at his phone for longer than a second, that he went back to their text messages and saw she was asking for him. She didn’t want to push. Her heart ached for him though. She wanted nothing more than comfort and from Calum alone. But she wouldn't intrude.

Calum pushes off the wall. He slips the phone onto his shoulder and jogs back into the building. “Stay where you are. Are you in the alley?”

“Yes.” It crackles as Eve answers and Calum jogs past the kitchen. The shout of his name doesn’t stop him as he works down the hallway. He passes the elevators, side doors, and windows. Calum continues on, listening to the sniffle of Eve through the receiver. Eve’s never quite sounded like this. She managed to keep those things separate. She somehow managed to see horrors on a daily basis and never quite let it fully seep through. Until now.

Now something is cracking in Eve and she can’t stop it. Calum’s heart beats in his chest, he can feel it against his ribs. He’s not sure if he’s running to stop the dam from bursting or if he’s going to be cleaning up the waters seeping through. But he realizes as the gray doors fill out in front of him, it doesn’t matter which one he gets. He’s going to be there no matter what. Calum slams his palms into the silver handle, the harsh click echoes through the speakers and as the doors swing open, Eve fills out in front of him.

He manages just barely to get his phone down from his shoulder and into his back pocket. Her eyes are a twinge red. Her cheeks are mostly clear, but it’s clear fresh tears are on her lower lash line.

“Can I just have a hug?” Eve asks.

Calum pulls her into the building, arms wrapping around her. Her face presses into his chest and she inhales, so deeply it lifts Calum’s arms with the action. “Hey, I’m here. It’s alright. It’s okay.”

There it is again--the same lie she had to tell. The sob falls from her chest, muffled by the firmness of his chest and the t-shirt.

Everything Calum can think to do, a soothing hand along her spine, kisses to the crown of her head, a gentle hum and reassurances, don’t fully cut through the tears. Eve doesn’t shake. It’s not a crumble. It doesn’t seem like she’s trying to stop it. It’s like she only needs a reason to let it out, to let it go. So Eve stands, voice cracking as everything she’d been biting back breaks free, and she clings to Calum, but she never crumbles.

“C’mon, Eve, just breathe for me.” After a few minutes of the wails turning into hiccups, Calum knows he’s got to get Eve to regulate her breathing. If not, she’ll start dry heaving and though he’s dealt with his fair share of vomit, he does not want to have to deal with it. He inhales deeply through his nose and lets it all out through his mouth. He inhales once more to blow it all out and on the third breath, Eve joins in. He continues with the inhales and exhales until the grip Eve has on his shirt loosens.

“I-I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Calum returns. He presses his cheek to the top of her head. The thump of his own heart still feels rapid—like he can’t quite come down from the edge he’d pulled Eve from. So he squeezes, letting her own deep inhales brush against his chest. Perhaps that too will remind him that they’re both okay now.

“I-Admittedly, I did sort of follow you. I kept hoping you’d see my text again.”

The confession is only a whisper but Calum hears it, a quick snort leaving his nose. “You should’ve just called, babe.”

“You seemed busy.”

It’s not the time to remark that this is the same behavior they went around in circles on last time. Instead, Calum gently urges her head back. Her cheeks are tear stained. Her eyes are swollen and red. “Being busy and taking a few minutes to answer a call are not mutually exclusive. When you tell me you need me, I can help. If you don’t, I won’t know for certain.”

“I’m doing it again. I know. I just—call it a self fulfilling prophecy. I’m used to being able to handle this kind of stuff.”

Calum strokes a thumb along the apple of her left cheek. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“He-,” her chin wobbles in Calum’s palm. Eve inhales and it steadies her a bit. “He was just a baby. 4 maybe 5 months old. I held him. He cried. But of course he did. Car accident. He wanted his parents but they weren’t...” The silence says what Eve doesn’t. Calum nods that he understands. The baby’s parents weren’t dead yet. He couldn’t have them in the way that he might’ve wanted.

Eve continues on at the confirmation.“Not then anyway. And he wouldn’t come with me but I was the only one with hands free so I held him. Nothing I did soothed him. And I lied to him. I lied to a little baby because what do you tell them? When they are watching but can’t understand what do you tell them?”

Calum blinks. Part of him assumed that with time she’d gotten used to this. But the more he listens the more he thinks no one with one iota of feeling could ever get used to children being involved. Adults were one thing—fully formed beings with abilities hopefully to understand right from wrong. But children—babies especially—were different. They didn’t know. They couldn’t. They were still learning. “And you don’t normally interfere at that point do you?”

Eve shakes her head. “No. Either they come to me or if they’re being stubborn I’ll get them but in the midst when fates are hanging on by threads, no.”

Calum can only think of pulling her in. He seals another kiss to the top of her head. “I’m sorry you went through that. You did what you thought was best and I think that’s brave in and of itself.”

Eve inhales deeply. Her nostrils are filled with a scent distinctly Calum--his detergent which she’s pretty sure is the Gain he’s used for years, the faint catch of nicotine, and his cologne. The mixture invades her nose, clinging to the inches inside her nostrils. “Sorry,” Eve mutters again into his chest. “For not just texting you again.”

“Next time, you’ll get it next time,” Calum offers. It’s not dismissive. He means it like a promise, like there will be a next time. Like he wants there to be a next time. He cradles the back of her head, fingers threading ever so slightly between the strands. “What are you doing for the rest of the day?”

“I-When do you have to get back to your kids?”

Calum laughs, mostly an exhale through his nose. His lips find the crown of her head above before he coaxes her gently out from his chest. Her face is still red and a little puffy. One hand finds her cheek and Calum strokes his thumb over the warm flesh. “You don’t have to be polite, Eve. What are you doing for the rest of the day?”

“I--” The stern lift of Calum’s brow freezes Eve. “Nothing that I know of, of course.”

“The guys and I are mostly just writing. Though I think one piece might need another tracking. Would you want to stay with me? The kids all have things they’re doing. Māra’s got a sleepover and she’s getting a ride with them. Insisted on packing her bag last night to take to school today. Cailean’s got a standing date with some friends on Friday nights. He’ll be back later. Kiri’s almost always out. I think he only uses the house to eat, shit, and shower.”

“Can I stay just until you head home?” Eve whispers.

“You can stay with me for as long as you need.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Are you hungry?”

Eve shakes her head as much as she can with Calum’s palms still pressed into her cheek. “No, no I’m not hungry.”

Calum nods. “Okay. C’mon. Let’s get some cold water on your cheeks; that okay?” He only gets a nod but when he grips Eve’s hand, she squeezes back. He leads them back to the bathrooms--a gender neutral option right next to the women’s. Calum doesn’t miss the swift movement from the corner of his vision. No doubt it’s the guys. He hadn’t really discussed with them how much he had been in contact with Even. They’d surely learn it today though.

Inside the bathroom, Calum turns the cold water on before grabbing a couple handful of paper towels. They’re thin and will undoubtedly soak all the way through, but they’ll have to do. Calum is quick, the water touches and not even a full two seconds later, he pulls the paper out. Eve stands, hovering a few inches behind him. Her irises are purple in her reflection when Calum gazes up, as they’ve always been. But it’s in the reflection that Calum realizes for once the tiredness in that glaze of her eyes.

“Come,” he offers quietly. He nods, into the mirror, like he wants Eve to meet him their in the reflection.

She knows differently and approaches slowly from behind. Calum turns to meet her and she slots up against the sink. The paper towel drips onto her shirt--thankfully it’s black. Calum’s gentle as he can as he dabs her cheeks. “You did the right thing,” Calum whispers. “It’s the same thing I would’ve done.”

“Doesn’t mean it feels right.”

Calum smiles, one side of his cheeks lifting first. “No, sometimes the right thing feels wrong. What else were you going to do? Tell the poor baby he’s dead. He’s never going to see his parents again.”

“I would’ve been telling the truth.”

Calum tsks. “Rule one of the parenting rule book: you get to tell white lies.”

“At least one of us knows the rules.”

“Telling the truth all the time isn't easy. They’re not built for the truth all the time. Being an adult, regardless of parenthood or not, means we have to try and make this cruel world make the most sense for them. We have to figure out how to break it down for them. How do you explain cruelty to a child? How do you tell a child that just because something bad happens doesn’t mean there isn’t something good in it? Perhaps, the one thing being a parent has taught me is that some life lessons are shitty and there’s no easy way to learn them. He’s a baby. He wasn’t ready for that life lesson yet. But he got dealt that hand and you did the best you could for him. That’s the thing I need you to see. You did the best you could by that sweet baby because you saw him in the middle of a life lesson much too cruel for him.”

Calum wants to say more. It burns the tip of his tongue that she would make a great mother. Even if she couldn’t physically bear children, she already had a natural instinct. But Eve isn’t ready for that. Calum’s never sure when she will be. But most definitely not right now. Calum tosses the soggy paper towels into the trash and then gingerly dabs fresh paper towels on her flesh to dry away the cool water.

Eve’s nails trail over his wrist as he takes hold of her chin and turns her head to the left. “You don’t…” she offers softly. Calum would regardless. He would do it anyway--that’s the beauty and tragedy of it all. They’d always do it for each other.

“I am,” Calum returns. It’s two words, but it carries with it the belly of their entire relationship.

It only takes one of them to call for the other and they’d answer. The call wouldn’t even have to be fully uttered either before feet would hit ground.

The walk back to the kitchen is short from the bathroom and Eve walks behind Calum the entire way. The boys rush to settle back into their seats, the feet of the seats scrape against the tile of the floor as they rush to settle. “You lot are not subtle,” Calum reprimands.

“We just--you ran out of here. Thought it might’ve been the kids or something,” Ashton returns.

Eve waves from behind Calum’s shoulder, one hand still in his grip. “Not quite his kids.” Eve’s not sure what she expected. Perhaps she was bracing for the side eyes. Maybe she was even anticipating them to shout at her for breaking Calum’s heart thirty years ago. But none of that happens. It’s uneasy--they look at her, then to Calum, and then amongst themselves attempting to decode what is truly happening in front of them. But no one is openly hostile. They stand, or sit, in a hanging inbetween.

“If I didn’t know better, I would’ve said you made a deal with the devil, Eve,” Ashton teases. His laughter is light. “No way it’s been some thirty years or something like it.”

“Could say the same for you,” she laughs. Leave it to Ashton--a comedian even when it might get him in trouble. But Eve’s grateful for the breaking of the ice. Michael offers up his seat for her to take so she’s next to Calum and she declines with a shake of her head. “Thank you though.”

The decline is clearly not enough because Calum guides her to his previous spot. His offering is silent, but firm. He pulls the chair out and his eyes say it all. Eve settles into the chair, turning a question over to the guys about what they’ve been up to since they last spoke.

“Same old same old,” Luke laughs. “You’d think we'd have something more exciting to say but I’m sure you’re the one that has more exciting stories.”

Eve shakes her head. She can feel the waiver of her own smile. “I fear sometimes it might be too exciting.” A bottle of water settles down in front of her, Calum’s tattooed hands sliding out of her vision by the time she catches the movement. “Thanks,” she returns softly to him.

“Of course,” Calum returns, hands sliding now to her shoulders. He squeezes and she settles back into the chair a little bit more. “Besides, Luke’s too ashamed to talk about the bike he bought. Wife is still pissed about that one, buddy.”

“You bought a motorcycle?” Eve questions before taking down a large sip of water.

“Call it a mid-life crisis,” Luke huffs.

“More like a three-fourths life crisis,” Michael jokes. “Half our lives were like ten odd years ago.”

“Ouch,” Luke laughs, hand rubbing at his chest right over his heart. “You’re a killer.”

Eve asks about their children: Micheal’s only, Luke’s twins, and Ashton’s five. All of the men wear pride on their faces as they talk--from robotics club to theater, all of them are figuring out their lives to which their fathers could never be more proud. The remainder of their lunch passes in a comfortable sway of silence and occasional quips. Eve tries to offer Calum back his seat so he can finish his food. He declines, taking the sandwich and standing up against the window behind the table.

The studio has a couch, computer chairs and other seating arrangements sprawled across the spacious entry. The booth is a bit tinier, but the room squeezes in a comfort that reminds Eve of the way Calum’s old house used to feel. The warm browns and oranges sooth the still buzzing electricity in Eve’s veins. She perches herself into the couch, right up against the right arm and Calum settles next to her. His arm drapes over her shoulder. A squeeze, his palm pressed into her bicep. Eve goes, following the directive without much thought as she leans into Calum’s side, head not quite resting into his shoulder. Calum’s laughing at something Michael said but he coaxes her, a hand sliding to her neck and jaw to finish the movement and have her relax fully into him. Eve settles her head onto his shoulder. Her nose brushes at his throat when she looks up. Like Calum can feel the gaze he glances down.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. “It’s alright.” It’s alright to trust me again. It’s alright that I trust you again. It’s alright that you needed me. It’s alright when I need you. Calum doesn’t say any of this. He feels like he doesn’t need to when Eve turns just a little. Her knees draw up, arms wrapping around his torso. He needs Eve to need him and want him too. And she did--she had to in order to so desperately wish for him to check his phone.

She can lean into him. But she must also speak. Clearly and directly. No half finished sentences, no silent pleading. Eve had lifetimes to build the habit and Calum’s only hope is that she won’t need his whole lifetime to break it.

As evening gives its first warning of its descent, the guys disband for the day. The songs are in a place where they too can rest for a night. In all their years, they’ve learned the art of rest. Rest, too, is a powerful tool with creation. At the doors for the studio, Calum and Eve stand hand in hand a few feet shy of the piercing reality. She’d only asked for the day before he left. Would she want more?

“Would you like to come over for dinner?” Calum asks.

Eve swallows at the question. She really doesn’t want to intrude, but she doesn’t want to let go either. “Yes, as long as you’re sure I won’t be in the way.”

“You won’t. You won’t be in the way,” Calum assures.

“Yes,” Eve returns, “I’d like to come over for dinner.”

The house is silent when they arrive. The lack of cars in the driveway should’ve given it away, but when Eve steps in over the threshold there is a buzzing quietness. She’s more prepared to deal with his kids, questions, and even stares. But there is nothing though Calum’s voice is enough to cut through the silence. “Today was going to be a simple pasta bake. Is that good? I could order us something. But I don’t want the onions and peppers to go to waste, if I’m honest.”

“Pasta is fine,” Eve answers. “Would-would you like help?”

Calum turns, spotting Eve leaning into the archway between the dining room and the kitchen. He grins. “Absolutely I would love help.”

They are relatively quiet as they work. Calum directs on what he needs assistance with and Eve speaks only to affirm the instruction, or to warn Calum when she’s behind him. They don’t need too many words in this setting and when she gets the onion chopped fully she slides them in the other veggies being sauteed. Though Eve doesn’t know everything in this kitchen, she still remembers their system. Eve starts washing the dishes. Calum slips each piece ready to be washed next to her. She double checks nothing is burning while he goes to grab something from the pantry.

The heat of the oven swells between them. Calum slips the glass dish into the oven and Eve’s working on the last of the spatulas and pans to wash. They can feel, beneath the hot waft, the heat of each other too. An underlying pulse that Calum wishes to quicken. He slips behind Eve, hands settling on her waist. “You okay?”

She nods. “I think so. Just drained now mostly. Thank you. I haven’t said that and I should. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Calum returns, placing a kiss on her cheek.

“But I do.”

“In case you forgot, we are literally destined for each other.”

“So it’s destiny now?” Eve asks, letting the water go from the sink. The last of the dishes are now cleaned. Well until they eat. But those are dishes for another time. They are for worrying later about.

“You’re the only one that still calls it a curse,” Calum answers. “Is it fucked up how it has to happen? Absolutely. But I don’t think loving someone is a bad thing. I don’t ever regret you, Eve.”

She spins now. Calum’s eyes aren’t sad. They’re dark brown like they’ve always been and Eve swears she could fall through the velvety gaze. “I most certainly don’t regret you.”

“It’s sort of impossible to regret me,” Calum teases. It earns him a scoff and a light slap on his chest. He holds her hand there, both palms wrapped around her single. “I mean it more seriously though. I was angry when you wanted to divorce, but I also knew it would come. You wanted me to have a full life and as ready as I was to give it all up, I’m glad you did push. I still think it should’ve been more of a discussion.”

“Ah, okay, yes, it should’ve been,” Eve concedes.

“Curses should have more dread in them, don’t you think?”

Eve watches the way Calum inches in, hands taking her waist more solidly in their grips. “Calum,” she offers softly. Not quite a warning, but something like a plea. Here? Now? she is asking.

He relents, kissing her forehead and dropping his hands from her waist. “It’s just a question. But I would like an answer. Whenever you’re ready.”

Though Calum moves to the dining room, Eve stays at the sink. His fingers curl around the box--cigarettes--and his lighter. Eve’s voice shakes just a little on the first, “I think curses have dread. And I think curses also have a little bit of pleasure in them too. I just need more time to rediscover that pleasure. Like perhaps after sleep.”

Calum grins around the butt of his cigarette at the last part of her statement. He hadn’t thought she’d lost her physical attraction to him, but it is still a nice boost to confidence to hear it verbally. “You don’t need sleep last time I checked.”

“But you do. I need a little bit more time to shake through the jitters.” Eve pushes from the counter now, closing the distance between them. She plucks the nicotine filled paper from between his lips. “And you always said you’d quit when you had kids.”

“I’m a social smoker,” Calum returns. “Never around the kids and never by myself.”

“What sadness is your smoking buddy now?”

Calum shakes his head, eyes falling to the floor. He catches the green on Eve’s toes--a shimmery polish that looks like it has some sort of metallic reflection. He shouldn’t. Eve had needed him, not that he couldn’t voice his own needs but he didn’t want to unload on her when she was already dealing with her own things. He could call one of the guys. They’d always be happy to listen to him. Which is what he’d intended to do before Eve spotted it--the true reason for his insistence.

“Kelsie, isn’t it?” Eve deduces.

“I see those horns are still sharp,” Calum returns. He’s not paying attention, trying to steady his own breath. But he can reach rustling. Something gently brushes against his lips and he brings his gaze back into focus. The butt of a cigarette dangles in front of him. He continues up. Eve stands next to him, a cigarette between her lips too.

“Can’t have you smoking alone.”

“What happened to: it’s bad for me? It’s going to kill me?”

“Everyone dies. Something takes us out of the world eventually.”

“Not you.”

Eve snorts, before pulling her own cigarette free from her lips. “I was created. I can be destroyed too. I have loved too and I have been devastated by love too.” She brings back the cigarette she’d offered to Calum. “Take the smoke.”

The pair carry on down the hallway towards the backdoor. Calum leads the way and Eve follows behind, taking in the sights of all the kids in their picture day best. She pauses at a family vacation photo. Calum and Kelsie stand in the back. Māra’s tucked into Calum’s grasp--possibly five or so in the photo. Kiri and Cailean stand in front, grinning hard. She’s never seen the house they’re in front of. But she likes, as she imagines, that it might be his mother’s place they’re visiting. Kelsie’s laughing in the photo, grinning up at Calum. Calum’s smiling down at her too in return. It’s clear the photo was captured when they weren’t ready for it. Their skin looks sun kissed, a setting sun giving the photo a pink and red twinged hue.

“My mom took that photo,” Calum offers. He’d held the door open for Eve, and was momentarily shocked when she wasn’t directly behind him. “We’d been at the beach all day. Kiri and Cailean were sunburned terrible, but they were more than happy with themselves for catching a few waves.”

“Did you teach them?”

“Luke actually. I taught all of them how to swim. Sort of a combined family and band retreat.”

“Did Māra join in?” Eve asks, turning her attention away from the picture to Calum.

He nods, a small smile lifting his cheeks. “She caught one within her third try. Boys took nearly half an hour because they kept rough housing.”

“Life father, like sons.”

“Oh, I’m not that bad,” Calum laughs. “Not anymore at least.”

The question burns Eve’s tongue and she glances back up to the photo. She and Kelsie are distinct opposites--Eve’s dark skin and dark hair are starkly different from Kelsie’s paler skin. And Eve is by no means trying to compare the two of them. They were two vastly different people. “Did Kelsie take convincing?”

“Only took all three kids begging. But she got out there.” Calum catches the faint sound of Kelsie’s laughter in his memory.

“No, no,” Kelsie laughs. “I am not built for surfing.” She likes being tucked up on the shore. Her and Joy have been laughing amongst themselves, keeping the food safe in the coolers. Kelsie’s rather enjoyed rating all her children’s attempts--always higher than a 7, even on the harshest fails because they’re just so proud of themselves. Swimming, paddling, perhaps even snorkeling could intrigue her, but she is not a surfer.

“Please, Mom,” Kiri begs. “Dad will protect you! He always does.”

Calum stands behind Kiri, hands on the shoulder of his wetsuit. “Only if you really want to, Kels. You know that. But I’ll be right there.” It’d been a few years since Calum had really gotten on a board, but surfing was a skill akin to riding a bike. The second you got back onto it, everything came rushing back. Sure there were some mistakes, but it was still a skill that could resurface in time.

“Mom, please!” Cailean insists, panting a bit after sucking down several large gulps of his water. “It’s so much fun!”

“Mommy, please,” Māra chimes in from Joy’s lap. She’d retired there after her half an hour on the board.

Calum only watches Kelsie. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth. Her uncertainty is clear and when she looks up to Calum, he sees everything she’s asking. “I’ll be right there,” he assures. “I can’t promise you won’t fall, but I can promise I’ll help you up.”

“You better help me back up,” she laughs, but extends her hand out.

Calum helps her up, using the hand he has on her wrist to tug her flush against his body. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, the kids did it. It can’t be that bad.”

“You don’t have to,” he whispers against her lips. “Not in the slightest.”

“At least one attempt,” Kelise whispers back before capturing his lips in a true kiss. “At least once.”

Calum blinks. The hallway opens back up to his vision. Eve stands, watching him. There’s no judgment in her gaze, just an openness for him to share what he wants, feel what he needs to feel. Calum turns, back resting into the wall of the hallway. “I don’t even sleep in our bedroom anymore. Can’t,” he confesses.

“How long?” Eve asks.

“Since she died, really. Māra used to sleep on her side. Even now, sometimes when I come in from the guest bedroom to get clothes or something, Māra’s sitting on Kelsie’s side. Just doesn’t feel the same.”

“It won’t,” Eve states. “It won’t feel the same.”

Calum knew that--when he decided he wouldn’t move even though he wanted to, and when he asked for Eve to come over all those months ago, he knew it wouldn’t be the same. Perhaps it is selfish. It is selfish to wish that Eve could fill the void Kelsie had left. It is selfish to think either woman held the same place in his heart. But just because he knew it was selfish, doesn’t mean that common sense would override desperation. That’s what it is in his bones and the bags of his eyes. Calum is fucking desperate. He wants something to make him feel normal. But there is nothing normal about his life now. Not a single damn thing.

“Yeah,” Calum agrees. His throat is tight and his voice is thick as he speaks. “Yeah, I’m realizing that now.”

Eve takes his hand. It’s not to push him, not to force him to make any particular movement. In fact, she leans against the wall next to Calum and squeezes his palm. “It’s not an easy lesson,” Eve whispers.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

“Perhaps, it’s happened once or twice in my lifetime. But only once or twice.”

They both know the truth. They both know that more than once Eve’s faced what she’s grown to learn as normal or familiar changes on its face. They don’t need to say it. There’s no need. They both know, so much so that when Eve does finally give Calum’s hand a squeeze and his arm a tug, he follows. Calum follows Eve out to the backyard. They settle on his porch, sharing the same flicker of the lighter for their cigarettes.

Eve gets one inhale pressed into her lungs before she speaks. “These things will kill you, you know.”

“Something gets us eventually,” Calum returns.

***************************

Calum’s not sure what he expects when he lifts his head. The sheet is cold under his arm. When he fell asleep, he’d wrapped around Eve’s torso, clung to her like children do to baby blankets. But now there’s nothing in the bed besides the sheets and the pillow he’d grabbed at some point in his slumber. Eve had every right to leave if she needed to. There were no promises made. She hadn’t vowed anything to Calum. But he realizes now, with the sun streaking in from the blinds, he wishes she had.

The door creaks open and Calum turns, arms holding him up as he gets onto his back. Eve. She fills out in front of him the hem of his white t-shirt barely covering her to the tops of her thighs. It doesn’t help her the shorts she’s acquired somewhere in the time between them retiring to the guestroom from the mindless TV watching after their smoke and Calum waking also don’t cover more than a few inches of her thighs either. Calum makes out, even behind his bleary vision, something long in her hands. Calum pushes up even further, back pressing into the pillows. Eve settles next to his knees, getting the tray table over his lap.

“Scrambled, medium hard, right?” she asks. Not that she’d forget. She could never forget, but the question makes it better. She’s giving Calum room to grow, for things to have changed since she was last with him.

He nods. “Yeah, yeah that’s right.” Pancakes, eggs, waffles, bacon, and hashbrowns are spread out in front of him. She always went a little overboard on food when she cooked it. It used to annoy Calum. It’s less annoying than it was a feeling that no matter how many times Calum said to Eve she didn’t have to make a feast, she wouldn’t listen.

But now, as he has the tray more clearly in his focus, he spots two forks and two knives. Eve scoots the waffles closer to her before pushing the pancakes, bacon, and eggs towards Calum. It’s easy, Calum realizes, to assume nothing has changed. Especially since he’s been so long without Eve. His memory has them frozen in place, thirty years ago. Nothing could change for him about her, until they became a present reality. This is the evidence. Both their lives had continued since their last meeting. They’d both evolved.

“I’d asked how you slept,” Calum jokes, picking up the mug of coffee for a sip. “But something tells me you didn’t get a wink.”

“How’d you sleep?” Eve asks.

If Calum’s honest, it’s the best sleep he’s gotten in a year. Not that he had a reason to not be honest with Eve. But the confession feels much too deep for where they are. “Good,” Calum returns. “Really good.”

Their silence is comfortable as they take bites of food. Stolen glances, for Calum, over the rim of his glasses and for Eve, from between her lashes, lead to soft giggles into coffee and orange juice. They don’t need to say more, and yet if they really wanted to, they could. When they finish, Calum being the one to lag behind Eve, Eve collects the tray without a word. Calum follows behind her back up to the kitchen.

“Let me wash the dishes,” Calum commands. He tries to reach out for the tray as he walks side by side Eve now out of the hallway.

“I’ve got it,” Eve returns, pausing them just outside of the dining room. “Relax.”

“Thanks for breakfast.” Calum’s not sure why he’s not expecting Cailean’s voice to hit his eardrums. Him and his friends only really ever hung out during the evening and he was home most nights by eleven. He’d text if he was staying over or running late. As far as Calum knows, his phone is free of any of those texts. But still, the sound of his son’s voice does make Calum panic a little. His first reaction is to shield Eve, but then as the seconds pass and Eve slips out from behind Calum’s body, his brain finally processes what Cailean said.

“You’re welcome, Cailean.”

“Oh, I cleaned up what was left of the dishes too, by the way,” he continues on, reaching for the tray in her hands.

“Oh, I can clean these,” Eve smiles. “Thanks so much for the other dishes.”

Cailean nods, hands ducking back to his sides. “I mean, it’s the least I could do. I thought about what you said too. On the face of it, honesty is best. But Leonard and I--it’s not something I’d want to risk.”

Eve nods. “Perfectly reasonable given how long you two have been friends from what you said. Has Yvette said anything about what Māra told her?”

“I think everyone’s in the whole pretend like nothing happened and wait for things to just pass over play.”

Calum’s unsure of what transpired while he was still asleep. But he has to assume that at some point between Eve slipping out of the room and now, she and Cailean have talked. Calum was going to ask about what had transpired the day before. But now he’s unsure if he needs to. Though, part of him is glad. His kids do seem to be getting along with Eve--at least for Cailean and Kiri. Māra is a work in progress. He didn’t have to worry, too much anymore, about the fear of Eve and them being at odds. Perhaps, it is easier. All of his kids are older. Perhaps, their initial introduction though it had gone south proved useful. Eve had made it clear that she could never replace Kelsie and her goal wasn’t to somehow fill a void. No one would be able to do that. She was just Eve.

“Sounds like you want to pretend it never happened too,” Eve returns now to Cailean.

Calum settles at the head of the dining table, nodding over to Kiri as he settles. “Wild Friday night?” Calum teases.

“Seems like your Friday night was wilder than anything I could’ve gotten into,” he snorts, still shoveling down a forkful of eggs. Calum lets the retort go without rebuttal. There’s nothing he can say that will prove otherwise to Kiri. Not that Calum needs to prove anything on the face of it.

“I don’t want to start something if it’s not really a big deal,” Cailean concludes. He’s started moving the dishes that are dry into the cabinets to give Eve more space on the drying rack for what’s left.

The shake of Eve’s head tells Calum she’s debating. There are things she probably wants to say but worries that if she does, they’ll come out wrong. “I think,” Eve starts, turning the water off after rinsing out the coffee mug, “that you know Leonard better than anyone else in here. If he’s not raising an issue, then maybe it’s not one. But it might still prove useful to clear the air with Yvette. You said you two were working on a project. She’s also important here.”

Cailean sighs, stacking the silverware back into the correct slots of the drawers. “Yeah, but that’s just awkward too, right?”

Eve shrugs. “The whole thing is awkward, Cailean. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He laughs humorlessly. “Yeah, I would agree that Māra surely knows how to make a bad situation worse.”

“Oh, Māra’s young. She’s learning where the lines are. I’m sure Kiri’s got stories of you meddling in his business.”

“Yeah two weeks ago at the 18 plus bar,” Kiri cuts in. Cailean gets the last of the knives up and flips his brother off. “I told you those girls were there together.”

“You were the one that spotted them. If you had just kept quiet, I wouldn’t have had any need to approach.”

“The point being,” Eve interjects over Kiri’s not quite fully formed utterance and Cailean’s primed rebuttal. “You, Cailean, have done similar things to your siblings. Māra’s intentions were pure, even if her actions were misplaced.”

“Talk about misplaced,” Cailean mutters.

“Alright, Cai,” Calum interjects. He understands the annoyance, but the thing he doesn’t want is for Cailean to keep harping on the same point. Either he was actually going to accept Māra’s apology and move on to make it better for himself or he’s not. But Calum won’t stand for him being inconsistent. “She apologized. And even offered to fix the mistake.”

“You’re right, you’re right, Pops,” Cailean sighs. “Okay, I’ll talk to Yvette to let her know that she doesn’t have to worry or anything. Thanks, Eve.”

“Anytime,” she returns.

The scrap of Kiri’s chair causes Calum to turn his head to the sound. He collects his plate and utensils, carrying them back into the kitchen. “Thanks for breakfast, Eve.”

“You’re welcome, Kiri.” He hovers for a moment, sliding the plate onto the counter. “Your mind wouldn’t have changed even if I asked to wash my own dishes wouldn’t it?” The sigh Eve releases almost sounds like she might be really thinking about it. It would’ve been the third time one of them asked to take over the duty. But the answer comes when Eve slips his plate into the sudsy water. “Don’t think so. Maybe next time.”

“I tried,” Kiri laughs. “Pops, I’m going to be in the garage for a bit. I’m almost finished with the paint on the shelves.”

“Shelves?”

Kiri shakes his head at the question. “Have you not been in the garage the last few days? A friend wanted help building some shelves. You said we could use the garage.”

Calum works through his memory. He remembers when Kiri asked if they had power tools, which Calum does remember showing Kiri where they were. “I-,” Calum laughs. “It’s gone. But okay, thanks for the heads up.”

“Uh oh, Pops. Memory problems, don’t tell me you’re getting old,” Kiri laughs.

“You keep living long enough you’ll be in my spot sooner than you think. Do you need a hand with anything?”

“No, don’t think so. If I do, I’ll holler.”

“Sounds good.”

Cailean continues putting the clean dishes away as he dries them, though he doesn’t need to put them all away. He does so anyway, even extending a second offer to Eve if she needs help with anything else. Much like his first, Eve politely declines as she dries her hands from the dishes. The kitchen is silent. Not even Eve’s feet make a sound as she makes her way over to the kitchen table.

“Need me to stick around?” she asks quietly. Her nails drag just lightly through Calum’s hair, scratching ever so slightly at his scalp with the action. Last night and yesterday was a lot for both of them. She’s not sure if Calum’s in the mood for extended company or not. Eve would rather be clear on where his needs stand than assuming anything else.

Calum reaches out, one arm slipping around her waist. He urges her around to settle onto his thigh and she goes without a fight, perching on his lap. “I need to stop by the florist and cemetery if you’d be okay with joining.”

“You do realize you are asking me to visit your late wife with you, right? Wouldn’t that be scandalous?” Eve can’t bite back the tiny smile on her lips.

“Asking my current girlfriend, who also happens to be my ex-wife, to go with me to my dead wife's grave isn’t something I hadn’t fully thought would ever happen, so you know--scandalous or not, I’m asking. Will you join me? The boys will probably want to join too. They usually go with me. Just as a warning.”

“Is-is that why Māra’s out with friends?”

Calum nods, “We’ll see if she makes it through today. Sometimes, she can. Sometimes, she can’t.”

Māra always takes it the hardest and Calum never forces her to do anything that she’s not ready to do. Though it was only their wedding anniversary, it was a tradition that Calum and Kelsie tried to include the kids in the festivities to some extent. They always made time for themselves, but as their family expanded, asking a babysitter to care for three kids at the same time started to feel more and more like a chore and worry. It helps too that the boys were happy to watch the kids when needed. But it would be a venture for later.

“She’ll come around, find her way through,” Eve offers. It’s mostly in an effort to console Calum. He’d raised great kids, alongside Kelsie. Eve wants him to be proud, but it’s also not her place to downplay and belittle grief.

“She will. I still think she’s processing a lot,” Calum states. Without much thought, he drops his head into Eve’s chest, ear pressing right against her heart. The rhythm is almost normal. It beats slower than a human heart, he realizes. But he only seems to catch the slight difference because he keeps trying to time the thump he’s grown accustomed to, to Eve’s and her’s always seems to lag just slightly behind his time.

“How did she ever find out about me?” Eve means it harmlessly, a question more to ask what is Māra truly processing besides the death of her mother.

“I-I don’t know how she figured out what you are. She’d asked all the time why she was named after gardens. Kelsie would tell Mar, some variation that gardens being a place where pretty things grow and that Kelsie thought it would be beautiful to name her only daughter after a place where beauty grows from the inside. I don’t know. Mar’s always been curious. She loves getting to the root of something. I’d tell her that I wanted her to carry a piece of her culture with her. Perhaps it satisfied her. Maybe all it did was make her question why we both had different answers.”

“It’s reasonable to have different reasons for a name,” Eve interjects.

“Yeah, because we’re adults. We have reasoning. And it’s also rich, because it’s us. Of course, I can’t tell her because I wanted a piece of an old lover. I can’t tell my child the real reason because what if she thinks she’s somehow different. But it seems like maybe it didn’t matter in the long run.”

“It might,” Eve returns, pushing back some of Calum’s hair to plant a kiss to his hairline.

“I guess we never really know for sure. But, to get back to your question. About six months after Kelsie died, I finally got around to sorting through her things. The kids wanted some stuff; I kept some stuff. The whole house sort of got turned upside down and we’re digging out boxes that Kels and I haven’t touched in years, right? They want to help, so I let them and I think--I’m not certain though--I think she might’ve gotten into one of my old boxes. I packed up some old journals and photos. Some pictures of us were in the box and a journal. I kept the journal because of some of the stuff I wrote about. I didn’t want just anyone getting hands on it.”

“What kind of photos?” Eve asks.

“Our wedding day photos,” Calum admits softly. “So I had to come clean.”

“Calum,” Eve sighs. “Of all the things to keep.”

“Oh, sue me.”

“You’re lucky it’s not a sueable offense. It’s not a giant leap,” Eve notes. “Eve, the garden. Before she started piecing things together, were you ever going to tell her?”

That’s the question. It’s not Eve asking if Calum was going to tell his children, it’s Eve asking if Calum was ever to call back for Eve. Calum knew Eve would ask it eventually. It’s a reasonable question to ask. But Calum’s terrified of the answer. He exhales, pushing his head up. Eve’s gaze is pointed directly at him. His arms are settling around her hips, fingers threading to keep her close. Eve could break the grip if she wanted. Calum shakes his head before a soft, “No,” leaves his lips.

Eve’s not shocked at the answer, but she is a little taken aback by the firmness in Calum’s voice. “Why?”

“Because I wasn’t going to call you. If Kelsie hadn’t died when she did, I had come to terms with my decision. We were going to have those seven years. We were going to cherish them for what they were and I was going to remain loyal to Kelsie. She and I were going to have decades. And if she died when we got older, much older, I was going to see after my kids, but I wasn’t going to have anyone find you. They would’ve discovered you after I died maybe. Or when they put me up in a home, but I wasn’t going to drag you back through such pain.”

Calum exhales. His throat threatens to close and the sting spreads through his chest. The exhale allows him a moment to collect himself before continuing, “Then she died in that accident. I wasn’t prepared to lose Kelsie so early. I didn’t know what else to do. And the only thing that felt right was reaching out to you. I couldn’t make heads or tails of much of anything in my personal life. I had enough sense to be there for my kids, because that’s my job as their dad. But to think I would spend the next thirty years without anyone. God, I couldn’t imagine it. I didn’t want to imagine that kind of life.”

Eve takes her thumb to wipe the tears that have slipped down Calum’s cheek. She doesn’t think Calum notices the tears that have slipped. Or if he has, he’s not made any movement to clear the tears. “So you called me,” she deduces.

“So I called you,” Calum states.

“Because I’ll always answer.”

“It’s selfish, really. The thing I said I didn’t want to cause you I have roped you right into.”

“Sometimes you’re allowed to be selfish, Calum. But you see now why I still call it a curse. Do I love the good parts? Yes. Do I adore every second I get with you? Yes, of course. But it comes with pain. It is still a curse at the end of the day.”

Calum can only nod. The lump in his throat he’d been trying to swallow back down is too thick now. The inhale is shaky and when the words die in the space between his tongue and chest, Calum just nods. A resignation that he’d fulfilled the prophecy just as intended. Even if he wanted to let what he and Eve stay in the past, reality would never let him have that. He is a pawn in a game he could never win.

There’s nothing for Eve to say. Sure, in a wider stance, Calum’s fate was sealed long before he was born. But even in the macrocosm, individual choices have to be made. Calum could have named Māra something else. He could’ve gotten rid of the photos earlier. He could’ve done so many things differently. Yet, he hadn’t. All of his choices that he did make after learning the truth behind Eve were still his responsibility. Though, the truth didn’t make it easier to accept. He is here now. His head cradled into Eve’s hands, pressed to her sternum. Calum is here now. This is the bed he’d have to lie in now.

The late morning fades into the early afternoon and just as Calum thinks that maybe Māra will get through the rest of the day smoothly, his phone rings. Eve sees it first, from the couch, as the screen lights up before the ringtone sounds. When she reads Māra’s name on the screen, she picks it up and scurries down to the bathroom door. Her knock is gentle. But the rush of water from the sink cuts out and she knocks again.

Calum peels open the door, brows furrowed together when he spots Eve at the door. “There’s like five bathrooms--”

“It’s Māra,” Eve returns, answering the call before it goes to voicemail and holds it up to Calum’s ear.

“Dad?”

Calum takes the phone out of Eve’s hand, still keeping it up to his ear. “Yeah, sweetpea. It’s me. What’s up? Boy trouble?” He wishes it’s just boy trouble. Calum guesses it’s probably not. But he can still hold out hope.

Māra’s laughter is soft. “No, not boy trouble. Yet,” she adds after a pause.

“Gonna give your old man a heart attack, don’t say that.”

“Dad, it’s okay to still miss her, right? It’s okay to still ache, right?”

Calum inhales at the crack in Māra’s voice. His eyes blur for a moment with threatening tears, but they don’t fall. “Yeah, Mar, it’s okay to still miss your mother. It’s okay to still ache. Do you want me to come get you?”

“No, no, I just--Jasmine and her mom. Sometimes it just hurts. That’s all. You can’t fix it. I can’t fix it. It just hurts.”

“Sometimes it does,” Calum agrees. “And it’s okay that it does hurt.”

A shaky exhale crackles through the receiver. “She’d understand. That I still want to hang out with my friends. I still--I still have life.”

“She would. If between the two of us, only one would understand that it would be your mom. Kels always understood that. You sure you don’t want me to get you?”

“Yeah, Dad, I’m sure. Could-Could I visit her tomorrow? I know you’re probably going today.”

“Of course, sweetpea. Tomorrow’s fine.”

Another sniffle cracks through the line. “Can you just stay on the line with me? Tell me what’s happening over there?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s sort of boring over here,” Calum starts, pushing away from the bathroom door. He debates for a moment if he should mention Eve and then decides against it. It’s not lying. But there’s no reason for Calum to mention her specifically. Instead Calum chats about how the house is shockingly quiet between Kiri’s work on the shelves and Cailean upstairs. Calum’s sure to take it slow as he talks, knowing that the longer he takes, the more time Māra has to calm herself down.

The call only goes for another few minutes before Māra feels calm enough to get off the phone. Calum lets her go when she says she’s ready, but he clutches the phone between his hands for a moment. The corner of the device presses into his forehead as he drops his gaze to the floor. The couch shifts next to him. It’s a soft touch, right on his knee. But Calum’s never been more relieved to have someone at his side than in this moment. None of this is easy. Raising kids, dealing with death--not a single one of those are easy. But Calum’s sorely reminded just how much having someone else helps. Even if Eve can’t fix everything, her presence is still a comfort.

Calum’s grateful for the presence even when Eve sits in the backseat of the car. Kiri sits up front, Cailean behind the passenger seat and Eve behind Calum. Calum’s grateful for Eve when she watches them pick up the bouquet--peace lilies, violets, white roses, white daisies, and blue irises. Calum’s grateful. It is as plain and simple as that. And he’s even more grateful when he takes the step back from Kelsie’s headstone and Eve’s right there in the corner of his eye. The boys are mostly quiet, soft ‘I love you’s falling from their lips.

Eve doesn’t dare encroach. She keeps her distance, hands behind her back. But she’s there--all the same. That’s all that matters. She’s here because Calum asked her to be here. She’d always be there if Calum asked.

“Were you there?” Kiri turns, spotting Eve behind them. She stands, arms behind her back at attention. “When Mom died, were you there?”

“No,” Eve returns. Her tone is even without being condescending. It’s a fact. Eve was not there when Kelsie died. She hardly ever is for anyone’s death—save for the escapades Death drags her on.

“Did you know about us? Before Dad mentioned us?”

“In a way, yes.” The confusion is clear and Eve continues on, “Your mother called for me. Most dead people don’t get many requests. There’s no one phone call rule in Heaven. You’ll be happy to know your mother was decidedly going to Heaven. I didn’t know she’d died until after it happened. She was on her way to the otherside when she asked for me. By name. And I answer the calls when they come. It’s my job. ”

“Mom asked for you?” Cailean questions, turning now to Eve.

“Your mother asked for me.”

“What-what did she say?” Kiri takes a step forward. “What did she want?”

In all the time Eve had spent with Kiri he’d always been level headed. He had a no-nonsense air to him. While Eve wouldn’t call it a blase attitude, she would say that Kiri was cautious. But his face opens now in desperation and Eve sees the child he probably was. Trusting and wide eyed--Kiri probably took everything in with open arms and palm, letting razors cut if they fell and being kissed with giddy rain. He knew the world could and would hurt him, but he let it do so anyway. Much like was happening now. Eve’s answers—if she gives them fully—will only serve to cut Kiri’s faith just a little bit more. And yet, he is asking for it.

“She wanted her children safe.” It’s easy enough to round down the sentiments because truth be told, it was more complicated than that. The promise Eve can keep is that she won’t make it harder for them.

“Did she ask you to take care of us?” Kiri probes.

Eve shakes her head. “No. I would do a poor job at that. You don’t make promises to dead people you can’t keep.”

“Then what! What did she say, Eve?” The emotion catches in Kiri’s throat, and where his voice has grown in volume, it dies off in a choke on his pleas. “Please, what did she say?”

“Tell me, Kiri. Do you think knowing this will change anything about the way your mother lived, or loved? Is this knowledge going to give you peace?”

“I-I want it to,” Kiri confesses. He stands a head taller than Eve, but he’s never looked smaller.

“Can I let you in on a secret?” Eve captures his hands, bringing him a step closer to her body. There’s still a foot or so between them. But Kiri’s body hunches in and his shoulders shake. He nods to Eve’s question nevertheless. “Her dying thoughts were of you, and Cailean, and Māra, and Calum. She only wanted you all taken care of. I would be a poor substitute and messenger to her legacy and wishes. She loves you, Kiri. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“You keep doing that. Using present tense. She’s dead.”

Eve’s smile is tiny. She squeezes at Kiri’s hands to get him to look at her. When she does, she tilts her head just a little. “What do you think she asked me to do?”

“Fuck,” Kiri laughs--wet and thick with tears, but it’s still a laugh. His mother would never want him for a second to think just because she was dead that it would stop her hopes and dreams. Just because his mother is dead does not mean that her love ceased too. “Of course. Of course she did.”

Eve knows that later Calum will ask her what really happened. He too will be curious. Eve’s grateful, though, that in the moment as they spend just a few more minutes at the grave that Calum keeps whatever questions he has swallowed down. The question burns. Eve can see it right behind Calum’s gaze when he looks back in the rearview mirror. With a brief locked gaze, Eve can only hope she’s conveyed to Calum to wait. They return to Calum’s house and the boys immediately head for the stairs. But Calum and Eve both linger not quite at the front door but they have not pushed deeper into the house.

When Calum is sure the doors upstairs have been closed, he spins. “You never mentioned Kelsie talking to you before,” he hisses. His volume is low but the anger is clear. He’s not sure if it’s fear or sadness that’s winning out more on the emotion. But something hurts in his chest. Why would Eve not mention that to Calum of all people?

“She knew about me,” Eve returns. “She asked for me by name and told me that she wants her children cared for. She wants you cared for because she knows if you have me you can be there for your children. But she knew about me though. You can be pissed at me. But tell me: how did she know?”

“I didn’t hide you,” Calum returns. “I never hid what we had.”

“Are you accusing me of hiding something?”

“Why didn’t you mention it before?” Calum knows better than to answer that outright. Eve had her reasons for keeping their conversation quiet. But it still hurts. All Calum had imagined for a year now was what Kelsie’s last thoughts were. Calum had wished for a moment there that it had been him instead of Kelsie. He had started to offer to the store instead of Kelsie, but her job was closer than his. He’d have to cross the entire city just to get there whereas Kelsie was only a few minutes out.

“I only wanted to come into your life when you were ready. Besides, you’re not a hard man to keep tabs on when necessary. There was no reason to come to your door before you were ready.”

“She was my wife! You think I didn’t imagine night after night what she was thinking. I would do anything to change places with her. Eve, I buried her. My kids, the kids I had with her, watched their mother lowered into fucking dirt. Why didn’t you tell me she asked for you? Why?”

“I-” Eve blinks, watching the furrow between Calum’s brow. This is not the reaction she anticipated. But truly on the face of things, it could have gone a number of ways. “I’m sorry, Calum.”

“Why was she thinking of me?” His voice cracks on the question and Eve watches the first tear bubble in his lash line. “Why would she be focused on me when our kids need her?”

“Because she loves you,” Eve returns. That is a fact. Eve knew that.

“He’s always loved you, you know,” Kelsie says. Her eyes hurt from the light in front of her. But Eve’s body blocks some of it and it hurts a little less to take in the other woman’s appearance. Dark clothes and hair, though the ends look recently dyed a warm ginger. She’s never been super insecure, but standing in front of Eve, Kelsie feels a little out of place. How had Calum loved both of them? Eve exudes a confidence that Kelsie feels like she could never reach.

“He’ll always love you,” Eve returns. She doesn’t say what she’s really thinking: that Calum’s bond to her is forged in youth, lust, and design. Not that it is any less real. It is real, and it would always be different.

“Just--can you promise me something?” Kelsie asks. She’s unsure if she should ask. It was more than enough that when Kelsie asked for Eve that she actually showed up. When Calum talked of Eve, what she was, and their time together, Kelsie thought the claims of her being the Devil incarnate were just something to say for the effect. Eve wasn’t actually the Devil, but to Calum she was.

However, Kelsie had asked, upon spotting God and Death at her side, if she were dead. When they confirmed she was, when they confirmed she was going to the other side, Kelsie asked if she’d run into Eve. They were adamant Kelsie wouldn’t. And then it happened: I want to talk to Eve. Now, Kelsie is here. She’d asked for it. Wouldn’t it be stupid not to ask after all this?

“What is it? I won’t promise if I don’t know what I’m getting into,” Eve answers. “It’s not anything to do with you,” Eve tacks on. “Hazards of the job, and all.”

“I love him, I love Calum so much. And I always knew even before he told me. But I always knew someone had come before me. His first true love and it never ends well. But I love him. Do you think--oh, I don’t think I should be asking anymore.”

“Ask me,” Eve commands. It’s gentle, her hands take in Kelsie’s.

How could the touch feel so real even though she’s dead? Kelsie wonders. When her gaze lifts to Eve’s, the purple swirling with a bit of gold and the pupil tin the shape of snake’s, Kelsie can’t help but feel sucked in. Kelsie has to answer. She must. “Take care of him. Calum’s got to be there for the kids. He’s all they have left now. But he’s going to lose it for a while there. He’ll need to grieve, of course. But please--go back to him. When the time is right or when you can. Just please go back to him. He still loves you.” The two women can only stare at each other. A silent exchange of recognition and Eve nods. “And please, don’t let my kids forget that I love them. Present tense. I always will.”

Another few seconds drop between them--silent again. Eve gives another nod before she speaks. “I promise.”

It’s Calum’s voice that brings Eve back to the present around her. It’s his trembling voice that makes Eve’s chest ache. “You-you’re just saying that,” Calum retorts. “You’re--you don’t mean it.”

“She told me.”

Three words, but they make Calum shake his head. He spins from her, walking over to the dining table. Calum had told Kelsie. He told her about Eve a year and a half into their relationship. It was eating him alive not to. But there’s no way Kelsie would ask for Eve. There was no way her last thoughts were of him. Eve stays near the door, watching Calum pace. He peers up at her every few seconds, to confirm she’s still there. Eve never moves though. She’s always in the same spot when Calum looks up.

“Show me,” Calum finally returns. Eve could take him in his sleep to the memory. It would prove to him that it was real.

“Tonight?” Eve questions.

Calum nods. “Tonight.”

“You’re sure you’ll be able to fall asleep?”

“I’m sure.”

“I’ll get you tonight then. Would you like me to leave in the meantime?”

Calum’s not sure what he wants. But he doesn’t like that Eve would just leave. Sure he’s angry--it’s the fear talking mostly, but that doesn’t mean he wants Eve to go. Unless she wants to go. “You’ll come back, though, right? Before we meet in the dream, you’ll come back here for the night?”

“I don’t have to go. I-should we call a timeout?”

Calum exhales. No one’s asked him for a time out in decades. Kelsie and he almost always managed not to ruffle too many feathers. Sure they had their disagreements. Sure a couple got ugly. But they never needed the phrase. They had a look. Kelsie would always look up with a heavy exhale, chin wobbling. It was always her tell that things were getting too heated. Calum nods, at Eve’s question. “There's, uh, there’s no garden though. Just the backyard.”

“I’m sure you still have a music office,” Eve grins.

He gives an exhaled tuft of laughter. “Yeah. There’s, well, there’s Kelsie’s craft room next door too. But you’ve-you’ve always enjoyed the outdoors.”

Eve nods towards the back of the house. “I’ll be outside, okay? When you’re ready.”

“Okay.” It’s all he needs to say before Eve moves from near the front door to the back. The door is soft as it shuts and Calum watches from the start of the hallways as Eve perches on one of the lounge chairs. She just sits for a second, right on the edge before pushing back into the incline.

It shouldn’t shock Calum. When he cracks open the back door, and Eve’s hardly moved from the spot she settled in, he shouldn’t be shocked. But part of him wondered if she’d run off. His answer stares back at him when she opens one eye.

“You hungry?” Calum asks. He holds out the plate, a soup bowl on it with salad and some breadsticks too. The plate is quite crowded, but Calum was more focused on finishing the dinner than with how it looked on the plate.

Eve takes it from his hands. “Thank you.”

“Care for company?”

“I’d like yours,” Eve smiles. “But I know you’re a stickler about having dinner with the kids.”

“I ate with them already. I hope you don’t mind.”

Eve shakes her head, lifting the bowl from the plate in her lap. “I don’t.”

Calum settles at the feet of her chair and Eve folds her legs up under herself. “I’m sorry for raising my voice earlier,” he starts. The spoon is a soft clink in the bow as Eve feeds herself one spoonful. He knows she doesn’t need the food, but he’s grateful that she takes the olive branch.

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. I wasn’t sure if I should, if I’m honest.”

Calum reaches out, hand falling to her knee. He brushes his thumb over the denim covered joint. “If I were in your shoes, I probably wouldn’t have been sure either.” A bit of a breeze creeps in through the bushes and Calum takes in only the thin t-shirt covering Eve’s body. “Are you col-” he pauses at the question. “Probably not.”

“Are you cold?”

Calum shakes his head. “I’ll be okay until you finish.”

“Should I still show you?”

He’d debated this as he stood over the simmering pot. He knew he shouldn’t. Eve wouldn’t have a reason to lie over something like this. But he couldn’t shake the thought that he could get to see Kelsie one more time. Perhaps if he could see her not dead, if he could see her not patched up from the cuts and scrapes, he could let her go. That’s the hard part. The last moments he has of Kelsie is her after the thing that took her life. He was always seeing her, behind his eyes, in the after accident state. Maybe he could let her go once he realized that it was just her physical body. Kelsie’s spirit would still be intact. She’d always be the woman he married, caring to a fault and tender.

“Please,” he sighs.

Eve nods, stretching to place her plate and bowl on the table next to her. She settles back into the incline, arms opening up. “C’mon, she’s waiting,” Eve states. She hopes this doesn’t set Calum back. But she’s not in the business of second guessing Calum anymore. If he said he wanted it then he’d have to accept the consequences alongside it.

Calum doesn’t waste another second before crawling up between her legs and presses his back into her chest. Eve holds him tight, both arms squeezing around him. Sleep will take a minute, maybe two. But when it does come, so will Kelsie.

I love him, I love Calum so much. And I always knew even before he told me. But I always knew someone had come before me. His first true love and it never ends well. But I love him.

Present tense.

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bestyearsluke28 · 2 years

Text

Lie To Me - 3 | Heat Waves

Ivy lay awake staring at the ceiling, occasionally glancing over at her clock that read 3:45. She was waiting for it to become morning.

She'd accepted that she wasn't falling asleep anytime soon, not with her head in the manic state that it was in.

Ivy couldn't put her mind to rest, she was thinking about everything. She was so conflicted with her feelings.

She was trying to be honest with herself lately, a new thing she was trying. It was good, to be honest, but it was causing her a lot of stress.

Admitting to herself that she likes someone takes a while, she just keeps telling herself she's being strange or thinking about little things too much over and over again.

She couldn't get Ashton out of her head. His beautiful eyes, his smooth sun-kissed skin and the freckles that splayed across his cheeks.

She was in love with every single feature of his face.

When she and Ashton stayed up drinking beside the pool one night that's when she realised that she was in deep.

He looked so gentle and welcoming with his kind eyes and his features lit up with the pool lights and the moon.

She didn't say anything and tried to act normal but her heart was beating out of her chest.

Her heart was also racing the other night with Luke, his hands grasping onto her like he was going to lose her at any moment. She felt secure with Luke which wasn't a familiar feeling for her, she was almost always on edge, waiting for something horrible to happen. She hoped for the best but also prepared for the worst. He'd take a bullet for her and she knew it. He made sure she knew it.

She loved how comforting his warm, soft and tanned skin was against hers. She loved how he scrunched the fabric of her shorts and how his hands felt against her thighs.

The other night was very new for them, Luke had dreamed of it but he never thought it would happen.

He loved the way his hands looked against her olive skin, soothing her with his delicate touch.

He loved the way his head fit so perfectly on her chest like it was made just for him.

He loved the way her fingers raked through his messy blonde hair. It could send him right to sleep, even if the world was ending it would never fail to instantly put him at ease.

And Ashton was also thinking too much for his own good. He was an over-thinker and it kept him up some nights.

He was used to it. Whenever he couldn't sleep, he would go downstairs and sleep on the couch, hoping Ivy would join him and they'd cuddle up and watch Titanic until they fell asleep.

He threw the covers off his body, slipping on some pyjama bottoms and making his way downstairs.

He ran his hand through his hair, pushing the strands away from his eyes with a deep sigh.

He got a glass of water for himself and an extra one for Ivy in case she came down to join him.

He sat down on the l-shaped couch, staring up at the ceiling again.

He sat in silence for a few minutes until he could hear light footsteps coming down the stairs.

He sat up and smiled, watching Ivy come down the stairs to meet him.

He opened his arms up, moving a little to make space for her beside him. "Hi, Ives," Ashton smiled as she situated herself beside him, and he hugged her close to his side.

"You okay?" Ivy asked him and he nodded.

"Yeah, just thinking too much and I couldn't sleep," he let out a breath and Ivy nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

They had many nights like these.

In the early hours of the morning when they couldn't sleep, they would find each other and just sit and be there with one another, even if they weren't saying a word.

Whether it was on the couch, in the kitchen, in Ashton's bedroom or by the pool they adored just being with each other.

It was one of those nights where they just needed to be silent and simply just...think. They both knew it, so it's exactly what they did.

They sat in silence in each other's arms, watching the tv but not fully registering what was going on in the movie. "Ash? What do I do about having conflict... with my thoughts? I want something but I also want something else. They're both so different but I just can't choose."

"Let it play out, it'll sort itself out and you'll decide what you want. Remember, don't settle for anything, go for what you truly want, Ivy."

"Thank you," she whispered, finally being able to put her thoughts to rest. Ashton always helped her, he gave the best advice but never used it for himself.

"Ivy, help me stop thinking," it was eating him alive. It could be the stupidest, most irrelevant thing but he would spend every minute of the day thinking about it.

"Just think, on your deathbed, this thing you're thinking about. Will it matter to you and will you think about it at that moment? If not, it doesn't matter and it's not worth your time or thought."

Ashton sat staring at the ceiling again, thinking more for a moment. It wouldn't matter, the only thing that would matter to him would be his friends and family in the end, nothing makes him truly happy like they do. "You should've told me that sooner," Ashton chuckled and Ivy smiled into his chest.

"Come to my room?" Ash asks, slightly nudging her shoulder.

Ivy nodded her head, attempting to climb off of him but he didn't let her.

Instead, he carried her up the stairs, the blanket from the couch still wrapped up around her.

As soon as her head hit Ashton's pillow she was knocked out and Ashton brought the bedsheets over her, making sure she was warm and comfortable enough before getting in bed himself.

Ivy's words kept playing over and over in his head. After hearing what she said he'd probably never overthink about something stupid ever again.

She was so knowledgeable and Ashton knew for sure she'd read that in one of her books. A lot of the things she says, all her lyrics sound like they're straight from a beautiful piece of literature.

She was like a goddess out of a beautiful piece of literature.

#5sos fic #luke hemmings #5sos #friendstolovers #love triangle #ashton irwin #best friends #ashtonirwin #calum hood #michael clifford #romance #fanfiction #fanfic #5sos angst #young adult #teen fiction #5sos luke #female song writer #luke hemmings x fem!oc

2 notes · View notes

ghost-of-you · 2 years

Text

catch 22 - ch - Part 2

Paring: Calum Hood x Original Female Character

Word Count: 15.4k

Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, a panic attack, some swearing

Author's note: this is mostly fluff, but we do get on the angst train now so buckle up.

The title for this one is from friends don't by Maddie & Tae

read it on ao3

Series Masterlist

playlist

part 1 part 3

___________

Yes, we do, but friends don't.

2012

The first time Calum called Emma, she was so shocked she almost forgot she was supposed to answer. She was already in bed, a Disney movie playing on her laptop, while she waited for sleep to come when the phone rang.

When she answered, after staring at the screen for a second too long, he said he wanted to ask her something about a class, something she thought was odd since she went to a different school, but he said she was "the smartest person he could think of" and she tried to explain what he was supposed to do, promising to help him in person the next time she saw him if he still couldn't figure it out. He didn't hang up after that, asking what she was doing before he called and somehow they were still talking much later when she could barely keep her eyes open.

The first time Emma called Calum, was in the week following that. She couldn't think of an excuse for the call, saying she just felt like talking to him, making him chuckle and start telling her about something funny that had happened in one of his classes. Soon those calls became a constant thing. Something Emma looked forward to. She started calling when something exciting happened, but soon changed to calling when anything she felt like talking about happened since Calum didn't seem to mind it when she ranted about a tv show or book or freaked out about a test the following day. He, on the other hand, rarely had a specific topic in mind. A few other times he asked for help with a project, but mostly he just asked about her day to start the conversation.

Emma liked the routine of calls a lot now that the boys moved the rehearsals to a rehearsal space, Ashton usually picking them up from school and driving them and the instruments around. That, unfortunately for Emma, meant that she didn’t spend nearly as much time with them as the previous year. She still tagged along at weekends when she could, but the lack of daily hangouts meant they had more to talk about, something she wasn’t complaining about, even though she missed them more than she would ever dare to admit.

The shortened time with them also expanded her time alone, which is probably why she’s freaking out, she wasn’t as used to being around him as she was before even though she was talking to him more than ever between texts and the calls.

“It’s just Calum,” Emma keeps telling herself as she stares at the send button.

To Cal ❤️: Hey can I come over?

She hits send before she can talk herself out of it and locks her phone, setting it on the sand beside her. It rings faster than she expected.

From Cal ❤️: yup ;)

To Cal ❤️: k see u soon

She exhales loudly trying to calm herself down, he’s her friend, why wouldn’t he want to see her? He is her friend, right? She doesn’t know why she’s spiraling, so she gets up and walks. She misses him. She misses the bubble of craziness around all of them, really. Days just didn’t feel the same. So the rush of excitement she feels getting to Calum’s house is something she understands.

She sends him an “I’m here” when she turns into his street and smiles to herself when his door opens almost immediately after.

“Hey,” she waves at him when she’s a few feet away from him, waiting for her on the sidewalk. He closes the distance between them, arms outstretched, pulling her into a hug and lifting her from the ground, making her squeak and hold on tightly to him, arms around his neck.

“Hi,” he replies to her hair before putting her down, making her laugh. “Are you ever at your own house?” He teases, leading them back in.

“Between school, following you guys around, and trying to keep my sanity by watching the waves until my mum is about to call the cops, not really, no,” she jokes, following him through the house. "I just hate being alone at that house," she shrugs, walking into his bedroom, "are you always home alone?" She asks in return.

"Just when you decide to show up at my door," he replies, and she laughs. "Mum works weird hours," he shrugs, and she nods.

"What were you doing?" She asks, sitting on his bed while he rolls his computer chair to sit in front of her.

“Playing,” he points to the computer behind him.

“Sorry for making you stop,” she says.

“It’s fine, love, I was getting bored anyway,” his gaze is intense, hands are resting on her knees, and she doesn’t know what to do except look at him. “Oh,” his face suddenly lights up and he sits up straight, “Did Mike tell you we got a gig?”

“Really?” She smiles with him, “He didn’t. Where? When? Can I come?”

“If you’re up for carrying gear, I’m sure we can get you in,” he jokes, but she nods.

“Sure, I can carry guitars, 'cause Ash won’t let me touch his drums, or, I don’t know, pretend I’m helping you set things up," she pauses, “or actually help set up things,” her enthusiasm makes him laugh, “what is it?”

“It’s a party."

“That could be fun,” she says and he nods, hands settling back on her knees, and she could feel her cheeks heat up under his gaze.

“Wanna watch a movie or something?” He asks, and she feels herself nodding “sure” before fully registering his question. She didn't have a plan in mind when she texted him. She just wanted to see him. Watching something sounds better than sitting there and awkwardly looking at each other. She watches as he spins in the chair, moving closer to the desk, and searches for whatever movie he wants, before noticing she’s staring and shaking her head, kicking her sneakers off, dropping back into the bed, and moving to sit with her back against the headboard when he hits play.

Calum picks a random action movie, but none of them are paying close attention to it. It starts with a classic motivation scene, and Emma points it out as the bad guy is about to attack the love interest, laughing and gesturing to the screen while Calum tries not to laugh too. After that, they start to point out all the cliches and stupid things in the movie, Emma looking at him every time something she said is about to happen does happen to watch his reaction, with every comment getting closer to him until she’s completely pressed against his side.

"Love," he whispers, and she turns her face to him, eyes slowly moving to look at him, her gaze going back and forth between Calum and the screen.

"Yeah?" She asks while his eyes seem focused on her lips, making her extremely conscious of how close he is.

"I wanna kiss you," he says and she questions for a second if she's hearing it right before nodding, her gaze dropping from his eyes to his lips.

"Okay," she hums, and his hand finds her neck, bringing her closer, before kissing her. She holds the front of his shirt while she kisses him back, pulling him forward and shifting her body so the position wouldn’t be so awkward, her heartbeat rising as she doesn’t know what to do with what she’s feeling. Calum pulls back, the smile on his face making her feel breathless, but then he’s pulling her towards him again, and she can’t think of anything other than his lips on hers.

Too soon, her phone starts ringing, letting her know that her mother is trying to find her and bringing them back to reality.

Emma lets it ring, she doesn’t want to hear that she’s late or that she’s been gone too long.

“I gotta go,” she says, moving away from Calum, so she could get out of the bed.

“You didn’t even check,” he frowns at her, reaching for her phone while she puts her sneakers back on.

“I don’t have to, I’m willing to bet that’s my mum asking me why I’m not home" she looks back at him just as he unlocks the phone in his hand.

“One missed call from mum,” he nods and she shoots him a grin.

“Told ya,” she says standing up and motioning for Calum to give her the phone.

She pockets it and searches around to see if she’s forgetting something while he gets up and stands beside her.

“Wait,” she says, suddenly turning to look at him.

“What?” He asks, sounding alarmed.

“You kissed me,” she starts and he answers before she can finish her thought.

“I’m pretty sure you agreed to it,” he smirks at her.

“We have never done that before,” she adds, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No, but I wouldn’t mind if it happened again,” his face is serious now, looking at her intently.

“So, what? We do this now?”

“I’m down whenever you are.”

“Sounds good to me."

“Good,” he leans down to kiss her again, fast and sweet, making her giggle.

“I really need to go, though,” she says, starting to walk out of his room and he follows her as she makes her way out.

Emma stops when she reaches the front door, waiting while Calum looks for the keys. She steps out of the way when he moves closer to her and unlocks it.

“Bye, Cal,” she says, reaching for the doorknob.

“Hang on,” he pulls her by her waist and kisses her one more time, “now you can go,” he says, opening the door for her and she giggles.

“See ya,” she says and he winks at her, making her laugh as she walks away.

______

“Are you ready?” Emma asks, sitting beside Michael on the steps in front of his house, waiting for their ride to arrive.

“I was born ready, babe."

“I don’t think you knew how to play the guitar when you were born,” she jokes and he scoffs at her.

“Are you ready? You hate parties,” he asks in return, turning to her.

“You hate parties,” she shoots back.

“I don’t hate this one, I’m the main attraction,” he brags and she starts laughing.

“Technically, you’re only one-fourth of the main attraction,” she teases.

“Everyone only ever looks at the guitarist, you know that.”

“Then you’re half the main attraction,”

“Stop ruining this for me,” he grunts, and she grins at his reaction.

“I can’t let you get all cocky on me, I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I did."

“If you wanna be a good friend you need to hype me up,” he argues.

“I love you and you’re my favorite, but I also need to make sure you stay grounded, you know? Can’t let it get to your head," she teases, tapping his temple and he pushes her arm away.

“No, no you don’t."

“Oh my God, it’s Michael Clifford, the best musician ever and my only goal in life it’s to get his attention,” she’s fanning herself, speaking in a high-pitched voice, and Michael is frowning at her, “better?” She adds, speaking normally now.

“I hate you,” he says, rolling his eyes at her and she laughs.

“No, you don’t, you love me, you wouldn’t put up with me if you didn’t."

“Now that you pointed it out, you really are very annoying."

“Hey!”

“You said it, not me,” he shrugs, and she shakes her head.

“You know what? I take it back, you’re not my favorite."

“Why?” He complains and she shrugs.

“You’re annoying me."

“That’s not a good enough reason, trouble."

“Of course it is."

“No, it isn’t."

“It is."

"It isn't."

"It is."

“Come on," he complains, with a frown and she frowns back.

“You said I’m very annoying."

“You said I’m cocky."

“I said I can’t let you get cocky,” she tries to explain but he interrupts her.

“And that’s why you’re annoying."

“I hate you."

“You love me,” he winks at her.

“No, I don't, you're an idiot."

“Hey, don’t be mean,” he pouts and she chuckles.

“Sorry,” she pauses, “wait, no, you called me annoying, I can call you an idiot."

“And that’s your plan to make me not think you’re annoying?”

“Yep."

"You're crazy."

"And yet, you're the one that loves me," she grins at him and he just looks at her, like he can't think of what to say.

Michael is still thinking of a comeback when the headlights of Ashton's car light up the street and he honks and stops in front of them.

*****

Calum kept his arm around Emma's shoulders after their performance, dragging her along with him through the crowded place, and all she can do is smile and go along with it because she doesn't want to be away from him and she likes the warm feeling she gets in her chest from having him around.

After a while she falls quiet, resting her head against him as he talks to a group of people whose names she had already forgotten. She doesn't even notice when he excuses himself and only reacts as he starts moving again, leading them away from the party.

"Are you tired?" He asks when they reach the side of the house, the music now just background noise.

"A little," she admits, "but I can last a few more hours, y'all seem to be having fun," she smiles at him, sitting down on the ground leaning back on the wall, and closing her eyes.

"Really? 'Cause it felt like you were about to fall asleep on me in there," he jokes, sitting in front of her and she opens her eyes to look at him.

"Well, you're very comfortable," she tells him and he chuckles.

"Thank you?" He asks and she giggles. Maybe she is more tired than she thinks.

"What time is it? My phone died," she frowns at the pitch-black sky before looking back at the boy in front of her.

"2:27," he says after checking and she blinks at him.

"Really? Oh wow, no wonder I'm tired," she laughs.

"Yeah, I didn't think it was this late."

"Well, it's a good thing, not noticing, it means we were having fun."

"Yeah," he nods and she's watching him.

"Did I tell you you look good today? I like that shirt," she says before she could stop herself. He's wearing a navy blue button-down shirt that makes him look dressed up and cute, especially when he grins at her like that.

"Thank you."

"I just thought I should mention it," she shrugs and he tilts his head, the grin never leaving his lips.

"You really are tired, aren't you, love?" He asks and she frowns at him.

"What? I can't tell you that I think you’re cute?"

"You can, I just think it’s the sleepiness talking."

"I am sleepy, but I'm always sleepy," she laughs, stifling a yawn.

"Come here," he says, moving so he could sit beside her, wrapping his arm around her and she drops her head to his shoulder, "I think you look cute too," he says to her hair and she smiles.

"Thank you," she giggles and looks up at him, "it's the makeup."

"No, it isn't," he looks like he wants to say something more, but he doesn't. Her thoughts are starting to get away from her, the closeness making her think back to what it was like to kiss him and now she can't take her eyes off his lips.

"Hey Cal?" She asks before she can lose the courage.

"Yeah?"

"I wanna kiss you," she echoes, looking up at his eyes and he moves his hand to her cheek and closes the distance between them. His lips are soft and she pulls him closer by his collar, making him laugh against her lips, and adjust so that he could get closer before kissing her again.

Emma is almost asleep, head laying on Calum's shoulder when Ashton comes to find them so they could leave and she's still smiling to herself when she's finally in her bed.

______

It was getting out of hand. Kissing Calum is all Emma could think about. She couldn't concentrate. She couldn't do anything without ending up in some elaborate daydream fueled by feelings she didn't fully understand. She hadn’t seen Calum, or any of them for that matter, in weeks, since they booked a tour as an opening act, then somehow ended up in meetings with managers in London and they hadn’t talked about what kissing meant and she thought she was cool with the whole situation but maybe she wasn’t as chill about it as she thought. They still talked on the phone, almost daily now, but he didn’t bring it up, so she didn’t either.

That made her start writing. A dream she had. A thought that kept running around in her mind. A quote that spoke to her. A lyric from a song. It was her way to try to figure out what she was feeling. At first, it was just in the last few pages of her school notebooks, but as the writing helped her, she started a whole new notebook with just that. All sorts of thoughts. Mostly about Calum, not that she would ever admit it. She kept it in her backpack, pulling it out whenever she thought she needed it.

And it was helping. But she kept trying to convince herself that it was just about kissing. If it were something more, he would've said something by now, right? Wondering was driving her crazy. She kept telling herself it was nothing. It's just Calum. He’s her friend. Friends can kiss each other, and it doesn't have to mean anything.

And that's what she's doing, sitting by her window, a book in her hand she can't concentrate on, thoughts spinning in her head as she reads the same sentence over and over again trying to understand it when she catches a glimpse of something making her turn.

She sees a familiar blonde head and can't help her excitement, shaking her arms to get his attention. When Michael finally notices her, she motions she's going over, and he nods.

She runs out of her house, and it's getting to his front door when Michael opens it.

"You're back!" She says, colliding to his chest, and throwing her arms around him, and he chuckles, hugging her back. "When did you get back?" She asks, stepping back.

"It's been a few hours." He shrugs.

"And you didn't tell me?" She clutches her chest, faking outrage, before shoving him playfully.

“Why tell you if all I have to do is pass by a window for you to know?” He mocks her, and she shoves him again, pouting slightly. "Come on,” he motions for her to go in, leading them to his bedroom, where she drops to the floor, sitting with her back against the foot of the bed, facing the monitor that showed that Michael was playing Guitar Hero.

“I meant why didn’t you tell me you were coming back today. I thought you’d only be back next week,” she asks, more serious this time when he sits down next to her.

“We only had a few hours between finding out we could come back and getting on the plane, and honestly, I could only think about my bed, also,” he shoots her a look and grins, “I thought Calum would tell you,” the way he says his name makes Emma frown at him.

“What do you mean?”

“You tell me, what’s going on between the two of you?” He asks and she blinks a couple of times, trying to gather her thoughts.

“Nothing?” She tells him, but it sounds like a question because she doesn’t really know.

“Oh, really? You’re gonna tell me you don’t like him?” He asks, again with the emphasis that makes her feel weird.

“What? No,” she says a little too quickly, “I don’t like him,” she adds, but it feels like she’s lying.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” at least she thinks so, but as she says it, again it feels like a lie. Does she like him? She couldn't, could she?

“So nothing happened between the two of you?” He asks, a confused expression on his face and she raises an eyebrow at him.

“M, where the hell is this coming from?”

“He talked to you through the whole trip."

“That’s not true."

“You’re telling me he didn’t give you a play-by-play of everything we did?”

“Not everything,” she deflects, pressing her lips together and he raises an eyebrow at her.

“He was on the phone with you every day."

“Not every day,” she deflects again, even though he did call her daily, and Michael rolls his eyes.

“Can you just tell me if something happened or not? He won’t tell me either.”

“Maybe, just maybe, it’s because there’s nothing to tell."

“I don’t believe you," he says and she sighs, staring at him.

“Well, we kissed. Once. Or twice. I don’t know, I lost track at this point,” she trails off as Michael's eyes grow wider.

“I knew it!” He exclaims and Emma can’t help but start laughing at his reaction, ”he kept telling me it was none of my business-"

“Well, he’s right,” she says but Michael ignores her.

“-But I knew something must’ve happened-"

“It was just some kissing, come on, it’s Calum,” she says but he continues to ignore her.

"-'Cause you don’t get that comfortable around anyone."

“Hey,” she protests, frowning at him.

“It’s the truth, I’m pretty sure the only reason you’re cool around me is 'cause we’ve known each other half our lives.” She opens her mouth to respond, but she can’t think of an answer, so she closes it again, making Michael smirk, “see, you know I’m right.”

“You’re not right,” she lies and he gives her a look of disbelief, “Okay, you’re right."

“Oh, so you do like him?” He asks with a grin and she groans.

“What’s with the interrogation?”

“I can’t even look at a girl without you going on about it for days, I’m just returning the favor,” he smirks at her and she frowns.

“I’m not that intense."

“No, you're worse. Now talk, ‘cause you bottle things up until it drives you crazy and that’s not good." He motions for her to speak and she can't help but feel amused by his reaction.

“What do you want me to say?”

"What's happening between the two of you?"

“I already told you, we kissed, that’s all,” she shrugs and he shoots her a disbelieving look.

“He called you every day and you’re telling me that’s all?”

“Yes."

“So you really don’t like him?” He looks confused, and Emma wonders if she’s missing something.

“No! Yes? Maybe. I don’t know, okay” she finally admits.

“Oh, so you’re in denial, that makes sense."

“Michael!”

“Oh no, you called me by my name,” he fake gasps clutching his chest.

“I hate you."

“No, you don’t,” he winks at her and she glares back at him.

“We kissed, we didn’t talk about if it means anything, and I don’t know how I feel about him, so, yeah, I don’t have anything to tell you, because I don’t know."

“You either feel something or you don’t, trouble.”

“It’s not that easy, M," she groans, running a hand through her hair.

“Why?”

“'Cause it’s Calum."

“Yeah, it’s Cal, so?”

“So, we talk every day and I’m almost as comfortable around him as I am around you but I’m pretty sure if you and I kissed, it would just be weird."

“Do you wanna try?” He smirks, leaning closer and she laughs, playfully pushing him away, shaking her head.

“You’re an idiot."

“I’m just trying to help you here,” he tells her, defensively raising his arm.

“I don’t think kissing you would help, but thank you, I’ll keep the option open for the next time I need a make-out session."

“Whenever you need it,” he winks at her and she can't help but giggle. "So Calum?” He asks and she looks up at the ceiling, feeling exasperated before sighing and looking back at Michael.

“I don’t think I’m falling for him or anything, I just like being around him, and as you pointed out, I don’t like being around anyone,” she shrugs, "so it's a nice change."

“Just don’t get hurt because you don't wanna figure it out."

“I won’t,” she promises, and at that moment it feels like something she can keep.

_____

"Hi," Calum seems to materialize in front of Emma, making her almost drop her phone.

"Jesus, you scared me," she tells him, pulling her headphones down to her neck.

"Sorry," he grins at her, "what's up?"

"I'm going to school?" She says, almost as a question, noticing how far from his school he is, "shouldn't you be doing the same?"

"School's boring."

"Right," she raises an eyebrow at him, "I gotta go, though, I'm already late."

"Skip it with me," he asks suddenly and she just stares at him.

"What?"

"You're already late, just don't go," he shrugs and she opens her mouth to tell him no, but nothing comes out.

"I," she stops, considering if she should do it or not, trying to remember if there’s something important happening that day.

"Please?" He pleads, big brown eyes staring into hers, and she loses any resolve to say no looking at him.

"Okay, sure, why not?" She agrees, trying not to giggle at Calum’s growing grin, "So what are we going to do?"

"I didn't think that far," he says, scratching his neck and she chuckles.

"Of course you didn't," she checks the time, "we can go to my house, my parents already left."

"Cool," he throws an arm around her shoulders, turning them around and they start to make their way back.

***

“I never saw you play,” Calum says from her bed and she spins in her chair to look at him.

“Huh?”

“I never saw you play,” he repeats, sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed, closer to her.

“No one ever saw me play,” she shrugs. “I don’t play around people."

“I’m not people,” he pouts, sounding offended and making her chuckle.

“No, you’re not, come on,” she reaches for his hand, pulling him with her towards the keyboard, sitting down and patting the space beside her on the bench.

“Okay, rockstar, you don’t get to judge me even if you think I’m terrible,” she looks at him when he sits beside her.

“But,” he begins, and she groans.

“Cal, please, this is my safe space, I don’t let anyone anywhere near this,“ she motions around her.

“Okay, I’m just gonna watch,” he grins, raising his hand in defense, and she can’t help but smile too.

Emma lets her hands hover over the keys, deciding what to play, before breathing out and starting to play.

“Taylor Swift? Really?” He scoffs, recognizing the song faster than she thought he could.

"Hey! No judgment, remember?” She tells him and begins to sing. She tries to ignore Calum, she knows that if she thinks too much about how close he is or how she can feel him staring she’ll lose what she’s doing and for some reason, she wants to impress him.

Drop everything now

Meet me in the pouring rain

Kiss me on the sidewalk

Take away the pain

'Cause I see, sparks fly, whenever you smile

She finishes the song and looks back at Calum waiting for a reaction to find him watching her and she feels her cheeks heat up.

“So?” She asks when he doesn’t say anything.

“You’re good,” he finally says, making her frown.

“Good?”

“With all the secrecy I thought I’d have to lie so I wouldn’t hurt your feelings,” he teases.

“Hey,” she pouts at him and he grins at her.

“I knew you could sing if you wanted to, I just thought, you know,” he trails off and she offers, "that I didn’t play around people cause it would be torture?” with a laugh.

“Well, if I put it like that it would’ve just been mean," he teases and she crinkles her nose at him, "but, you’re talented, why don’t you, you know, show people?”

“Well, rockstar, I just like music, I don’t want the spotlight,” she explains and his face softens looking at her.

“That actually makes sense,” he nods in agreement.

“Does it?”

“Yeah, you don’t like attention."

“Nope, in fact, you can have the spotlight and I'll be a producer."

"That's your plan? Producing?"

"Yep," she nods, grinning at him.

“Thanks for playing for me then."

“It’s just a song,” she shrugs, looking back at the keys and playing some random notes.

“You could teach me."

“The song?”

“No, the piano."

“I’m not a good teacher, Cal."

“Bullshit."

“How would you know?”

“I just do, show me the song you just played,” he asks, hitting random keys dramatically, making Emma laugh.

“I have no idea how,” she tells him.

“Nonsense, start with the chords,” he encourages her and she sighs, shaking her head at how excited he looks.

“Okay, the song’s just four chords and two progressions,” she begins and he nods.

“Sounds easy enough,”

“The main progression is D major, B flat, F, and C,” she demonstrates each chord as she says them while Calum pays close attention to it.

“So D," he repeats back to her, looking down at the keys, playing the right ones, and glancing back at Emma for confirmation.

“Yes,” she nods and he smiles.

“B,” he adds, playing it almost right and looking up at her again.

“Almost, it’s the black key,” she adjusts his hand for the right shape and he tries again. “Yep."

“F,” he plays it and she nods, ”and C."

“Yes."0

Calum plays the full progression again and Emma can’t help but smile at the sparkle in his eyes.

“Now you just have to get the tempo right and you can get away with playing everything but the pre-chorus of the song,” she announces to him and he does it again, this time at the right time and she starts clapping.

“You know, when the band takes off, you should get a teacher, someone that will actually teach you something, not just Taylor Swift songs that are definitely not your thing.”

“When,” he laughs, looking down at the keys and playing around with them, “you have way too much faith in us."

“I do have faith in you,” she turns to look at him, “I’m sure one day I’ll be able to say that I knew you before you were cool."

“You think so?” He turns to her too, eyes soft, and she can feel a smile forming on her lips.

“I know so."

“As I said, too much faith,” he says, his gaze moving back to the keyboard and playing a few random notes.

“I don’t think it’s too much,” she shrugs, ”It’s just a feeling."

“I’m not going to agree, but just because I don’t feel like jinxing it,” he continues to mess around with the notes looking for the sound he wants and she frowns looking at his hands and back to his face.

“Wait, you know what you’re doing," she blinks at him and he chuckles, shrugging.

“Kinda."

“And you need me for what then?”

“I just mess around with the piano in our music room, I don’t know how to play yet," he says, defensively and she shrugs as he stops playing.

“Could’ve fooled me."

“Again, too much faith,” he looks at her, eyes intense, gaze moving from her eyes to her lips, "and I need you for way more than just music lessons."

"Smooth," she teases, giggling and he frowns at her.

"What?"

"The eyes, the I need you, if I didn't know better I'd think you were trying something," she says teasingly, raising an eyebrow, but he holds her gaze, a smug grin on his face.

"So what if I was?"

"You would have to be a little more direct," she teases, winking at him.

“Really?” He asks, his face slowly getting closer and his gaze going back and forth between her eyes and her lips.

“Yeah,” she breathes, trying to focus on anything other than how close he is, as he's still moving, stopping just short of her lips.

“So you don’t want me to kiss you?” He asks, lips grazing hers as he speaks and she feels like she can’t breathe, resisting the urge to just close the distance herself.

“I never said that,” she answers, staying still while his face seems out of focus, trying to avoid letting her gaze drift to his lips but she doesn’t have to try for very long.

“Good,” he says, hand moving to her cheek and kissing her. She sighs happily into his lips kissing him back.

"We need to get out of here," she pulls back after a while, "my mum sometimes comes back around lunchtime, and we can't be here if she does."

"Where should we go then?" He asks and she gives him a how should I know look.

"I picked here, you pick the next one."

"Fine, are you hungry?"

"I don't know, maybe?"

"That's a yes, we're gonna go get lunch then."

"Sounds like a plan."

***

“Why do you call him M?” Calum asks, stealing one of her fries when she mentions a text she just got from Michael and Emma chuckles.

“Oh," she scratches her neck, “well, everyone calls me Em, right?” He nods, encouraging her to continue, “but Michael doesn’t, he never calls me by my name, never did.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he chuckles.

“Well, kid me thought it would be an amazing idea to try and get people to call him M too, you know, Em, M,” she half shrugs, taking a sip from her milkshake, “It never caught on, but I got used to it, now it’s just weird calling him anything else.”

“And he calls you trouble because?”

“Because when we first met I got him in trouble. I had just moved here, like, it had been just a couple of weeks, and a kid that lived in our street was having a birthday party and his mum invited all the kids in the block and I don’t even remember what we did, but when the parents caught us, no one believed that it had been my idea.” She smiles at the memory, “I don’t think he liked me very much at the beginning, but our mums hit it off and since I was in the house next door and we were both the same age, they kept putting us together, one day he stopped ignoring me. The nickname stuck though, it annoyed me at first but at this point, I would get worried if he called me something else.”

"That's kinda sweet," he says and she can't help but laugh at him.

"Yeah."

"Tell me something you never told anyone else," he asks and she chuckles trying to think of something.

"You're full of questions today."

"Yeah, now tell me something."

She finally thinks of something but the thought that comes to her mind makes her stop smiling and look anxiously at him while chewing on the inside of her cheeks.

"I think I like girls too," she watches his expression closely, terrified that the way he looks at her would change, but he just stares back at her.

"You think?"

"I don't know, okay," she sighs, "there was this girl at school last year, and I think I had a crush on her."

"Why do you think that?"

"I don't know, I would get so distracted looking at her, and being around her just made me so nervous, doing the whole giggling and embarrassing myself thing," she pauses, waiting for a reaction, but he just nods encouragingly, "I didn't really stop to think about what it meant, you know, it affecting me like that until one day I just hit me and I didn't really know what to do with it."

"What do you want to do about it?"

"About her? Nothing, it's just that ever since the day I realized it I keep catching myself looking at other girls a little too long, and it's hard to figure out if I'm not lying to myself because I know I like guys and it's all really confusing and I don't know if I'm ready to do something about it or even tell someone."

"Wait, you really never told this to anyone?" He asks, narrowing his eyes at her, confusion clear on his face, and she shakes her head.

"I don't think I ever said it out loud."

"You must really trust me," he says almost as if he was thinking out loud, and she starts laughing, the laugh seeming weird against the anxious feeling in her chest.

"Yeah, I do," she says, softly, as she realizes that she truly means it.

"You know you don't have to do anything about it until you're ready, right?"

"What?"

"You can figure things out, there's no rush."

"Yeah, I know, but it feels good to tell someone."

"I'm here anytime you need me, love," Calum's face seems so sincere that she feels her heart swell with affection for the boy.

"I know."

"Okay, where do you wanna go next?"

______

"Hey," Emma greets happily, plopping down to sit next to Calum, who's sitting in the sand, "I see we're sharing this place now," she laughs, nudging the boy. They had been constantly running into each other there now, most of the time completely by accident.

"It's a cool place," Calum shrugs with a grin.

"I know, I found it," she says, mockingly, matching his grin.

"And now you're sharing it with someone you love, look at how beautiful," he matches her tone, making her roll her eyes.

"Idiot," she laughs, trying to sound annoyed but failing.

"What's up, love, what brings you here on this windy afternoon?" Calum asks, arms motioning around them in a dramatic form.

"I'm always here," she says, cocking her head.

"Fair," he agrees with a nod, and she raises an eyebrow at him.

"The real question is why are you here?"

"I was hoping I'd run into this girl," he starts, the smirk on his lips making her blush.

"Yeah?"

"I'll let you know if she shows up," he adds, and she shoves his shoulder.

"Asshole."

"What?" He asks, seemingly amused by her anger.

"Don't be bringing girls to my special spot," she argues, fighting the urge to pout as he keeps grinning at her.

"It's our special spot, love," he taunts, laughing and she narrows her eyes at him.

"I'm not afraid to fight you, Hood."

"You're so cute when you're angry at me," he jokes and she just glares at him, making him laugh harder, "I'm just messing with you, love, I was actually about to text you, see if you were coming here."

"Why?" She asks, suspicion in her tone.

"I got you a backstage pass for tomorrow," he brags, and her jaw drops. She had gotten very bad seats for the concert they would be opening for the following day because they said they couldn't get her a pass.

"You're kidding."

"I'm not," he says, chuckling at her disbelief.

"Don't play with my feelings," she begs, shaking her head.

"I'm not," he repeats, but she continues to disagree.

"No way."

"Yes way."

"Oh my god," she exclaims, grabbing his arm, and the amused expression comes back to his face.

"You're so easy to distract."

"What?"

"Ten seconds ago you wanted to punch me and now it looks like you're about to kiss me,” he says, his gaze dropping to her lips, before going back to her eyes.

"What? No, I, I wasn't," she tries to defend herself but he cuts her off.

"Relax, love, I know you can't resist me," he’s smirking and she just sits there, thinking of a comeback, blinking at him a few times and watching his face get smugger with every passing second.

"God, you're so full of yourself," she laughs, trying to find the will to look away.

"You love it.”

"Are you sure about that?"

"I am, you're walking around in my clothes, looking at me like this, there's no doubts, love," he tells her, his hand reaching for the sleeve of her -his- shirt and she glances down, pressing her lips together. She did mean to give it back to him, but she keeps forgetting it's with her.

"I was cold, it was in my backpack, I," she defends herself, looking back to his face to find the grin still in it.

"It's fine, love, I’ve accepted the fact I'll never get that shirt back," he chuckles and she frowns at him.

"I'll give it back to you, someday, not today though," she says, adjusting the shirt and closing her fists on the ends of the sleeves.

"See, easy to distract," he says, leaning back, but still not looking away and she laughs

"Oh, I'm just ignoring your comments.”

"So you're not thinking about how much you want to kiss me?" He pouts slightly before the smug look returns.

"No, I think that's you," she says, cocking her head and raising an eyebrow at him.

"Why would I be thinking about kissing myself?" He asks, jokingly, but something about the way he says it, makes her lose it and she starts laughing.

"Oh my God!" She says, covering her mouth, trying to control her laughter but failing.

“What?” He asks, laughing at her reaction, and just shakes her head.

“Nothing, I just,” she stops before finishing the sentence, the words that she was about to say getting caught in her throat while she thinks about them. Why was she about to say she loves him? Does she love him? Like love love him? She shakes her head to chase the idea away. She can’t be falling for him. It’s just Calum, there's nothing else there.

Right?

“You just what?” He asks when she doesn’t finish and she ignores the path her thoughts were going.

“You’re just really something else, rockstar.”

_____

Emma's not watching where she's going, she couldn't even if she tried, her vision is blurry and it is hard to breathe. She's not even sure where she is at the moment. She's just walking hoping once she's out the door she'll be able to think again.

She feels the cool air and notices the change in the lighting but her lungs still burn, she can't catch her breath even though she's really trying now. It makes her panic more, and that doesn't help with the suffocating feeling in her chest.

Something touches her and she jerks away, back hitting a wall, all sounds muffled by the weird noise her breathing is making.

"Love?" She's vaguely aware that the voice is talking to her, but she can't focus enough to figure out where it's coming from or who it belongs to. "Emma, look at me," the voice demands, sounding louder than before, closer maybe. She looks up, finding a blurry silhouette she recognizes.

"Cal?" She chokes, trying again to focus on something other than the burning, but failing.

"Emma, you need to breathe," he pleads, voice slightly panicking and she blinks, his face coming in and out of focus in front of her.

"I," she chokes again, bringing her hands to her face and sliding down to the ground. "I. Can't."

"Yes, you can, just follow me," he says, "in," he pauses and she tries to suck in a breath, "out" she lets the air out. "Again." she tries once more.

Emma doesn't know how long it takes until her breathing is steady again and she can finally focus on the boy kneeling in front of her. It seemed a lot but at the same time, not at all. The way Calum is holding his arms out for her, makes it seem like he was unsure if he could touch her, the worried expression on his face making her heart drop.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, pulling her knees to her chest, looking around herself. The boys were doing a gig and they were next to a side exit, hidden from the street by what seemed like a pile of boxes.

"Don't apologize," he huffs, as if she shouldn't be sorry for that, as if assuring her it was okay for her to feel that way, "are you feeling better?"

"I don't feel like something is squeezing my lungs so, I guess."

"Do you want help getting up?" He asks, offering her a hand. "I didn't want to let you drop to the ground, but I was afraid trying to hold you up would make it worse." His face is intense and she nods, taking his hand and letting him pull both of them up.

Emma looks down, steadying herself on her feet, before dropping into Calum, arms wrapping tightly around him. He holds her close, murmuring "you're okay" to her hair.

“Did you find her?” A voice comes from the door and she pulls away from Calum to look at Michael.

“Me?” She asks him, pressing her lips together while Michael leaps towards her.

“What happened?” He holds her by her shoulders, studying her as if he's searching for signs she's hurt.

“I just got a little overwhelmed, I’m fine,” she grunts, not liking how worried he looks.

“Are you sure?” he asks again.

“Yes.”

“I think “a little overwhelmed” is an understatement,” Calum says, and Emma glares at him. She really hates getting people worried.

“I was freaking out, Calum calmed me down, all it’s fine now.”

“Do you wanna leave?” Michael offers and she sighs.

“And miss your show? Not a fucking chance,” both boys look astonished and she laughs, “come on, last time I saw you play on an actual stage, there were like 10 people around me, I wanna see how you handle a crowd.”

“There were 11,” Michael tells her and she frowns.

“What?”

“There were 11 people around you."

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “can we go back inside now? Please?”

“Fine, but you’re staying backstage,” Calum tells her and she scoffs, turning to him.

“I can’t see how you handle a crowd if I’m not, you know, in the crowd,”

“And I can’t do that if I have to search for you every five seconds to make sure you’re okay,” Calum argues, and Michael looks between the two of them, frowning, before shaking his head.

“I’ll wait for you guys inside,” Michael says, and Emma glances at him, but he has already turned around and she watches as he disappears through the door.

“You don’t have to make sure I’m okay,” she argues, looking back at Calum.

“Love, please,” he pleads.

“Calum, I’m fine,” she assures him.

“Do this for me? Please?” His voice is soft as he rubs his neck, clearly trying not to get exasperated. She begins to say something, but he interrupts her, “okay, you’re fine, I just need to be sure you'll stay that way. Please.”

"Fine," she grunts, rolling her eyes.

“Thank you," he kisses her cheek, taking her by surprise, "let’s go,” he takes her hand and guides them inside.

Calum continues to hold Emma's hand, dragging her around as they wait for their time to go on stage. She feels like she should be annoyed by the hovering, but the warmth from his hand has such comforting energy, she doesn't mind.

When he finally lets go of her hand to take his bass and make sure it was ready to go, she can’t help but miss it. She follows the boys as they move to the stage, teasing Michael as he bounces full of energy from the excitement of playing.

"Wish me luck, love,” Calum moves closer to her, smiling as she waits by the edge of the stage, and gives her a quick peck on the lips, the movement seeming automatic, leaving Emma astonished as she watches him go into the stage, waiting in the dark for his cue.

“I’m not gonna kiss you, but you can wish me a good show too,” Michael winks at her, but she doesn’t have a response, standing slack-jawed, trying to remember how to breathe properly. “Shit, he broke you,” he teases and she sighs, focusing on him.

“Don’t you have a show to play?” She notes, tilting her head as the lights begin to flash on the stage and someone calls the time again. Michael frowns at her before running to his place.

“This boy will be the death of me,” she mutters under her breath as the drums start.

_____

"You're warm," Emma says, reaching the back of her hand to Calum's forehead. Not that she needs to, the heat is radiating from him. She's sitting beside him, leaning against the headboard, Michael and Luke sitting by the foot of the bed, the three of them playing a game of FIFA, and Ashton sitting in the computer chair strumming on a guitar.

"I'm fine," Calum answers, dogging her hand. His voice is much deeper than usual, and he looks sick, nose red, tired eyes, hair sticking out in every direction, and bundled up in a hoodie, the sleeves covering his hand as he holds the controller.

"No, you're not, but okay." She's trying to stop herself from staring. She shouldn't find his current state cute. But she does. She wants him to lay in her lap so she can run her hands through his hair and help him feel better. She shakes her head, trying to physically chase the thought away, looking back at the screen when the game ends, and Calum drops his controller.

"I'm out," he says, pulling a blanket and throwing it around his shoulders, "can't focus." He scoots closer to Emma while the boys restart the game.

"I think you have a fever," she says, turning to look at him.

"Yeah, maybe," he replies, head coming to lay on her shoulder.

"Shouldn't we do something about it?" She asks, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.

"It's fine, I just didn't sleep very well last night," he yawns, and she feels her heart drop.

"Hey, move forward a little," she says, moving from his side making him pout, but he does what she asks, and she moves so he's now sitting between her legs. "Now, come here," she pulls at him, and he moves closer, so he's laying against her.

"You're comfortable," he snuggles to her, yawning again, and she has to fight the urge to kiss the top of his head.

"So I've been told," she chuckles, running her hands through his hair.

She keeps up the motion, looking at the other boys and trying to ignore how warm she's starting to feel with the heat coming from Calum and the blanket around him. Ashton has picked up the controller abandoned by Calum and is trying to play while stealing glances at the boy. He notices Emma looking at him and raises an eyebrow as if asking if he was okay, and she shrugs in an "I don't know" motion, looking down at the boy on her chest. He seems fast asleep, breathing steady, eyes closed and she feels her heart picking up speed looking at him. And that's when it hits her. She does love him. She's in love with him. It isn't just an innocent crush. She’s been falling for him all this time, maybe longer than she realizes.

"He's asleep?" Michael asks her, breaking her away from her thoughts before they could shift to panic.

"I think so," she nods, moving Calum's hair from his forehead.

"Should we leave?" Luke asks, pausing the game.

"Well, I'm a little trapped here," she jokes, motioning to how the boy is using her as a pillow.

"I'm not sleeping, just keep playing," Calum grunts without opening his eyes. “I’m not letting you move, though. This is the most comfortable I’ve been all week,” he says, adjusting against her, his head laying on her chest and his arm going around her waist.

“Okay,” she chuckles, resting her cheek on the top of his head, hands finding his hair again.

“Your heart’s beating really fast,” he whispers to her, shifting his head so he can hear it better.

“Is it?” She asks, and he nods against her, settling more heavily against her, “I wonder why," she shrugs, hoping she could control her heart.

_________

"M, are you out here?" Emma calls, walking around the house and moving to the back. The lights in the house are off but she can hear music playing, which means that Michael is probably home alone. Relief fills her because she really needs to talk to him without worrying if someone is listening.

"M?" She calls again, getting closer to the room back there, the only source of light is one of its windows.

"Hey," a voice comes from behind her and she jumps, looking around to find blue eyes looking at her in the dark.

"Luke," she breathes, clutching her chest, trying to steady her heartbeat again, "you scared me."

"Sorry," he giggles and she notices the beer bottle in his hand. This is not a situation she wants to put herself in. If Calum is there too, she’ll have to deal with stuff she’s not ready to face.

"Love," she hears, on cue with her thoughts, as Calum and Michael come out to the backyard too, with bottles and grins matching Luke's.

"I didn't know all of you were here," she says, now just wanting to get out of there as fast as she can.

"So you weren't looking for me?" Calum pouts at her and she forces a laugh.

"I just wanted to talk to Michael, but it can wait, I'll leave you guys to whatever you are planning on doing," she starts walking backward to where she came from, Michael frowning at her, the "are you okay?" question all over his face, making her not notice Calum getting closer to her.

She mouths an "it's fine," but he's still frowning at her when Calum throws his arm around her shoulders.

"You don't have to leave, you can take a beer and talk to all of us," Calum tells her, pulling her closer and resting his chin on her head and she awkwardly wraps her arm around his waist.

"I can't stay, I," she mumbles, trying to come up with an excuse, "I told my mum I wouldn't be here long, it's late."

"Yeah, 'cause you never came here at night and ended up sleeping over," Michael says, raising an eyebrow at her and she glares at him.

"No, I can't stay," she detaches herself from Calum and looks at Michael.

"Can we talk tomorrow?" After they leave, she adds in her head and he nods.

"You don't have to ask, trouble."

"Okay, thanks, I'll see you all later," she kisses Calum's cheek to try and get him to stop looking at her like she just kicked a puppy, and waves at the other boys that start moving back into the room at the same time as she starts to leave.

"Love, wait," Calum calls her when she reaches the side of the house, and she stops walking, looking at the wall that separates her from her bedroom while he catches up with her. "What's wrong?" He asks, stopping in front of her, a few feet away. She notices he ditched the bottle.

"Nothing is wrong," she replies, defensively, leaning back into the wall behind her, "why would you ask?"

"You're running away," he takes a step closer.

"No, I'm not," she denies and he frowns at her.

“You’re avoiding me,” he states, sounding hurt and she sighs.

So he did catch up on that, she thinks to herself, trying to come up with an excuse. But she's not ready to be forced to deal with her feelings, especially not while Calum's looking at her, with a sad look on his face, trying to figure out what he did wrong.

“I’m not avoiding you,“ she finally tells him. It’s the truth, she’s not avoiding him, she’s avoiding the feelings that come with being around him.

"Don't lie, I know you," he tells her and her heart stops for a second. Could he know?

"I just wanted to talk, but it's not important," it's not a lie, not technically. Her feelings would still be just as messed up in the morning.

"Are you sure? You can talk to me," he offers, taking another step closer to her, leaving not much space between them. The idea seems ridiculous to her, trying to work through her feelings for Calum while explaining them to him of all people.

"Yes," she mumbles, trying to keep herself calm, “no, I’m sure, it’s no big deal.”

"Then don't run," he pleads, "stay," and she starts losing the battle she's fighting so she won't do something stupid, her gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips.

"I really can't," she mumbles, knowing that she wouldn’t take much more convincing and should just get out now if she really wants to.

"Please?" He stretches an arm to the wall behind her, pretty much trapping her in her place. He's so close now that it takes all her self-control so she won't just pull him towards her and kiss him.

Calum seems to be fighting a similar battle, as he can't keep his eyes on hers, and a smirk forms on his lips as she doesn’t move to leave.

They stay there, looking at each other, all of Emma's instincts telling her to just kiss him already, eyes dropping to his lips, when Calum decides for them, whispering "fuck it," before crashing his lips into hers.

His lips taste like beer, but she can't bring herself to care as she kisses him back, her hands tangling up in his hair. The logical side of her brain is screaming at her, telling her that she can't keep kissing him without telling him how she feels. That this means something different for her than it does to him. That she needs to stop and go home. Now. But Emma doesn't care about the smart thing to do. Not when Calum is kissing her like that. She doesn't care about how the wall is hurting her back as he presses closer to her or how she's sliding down it slowly as the intensity of it all makes her unsteady on her feet. She just kisses him with just as much enthusiasm as he's kissing her.

"Can the two of you stop making out for a second?" Michael's voice startles them and Calum pulls away giving her room to move as she feels her cheeks heating up walking closer to Michael.

“What’s up?” She’s rubbing the back of her neck, unable to look him in the eyes

"Does this," Michael gestures between Emma and Calum, "means you're staying?" He asks and both boys are looking at her, waiting for an answer.

"I guess?" She sounds unsure, but she doesn't want to leave now. She can deal with the consequences in the morning.

"Great, carry on," Michael says and leaves, making Emma frown at his shadow as it disappears on the path to the backyard.

"Come here," Calum calls, leaning against the wall where she was and taking her hand and pulling her towards him. She settles between his legs, her hands on his shoulders as his arms wrap around her waist. This way they are about the same height, making it harder for Emma to look away from his face.

"Thank you," he says and she gives him a puzzled look, "for staying, I've missed you." He brushes a strand of her hair from her face, and she places her hand on top of his leaning into it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean,” she sighs, “I didn’t mean to avoid you."

“So you were avoiding me,” he states, but there’s no judgment on his voice.

“Not you, never you."

“Then-” he starts to ask, but she kisses him before he can finish, “Love,” he pulls back after a beat and tries again.

“I don’t wanna tell you right now,” she whimpers, looking down and he cups her cheeks forcing her to look at him.

“Will you want to tell me at some point?” His voice is soft and his eyes intense and she can’t look away.

“Yeah, just not right now."

“Okay,” he says, dropping his hands back to her hips. “You can, you know” he trails off.

“Talk to you?" She asks and he nods. "I know,” she chuckles.

“Glad that’s settled,” he smirks, somehow pulling her closer and kissing her again.

***

Emma wakes up to the sound of the door closing and sits up startled before remembering where she is. She looks around to find Calum by her side, still asleep and Luke on the couch across from her, meaning Michael is the one that had just left. She carefully gets up off the couch she's in and follows him.

"Couldn't sleep?" She asks when she finds him sitting by the backdoor to the main house. Michael looks up at her and shakes his head.

"Wanna talk about it?" She asks and he shakes his head again. "Wanna play something?"

"It's the middle of the night," he tells her and she shrugs.

"When did that ever stop you?"

"I just wanted some air," he says.

"Oh," she pauses, "I'll leave you alone then," she begins to turn around.

"Just sit down, trouble," he demands and she chuckles.

"So you don't wanna be alone, got it," she says, sitting down beside him.

"Not really, but everyone was asleep."

"I mean," she yawns, "it is late."

"Yeah, I guess," he looks at her, shaking his head as if suddenly remembering something, "what did you want to talk about earlier?"

"Oh,” she pauses, searching for words, “remember how we talked about how I don't like Calum?"

"Yes," he says, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Well, I'm not sure anymore."

"You're not sure? What do you mean?"

“I think I'm in love with him,” she admits, biting the inside of her cheek.

“No shit,” he says with a scoff, “I was waiting to see which one of you would figure it out first."

“First? He doesn’t like me like that.”

“Babe, for someone as smart as you, you can be so fucking clueless."

“M, it’s not-”

“Okay, I’d usually let you figure shit out for yourself, but this thing between the two of you is getting ridiculous," he says, turning to her and sitting up straighter.

“Hey,” she starts to protest but he gives her a warning look that makes her stop.

“When was the last time the two of you were alone that didn’t end in a makeout session?” Emma opens her mouth to respond but closes it again because she can’t remember. “When was the last time you even considered kissing, dating, or whatever the fuck you're doing, someone else?”

“I don’t know,” she admits, ”but-"

“No buts, you need to fucking tell him.”

“But-”

“Emma,” she is taken aback by him using her name, “you need to tell him things have changed, you can’t just deny your feelings and act like the two of you aren't in some sort of relationship."

“M, I don’t know how,” she says, and he looks at her with disbelief, “I, I was trying to bring myself to tell him today, but I just couldn’t."

“Bullshit."

“The second I tell him, it’s real, and that means I can lose him, that if he doesn’t freak out on me 'cause he doesn’t feel the same and things just go to shit anyway.”

“If he doesn’t feel anything, this needs to stop, because you do,” she opens her mouth to argue but he cuts her, “you don’t want things to change, but they already have, you love him, so you can’t just go on when it means something else to you."

“I know," she breathes, looking down.

“Then just talk to him, please."

“I will, I just need to figure out how to bring it up."

“Trouble," he frowns at her, like he knows she's going to avoid it forever if she can.

“I’m not gonna hide for much longer okay? But I can’t just drop it on him, he’ll freak out, I know that and you know that too."

“He won’t," he says, but he sounds unconvinced.

“He will, he needs to go into this conversation knowing what’s,” she pauses, “I mean, he can’t think it’s coming out of nowhere."

"There's no such thing as the right moment, you just gotta get it over with."

"I can't lose him, M," she whimpers and he frowns at her.

"So you'd rather be miserable instead?"

"I'm not miserable."

"No, you're just avoiding everything so you won't have to deal with it and driving yourself crazy in the meantime," he says with such certainty, she just stares blankly at him. She knows he's right, but the thought is still terrifying, "please just talk to him."

______________

“Need a ride?” Ashton startles her for a second as the car stops beside her, but she smiles, pausing her music and leaning forward a little to look inside.

“Yeah, thanks, Ash."

“Come on,” he nods his head, motioning to the empty passenger seat beside him and she walks around the car and gets in.

“Woah, I never ride shotgun, this is weird,” she says, buckling the seatbelt. The comment makes him chuckle and shake his head, “No rehearsal today?” She asks, looking at the empty backseat as he starts moving.

“Luke can’t make it the usual time, so not yet."

“So you’re gonna go to M’s?” As she says the words her phone rings, Calum's ringtone makes her heart skip a beat.

“Yeah."

“That’s Cal telling me that, weird timing,” she scratches her head, and Ashton glances at her, a grin forming on his lips.

“What’s the deal with the two of you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not dating."

“Nope."

“But you like him?” She starts to deny it, but he glances at her, raising an eyebrow before looking back at the road.

“Is it that obvious?" She sighs and he nods.

"I can't say it isn't."

"Yeah, I do."

“And he likes you?”

“I don’t know."

“You don’t?”

“We never talked about it."

“But it’s kinda obvious."

“M seems to think so too, I’m not that convinced though."

“Why not?”

“I feel like he would’ve said something," she shrugs but Ashton chuckles.

“Well, you didn’t," he points out and she can't think of what to answer.

“Touchè,” she sighs, looking forward.

“So?” Ashton asks after a beat and she frowns at him.

“What?”

“Are you gonna say something?”

“I'm working on it," he gives a disbelief look at a stop sign and she shrugs, "if he rejects me, it will be really awkward."

"But then you'd know, and you can go from there. Not knowing makes things worse."

"Well, I really liked it when I didn't know how I was feeling, so not always," she jokes, forcing a laugh but he shakes his head.

"Nah, the truth is better than the denial, it's better when you have no questions."

“I’m just terrified that feelings are going to ruin what we have," she admits and he seems to ponder her words for a second.

“If it does, then it was never that good to start with.” He finally says, glancing at her and she processes his words, trying to think of something to say.

“Damn, you make it really hard to stay in denial.”

“Denying things just makes it more painful in the long run, sure it’s easier right now, but at what cost?”

“I just really don’t want to lose him, you know? I have a feeling that if I tell him I’ll just scare him away.”

“Then he’s an idiot.”

“He’s your best friend!” She protests with a chuckle and he grins at her with a shrug.

“That means I can say that.”

____________

Emma is sitting in the sand, pen in her hand staring at the open notebook in her lap, and still, she doesn’t know what she should write. Part of her hoped that she could write something, make the turmoil in her head calm down long enough for her thoughts to make sense. But looking at the page, the only words she could write were ‘’I love him, now what?" over and over. She’s trying hard not to fall down a spiral. She's torn between ‘’this wasn’t supposed to happen’’ and ‘’how could it have a different outcome’’. To think that she wouldn’t catch feelings was stupid, how could she not? And now she doesn’t know what to do. Should she tell him? Should she just bury the feeling and hope they would go away? Stay clear from him for a while and hope for the best? She doesn’t know. And she’s not finding any clarity about it. Biting the cap of her pen, she can’t figure it out.

“Hey," a voice says beside her, startling her and making her fumble with the notebook, shoving it in her backpack.

“Do you wanna give me a heart attack?” She says, turning her head to the boy that’s now sitting by her side.

“What are you hiding, love?” Calum asks her, trying to get the notebook from the still open bag.

“Nothing,” she squeaks before closing the bag, taking a breath, and putting it out of his reach. “Homework.”

“Sure,” his voice is heavy with sarcasm. “One day, you’ll have to let me read what you keep writing in that thing," he grins at her, making her heart skip a beat.

“No, I don’t,” she says in a squeak, shaking her head, trying to keep calm.

“Come on, I thought we were friends,” he pleads, brown eyes making her want to melt. She feels like being around him it’s so much harder now. How did she ever say no to him? How did she ever focus on anything else when he was right there?

“We are,” she says, turning her body to him.

“Then let me see it,” he turns to her too, trying to reach the backpack.

“No," she shakes her head, putting the bag behind her.

“Please, love,” he leans forward to try and get it from behind her, but she shoves his hand away, even if the pet name makes her heart flutter and her mind wonder if maybe showing him whatever she writes wouldn’t be the way she’s looking for to start the conversations she’s dreading.

“Nope,” she shakes her head, his face now only a few inches away and her heart is beating like it's trying to break out of her chest, her eyes being drawn to his lips as she tries to keep looking at his eyes. “It's nothing.”

“Then why can’t I see it?” He’s getting closer, a smirk on his lips, hands coming to lay on her knees.

“Because-” she’s fighting the urge to kiss him while trying to think of an excuse when he kisses her.

Her heartbeat is ringing in her ears while her hands move to his face, her finger lightly grazing his hair, and she kisses him back. His hands move to her waist, her back, and then he’s pulling away, leaving her chasing his lips before realizing he now has her bag in his hands.

“That,” she blinks, taking a deep breath and shaking her head, trying to clear her mind. “That was not fair.” She tries to take it back from him, but he stands up and holds it out of her reach. "This is so not fair," she cries, getting up too.

"I'm curious," he says, lowering his hand, and she tries to grab it again, making him hold it above his head.

"That doesn't make it fair, Calum," she complains, stepping closer to him, going on her tiptoes to try and lower his arm, but that just makes him hold it higher. "Cal, please," she pleads, pouting and looking at him through her lashes.

"You're cute, but no," he laughs, and she sighs, rolling her eyes and looking away, realizing two could play his game before turning back to him, grabbing his face with both hands, and pulling him down to kiss her again. His arm stays risen, but he kisses her back, pulling her by her waist with his free hand. She moves her hands from his cheek to his hair, deepening the kiss, one hand tugging at his scalp, the other slowly moving down the nape of his neck, lightly tracing his skin, making him shiver under her touch. He reacts by kissing her harder, and she has to fight back a smirk when his other arm finds her waist and pulls her even closer, and she hears the thud of the backpack falling on the sand. She tells herself she got what she wanted and should pull away, but she can't make herself do it. She wants to keep kissing him. And that thought makes her pull back, a little out of breath.

Calum looks down at her, breathing heavily, swollen lips, arms around her waist, and she squirms out of his hold, getting her backpack, grinning at him with a smug look on her face, and running away.

"Hey, who's being unfair now?" He protests before chasing her.

She manages to escape him a few times. Still, he grabs her from behind, lifting her off the ground, making her laugh, kicking her feet up before he puts her down and turns her in his hold.

"Okay, you win, I won't try to steal it again," he says, smiling at her. She's still laughing while she hangs the bag on her shoulders and he moves her hair away from her face, one hand staying on her cheek the other moving to her waist.

"I don't really believe it, but thanks," she giggles, looking up at him.

"Yeah, yeah," he nods, as if not registering what she’s saying, before tilting her face and kissing her again. She holds on to the front of his shirt while his hands tangle with her hair. She can't fight the butterflies in her stomach, the way her heart is beating, how she just wants him to keep kissing her. For as long as she can. A part of her is screaming at her, telling her that this is not helping, that this means something completely different to him. But why would he kiss her like that if he didn’t feel anything? And she also doesn’t want to get caught up in what it means. She just wants to keep kissing him. Is that wrong? It couldn’t be. It feels right. He feels right.

So she keeps kissing him. She lets herself enjoy every detail of it. The taste of his lips. The feeling of his hands in her hair. The steady beat of his heart under her hand, still holding his shirt. The content feeling in her chest.

The sun starts to go down, and she begrudgingly tells him she needs to go, making him pout at her before offering her a small smile while nodding and taking her hand, leading them away from the beach.

They reach the corner where they're supposed to go in different ways, and she lets go of his hand standing on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"See ya, Cal," she says, taking a step backward and smiling at him.

"Hey, come back," he says, taking her hand and pulling her back to him, kissing her again, too fast for her liking but making her giggle anyway. "Bye, love," he lets her go but doesn't move.

She looks up at him, before shaking her head and turning around.

"Bye, Cal," she says, and starts walking away when she decides something, and turning on her heels, taking her backpack off her shoulders.

"Calum," she calls for him, and he turns, walking back to her.

"What?" He asks with a confused look on his face.

"Here," she says, handing him the notebook.

"I was just messing with you, love, you don't need to show me if you don't want to," he says, accepting it but looking at her waiting for her to take it back. She doesn't.

"It's okay, just," she pauses, tucking her hair behind her ear and hanging the backpack on her back again, "just, don't judge me because of it."

"Never," he replies, and she gives him a small smile.

“You can’t be sure until you read it,” she jokes and he frowns at her but doesn’t say anything, "okay, see you soon, I guess," she says, walking away backward, hands holding the straps of her bag, still looking at him.

"Yeah," he replies, looking at the notebook in his hands and back to the girl slowly creating distance between them. "Emma," he calls her name, and she stops.

"Yeah?" She takes a step forward, and he does the same, pulling her to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders while she melts into his chest, arms around his center. The boy presses a kiss to the top of her head before letting go of her again.

"Are you really gonna let me go this time, or you gonna call me back after two steps?" She smiles, looking up to meet his eyes.

"You called me first," he replies, sounding a little offended but smiling at her.

"Okay, so I'm gonna go now," she points behind her but doesn't move.

He frowns, thinking for a moment, "wait."

"I'm not moving," she states, pressing her lips together so she won't start laughing.

“Just,” he exhales, pulling her by her waist with his free hand, making her gasp, and crashes his lips to hers. She kisses him back, her heartbeat going crazy, her hands on his cheeks, and he pulls back. “Okay, now you can go,” he adds, and she giggles, trying to steady her breathing.

“Goodnight, rockstar,” she points behind her again, but this time taking a step back.

“Night, love.” She’s smiling and for a moment she's not scared anymore.

"Calum," she starts and he chuckles.

"Yeah?" And maybe it was the soft look in his eyes or the warm feeling in her chest but she suddenly can't stop herself.

"I think I'm in love with you," she blurts out before covering her mouth as Calum's eyes widen at her.

"We're moving to London," he replies in a careful tone that makes her head start to spin.

"What? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I," he breathes and presses his lips together, "we were having a good time, I didn't want to ruin it."

"Ruin it? Why would it ruin anything?"

"Because I'm leaving, love, who knows when it will be just the two of us again." Something about the way he says it makes her understand him. He was saying goodbye. And that breaks her heart.

"Yeah," she mumbles, "I need to go."

"Love," he pleads and she shakes her head.

"I need to go 'cause I wanna be happy for you and I can't right now and that's really unfair to you."

"Love, I," he starts, but she cuts him.

"I'll see you later," she walks away fighting the urge to look back at him as she can still feel Calum's eyes on her.

****

Emma is having a hard time processing what Michael is telling her. He called her over the second she turned the lights in her room on, and she made her way out of the house to find him waiting for her on the sidewalk. Her mind's still hazy with thoughts about Calum, and she's not retaining anything he's saying.

"What?" She asks again, focusing on the boy in front of her, who looked like he could be bouncing up and down.

"We are moving to London," he repeats, and the words sink in, making her blink a couple of times.

"I," she shutters, "I know, Calum just told me, it's awesome, M," she smiles at his excitement, but the action feels weird like her mouth didn't want to comply.

"He did? He promised he'd let me tell you."

"He didn't really have a choice," she defends him and Michael narrows his eyes at her.

"What? Why?"

"I told him."

"You told him? You told-" he stops when he understands what she means, "no way."

"His reaction was to say he's leaving, so I'm pretty sure I just ruined everything."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It does if he doesn't feel the same way like I told you he didn't," she shrugs, trying not to lose it but he frowns at her.

"Trouble, come on, there's no way."

"Well, it's the only explanation I can think of."

"But-"

"M, I don't wanna talk about it. Please don't make me talk about it," she doesn't think she can handle the emotions threatening to break through, so she chooses to focus on the happiness the boy in front of her is feeling, "London, babe, it's happening."

"I still can't believe it," he says, letting her change the subject and he starts telling her about the meeting and she's grateful that he understands that she needs the distraction from the pain that's threatening to overcome her.

_______

Emma and Calum are alone Michael's backyard, and she's been panicking about this the whole week leading up to this last day together. Calum's been avoiding her and she can't say she blames him but she feels like she's going crazy waiting for him to do something.

"We need to talk," she blurts out after a long time staring at Calum, who's sitting in front of her, moving to sit on her heels so she could be at the same eye level as him.

"About what? Your endless love for me?" he smirks trying to be playful, but it feels weird and it makes her heart stop in its tracks, thinking that he didn't forget, he just didn't want to be the one to bring it up.

"Yes?" She's biting her lip and trying to read his expression as his smirk disappears and he stares at her dead in the eye.

"What?"

"Come on, I say I love you and you don't do anything, I was starting to think I imagined the situation," she complains but he continues to stare at her, the look in his eyes making her feel uneasy.

"Do you really feel the things you wrote?" He asks and she nods.

"Yeah," she says, feeling defeated watching his reaction.

"Emma," the use of her name stings, and her lip trembles as she waits for him to say something.

"What? What do you have to say? Do you just don't feel the same way? I need more than 'I'm leaving' as an answer."

"I can't do this," he gets up and enters the house, leaving her alone as her heart shatters in her chest.

She doesn't even have to get up to find out that he left, Ashton probably following him and Michael coming shortly after to find Emma with her head in her hands.

"Trouble, what happened?" His voice is careful, making her look at him, and he sees she's laughing uncontrollably.

"He left," she runs her hands through her hair, still laughing as she looks at Michael, who's now coming to sit beside her where Calum had been.

"I mean, I know my timing sucks," she chokes on her laugh as it hits her, "but he didn't have to run away. He ran away, M." She feels the knots in her throat and takes a deep breath, trying not to cry as Michael pulls her to his chest. He's trying to soothe her as she holds to the front of his shirt as her life depends on it. She feels like she's on the verge of tears now. Looking up she sees the uncertainty in Michael's eyes and she starts questioning everything. "You don't think I should've said anything."

"We're leaving, trouble," he tells her apologetically, and she grunts.

"I didn't know that!"

"You knew we were talking to them, you knew we went to London."

"Yeah, I knew they were talking to you, not that they were going to move you across the world before you were even done with high school," she protests and he flinches slightly, making her sigh. She's not trying to hurt him.

"Okay, but you really think something could happen now that you do?" He asks, and she rolls her eyes.

"I'm tired of you all saying that you're leaving, I know that I'm not stupid, but you need to stop acting as if I'll never see you again."

"It's not that, trouble."

"I'm not asking for a relationship, I just wanted him to know, I just wanted him to know and he didn't even react, Michael, what the hell does that even mean?"

"You know-"

"How he is?" She finishes and he nods, "yeah," she mumbles, "I gotta go."

"You're still coming to the airport, right?" He says with an urgent tone, as he follows her.

"Yeah," she mumbles, her voice not giving him any confidence as she gives him a quick hug and leaves.

She’s already in her room when she remembers Calum still has her notebook and that she was supposed to give him his shirt back.

______

Getting up from her bed is harder than she ever thought it could be. Emma doesn't know if she did fall asleep at some point. She definitely feels like she's been staring at the ceiling all night. She's not even tired. She just doesn't want to move. Every muscle of her body is telling her that she should just lay there forever. But she can’t. Her phone hasn't stopped buzzing for at least ten minutes. She doesn't have to check to know it's Michael. She can picture him in the window, waiting for a sign of life to come from her room, so she kicks the covers and gets up feeling like standing on her feet it’s the hardest thing she did. It sure as hell feels like it.

The curtains are staring back at her while she puts her hair up in a ponytail and hopes she doesn't look like she's feeling. She picks her phone up from the desk and opens the window. Like she suspected Michael's standing by the window, back to her, phone to his ear.

"Hi," she answers the call, and he turns, looking relieved to see her.

“Trouble,” he breathes, and she waves to him, faking a smile she knows wasn’t going to convince him.

“M."

“You good?” He asks, and she nods, waiting for him to say something more. “You sure?”

“No, but what’s up?”

“I just wanted to make sure I’d be able to say goodbye, we’re leaving soon,” he replies, looking tense studying her face as he leans into the window frame.

“Oh,” the fact they were leaving that day had slipped from her mind in the haze, “how soon?”

“The flight is in a couple of hours, they're picking me up in a few,” he looks unsure of what to say next, and it’s breaking her heart so she takes a breath and buries her feelings as deep as she can.

“I’m still going if that’s okay, just give me five minutes to get dressed and I’ll be right over,” she tells him, moving back away from the window. “See you in a bit, M.” She hangs up and turns around, opening her wardrobe, staring into it for a while before picking a pair of jeans and a jumper she stole from Michael.

She gets dressed chanting to herself, “you’re fine, put yourself together, today is not about you” and tells her mum where she’s going before moving to the house next door, where Michael is waiting for her, sitting outside.

“Big day, huh?” She says to him, trying to smile.

“Trouble,” he tilts his head, looking at her with scrunched-up eyes, and she can help but sigh.

“M, I’m good, let’s talk about how by the end of the day you will be in London, living the dream.” She sits beside him. “This is huge,” she states, nudging him and offering a smile. A real one this time.

“I still can’t believe it’s really happening,“ he tells her, and Emma chuckles.

“Well, believe it. Because it is," she says, nudging him, "all packed and ready to go?" She asks, and the boy nods.

"I'm sure I'll forget something, but I do have all I could think of."

Before she could reply, a car honks and stops by the house, suddenly she's helping load Michael's things and sitting in the back between him and Ashton. The ride makes her feel weird, she's extremely conscious of Calum sitting in the front, but the happiness coming from the boys is contagious. She can't help but get excited for them.

Stopping in the airport makes everything real, and she's holding back tears while she pushes one of the bags listening to their voices but not really registering anything they’re saying.

Liz is checking in all the luggage when Ashton throws his arm around Emma's shoulder.

"You feeling okay, Em?" He asks low enough only she will hear.

"Not really," she whispers back, "I'm really gonna miss you guys," she says as her eyes start filling with tears, and he squeezes her shoulders while she blinks, trying not to cry.

"I'm gonna miss you too," he replies, and a stubborn tear rolls down her cheek. Soon tears are streaming down her face, and he pulls her to his chest, stroking her hair.

"I told you she would cry like a little girl," Michael teases from behind her, and she lets out a tearful chuckle turning to him.

"I am a little girl, I'm allowed to cry like one," she jokes, wiping the tears from her face. "Okay, I'll stop," she says, and the tears stop for a while before starting back again, making Michael step forward and pull her to him, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and she wraps hers around his middle.

"You can cry," he says, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"Nope, I'm not crying," she says, breathing him in and letting it calm her down. "See, I'm good," she looks up, and the tears stop coming.

"If you say so," he replies, caressing her hair.

Liz comes back, and they move to the gates. She looks around at the boys, and she doesn't know what to do.

She hugs Luke first, then Ashton, who lifts her from the ground and makes her chuckle. Michael pulls her towards him the second she lets go of Ashton, and she presses a kiss on his cheek when he finally lets go.

"I'm gonna miss you guys," she tells all of them, looking at Calum that shoves his hands in his pockets and avoids her gaze, so she steps back, smiling and waving while they go through security. Only then she starts crying again.

She stands there, tears streaming down her face watching them move past security. She waits until the plane takes off. They said they’ll call once they're settled. It's the next day when Michael Skypes her, Ashton, and Luke appearing shortly to complain about how cold it is. But Calum doesn't. He doesn't talk to her that day or the next. After a week, she stopped expecting it. But she keeps hoping he will.

_______

The song she plays with Calum is sparks fly by Taylor Swift.

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