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cakesunflower · 5 years

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Lucky Shot in Paradise [Bartender!Calum One Shot]

Summary: There’s a beautiful new waitress in the diner across from Calum’s bar. Calum can’t wait to get to know her.

First, They Meet. (Paradise)

Calum’s favorite diner had a new waitress. He’d been going to Paradise Diner for a few years now, grabbing his morning coffee before school or work or breakfast on Sundays with the boys. He was on first name basis with all of the waitresses, was always given a free slice of cheesecake on his birthday despite him offering to pay for it every year. It had seemed like fate when he and one of his best friends managed to open up their own bar right across the two way street from Paradise. Getting morning coffee had never been easier.

He got to the diner, same time as always, just forty minutes or so before noon for his cup of coffee. He’d worked til last call last night, until about five in the morning, got about four and a half hours of sleep in before needing to wake up to head to the bar. There was a football game on and the bar would be packed with men who didn’t have work or had a break from their jobs to come to the bar and yell at the TVs over drinks. The cup of coffee he’d had after his shower this morning wouldn’t hold him over—he needed a bigger one of the diner’s finest.

“What can I get for you?”

Calum glanced up at the sound of the unfamiliar voice from where he’d been bracing himself on the front counter of the diner. A young woman stood on the other side, probably around his age; Calum had never seen her there before, yet he felt the wind getting knocked out of him at the sight of her. She was pretty, stunningly so, with skin just a shade lighter than his, warm brown eyes and hair dark enough to be mistaken for black. And, somehow, she looked unexpectedly attractive in the sunny yellow and white collared dress of the diner uniform, the color appealing against her skin.

“Uh.” Calum blinked, off guard for a brief moment before his hunched shoulders straightened. She looked at him, patient with a friendly smile on her face, hands braced on the counter. “Just a large coffee to go, black. Thanks.”

She nodded, reaching for the to go cups on the shelf in the back before grabbing the freshly made pot of coffee. Calum couldn’t help but keep his gaze on her, her dark hair tied back into a ponytail with thin tendrils loose to frame her face, pink lips mouthing something until Calum realized she was singing along to the song playing through the diner. It made his lips curl up into a small smile.

“Haven’t seen you here before. Are you new around here?” Calum wanted to face palm after the words slipped out of his mouth. Are you new? Of course she was fucking new if he hadn’t seen her before today.

Fortunately, she didn’t find his inquiry strange or invasive as her dark eyes met his, a smile stretching across her lips. “Mhm,” she nodded, pouring the drink in the cup before backtracking. “Well, I’m new here, obviously,” she added with a breathy chuckle, gesturing to the diner. “But I’ve lived in the city for most of my life.”

Calum nodded, feeling slightly betrayed by the universe that he never ran into her before. But it was a big city, so it wasn’t at all surprising. Still, just one look at the girl in front of him and Calum was wishing he’d ran into her sooner. “Me too,” he offered, arms folded on the counter top as she grabbed a black lid for the cup. Calum nodded towards the doorway. “I work at the bar across the street. Lucky Shot.”

Recognition flashed across her dark eyes as she came back to stand in front of him, handing his hot cup. “I’ve been meaning to drop by for a while,” she confessed with a smile. She did that a lot—smile; it was something Calum found himself liking the sight of. “But between working here and my other job and school, it gets a bit busy.”

“Where else do you work?” Calum inquired as he pulled out his wallet, before pausing as his head snapped up at her. “You don’t have to answer that, I mean, if it’s too, like, invasive or—”

God, would he shut up? What was with his sudden issue of not being able to keep his words in his mouth? One look at the pretty girl in front of him and suddenly the connection between his brain and mouth was lost. Calum felt the heat creeping up his neck and face as he fumbled for the money for the coffee. He should just leave before he embarrassed himself.

“No, no, it’s okay.” Her smile widened, and Calum could detect the hint of amusement dancing in her dark eyes as she regarded him. Alright, maybe she didn’t think he was a complete fool yet. She then proceeded to tell him that she was a writer for a literary magazine at her university, where she was working to get her masters and hoping to land a job at the publishing agency she’d interned at for a few summers. The way she gave away that information, so casually and conversationally, relaxed Calum a bit for feeling like a fool just moments ago.

“So reading and writing?” Calum asked with an interested smile, ring clad fingers wrapped around the cardboard cup, knowing he had to get to work but not wanting to move from the stool. “That’s your thing?”

She grinned happily and offered a nod. “Sure is, ever since I moved to America and my parents said I didn’t have to be a doctor or lawyer like my cousins.” At the raise of Calum’s eyebrows, her cheeks flushed slightly, shyly adding, “I’m from Pakistan.” Calum practically melted at the way she said Pakistan, the name slipping from her tongue without sounding at all Westernized. “So, you know, doctors and lawyers are the way to go.”

Calum mirrored her smile. “But not for you,” he concluded, feeling proud for this stranger who didn’t have to indulge in a career she had no interest in.

“Not for me,” she repeated with a satisfied smile, her dark eyes never leaving Calum’s, his own taking in the sweet of her long lashes that framed her pretty brown irises.

He wanted to stay; God, he wanted to stay and get to know her more, but Calum’s gaze flickered to the clock behind her on the wall and forced out a breath. “I’ve gotta run,” he reluctantly spoke, pushing himself off the stool and onto his feet, his gaze meeting hers once again as he smiled. “But come by the bar when you can. Your first drink’ll be on the house.”

She raised her eyebrows, but the smile still tugged on her lips. “Are you allowed to do that?”

Calum was already walking backwards towards the door, drink in hand, offering a boyish shrug and grin. “’S my bar. Can do whatever I want.” He caught sight of the surprised yet amused expression on her face, making him smirk. Right when he reached the door, however, Calum paused when he realized he never introduced himself. “’M Calum, by the way.”

The pretty waitress smiled, letting out a light laugh as she picked up the rag to wipe the counter. “Sana.”

Pretty name for a pretty girl.

First Free Drink (Lucky Shot)

Saturday nights were always, expectedly, busy at the bar. The music was louder, as were the TVs so the patrons could hear them, the pool balls would be clinking together often and the walls vibrated with lively chatter. Both Calum and Luke, his best friend and co-owner of the bar, were behind the counter serving drinks and bowls of peanuts to go with them. The lights were bright, neon going around the perimeter of the room, framing the 70’s and 80’s band and movie posters that were on the red brick walls.

As Calum handed a pint of beer to a regular, his gaze, not for the first time tonight, casted over towards the door. He felt ridiculous, pursing his lips, constantly checking to see if she’d walk in. They’d met for the first time nearly a week and a half ago, but Calum had seen her multiple times since then, every time he’d walk into the diner for his morning cup of coffee or when he and the boys would grab lunch. His friends had most definitely teased him, after momentarily recovering from their shock of Calum so openly ogling after her when he wa the kind to keep those kinds of reactions to himself. But fortunately, for all their jokes and jabs, none of them had been in front of her. At least they’d granted him some mercy.

“Have you ever heard of the saying, a watched pot never boils?” Luke’s teasing words pulled Calum from his thoughts, his brown eyes gaze meeting the bright blues of his best friend’s next to him. When Calum blinked in confusion from being yanked from his mind, Luke snickered. “If you keep looking at the door, man, she’s never gonna walk in. Relax.”

Calum huffed, nearly affronted, as he answered for a round of shots from the group sitting at his end of the bar. “I am relaxed,” he countered with a frown before smoothing his brows to smile at the group once he gave them their drinks. Turning back to face Luke, he awkwardly added, “I’m just—”

“Eagerly anticipating her arrival?” the blonde smirked, finding his friend’s crush all too amusing. Truthfully, it was refreshing. It’s not like Calum hid his emotions—he didn’t, at least not around the boys. But when it came to relationships, he was guarded, slow to make any moves. It was just how he was; he liked to be cautious, didn’t want to dive head first into something and risk getting his skull cracked. That being said—watching him be so openly intrigued with the waitress across the street was interesting, to say the least. When Calum’s lips thinned into a line, Luke rolled his eyes and used the dish towel thrown over his shoulder to lightly slap it against the brunette’s shoulder, turning to face the shelf of drinks behind them. “If she said she would come, then she’ll show up. Don’t freak out. Take a shot.”

Honestly, Calum didn’t know what his deal was. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a girl so deeply engraved in his mind. He’d only known Sana for a week and a half and their conversations weren’t too long every time he saw her, since she was working, except that one time he’d come to the diner on his lunch break by himself, right when Sana was about to take hers. And somehow, for some reason, right when she saw him walk in, she decided to take her lunch break at her place of work and joined Calum. After profusely making sure he was alright with it—which he was because, seriously, why would he say no?

They got to know each other a bit more then. Talked about their lives, their childhood, everything they could think of in the span of an hour long lunch break. Calum left Paradise feeling like he’d known her his entire life.

Now, as every moment passed by and Lucky Shot was filled with patrons that weren’t Sana, Calum wondered if he was the only one who’d foolishly felt an instant spark of connection.

It wasn’t until around nine o’clock when Calum was facing the shelf, putting away a bottle of vodka after making a drink, when he heard a familiar voice sound over the noise. “I was told my first drink would be on the house.”

Calum spun around, feeling his heart thud at the sight of the girl sitting on the other side of the bar in front of him. Sana sat there, a smile on her glossy lips and colorful neon lights splashing across the brown skin, dark eyes glimmering as she eyed him knowingly. He hoped his smile wasn’t too wide, too eager, as his heart hammered beneath his ribs and skin fired excitedly at her presence. She was here. “You were,” he confirmed with a nod. “What’ll it be?”

Sana’s grin widened. “Whiskey neat.”

Calum reached for the glass to make her drink, promptly ignoring the smirk Luke was sending his way from down the bar as he poured the drink into the glass before handing it to Sana. “You here by yourself?” he questioned, bracing himself with his hands on the bartop, rings clattering against the wooden slab as he placed his palms down.

Sana took a sip of her drink, scrunching her face delightfully, adorably, at the taste before giving a shake of her head. “Came with friends,” she informed him, nodding her head towards where the pool tables were. Calum followed her gaze to a group of newcomers, all grinning and chattering with bottles of beer and pool sticks in their hands.

He looked back at Sana, who was still looking at her friends, and allowed himself a moment to take her in. She looked like she was glowing under the colorful neon lights of the bar, and for the first time she had her dark hair down as opposed to it being in a ponytail or braid, perfectly straight and reaching her lower back. There was something evoking about her sitting there, in front of him and in between a bunch of men hooting at the televisions for whatever games they were watching, looking comfortable with an easy smile on her face and lights coloring her skin. Calum wondered how she did that; wondered how she could look like she belonged in a place she’d never been to before, look picture perfect sitting in front of him nursing a glass of whiskey.

“Not gonna join them?” Calum asked, casting a glance in the direction of her friends before looking back at Sana. He felt something tighten in his throat to see her brown eyes already on him, eyeing him from over the rim of her glass as she took a sip.

There was a smirk on her shining lips once she lowered the now empty glass, folding her arms on top of the bar as she leaned forward a bit, gaze never leaving Calum’s. “Not just yet,” Sana hummed over the boisterous noise of the club. “I wanna chat with my favorite bartender for a little.”

Calum’s eyebrows shot up, careful not to show the surge of excitement that rushed through his body at her jovial words, despite the warmth creeping up his neck. “Favorite bartender, eh?” he grinned, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and filling her glass again. “How’d I earn that title already?”

He pushed the glass towards her, grating against the wooden bartop as Sana picked it up. “Since my first drink was free and you filled up my glass without me having to ask,” she giggled, the sound familiarly enticing a kind of warmth in Calum’s chest. Sana raised the glass at him, saying a foreign sounding, “Shukria,” before taking a sip. Calum quirked an eyebrow at that, aware she spoke a different language, and taking the curious expression on his face into account, Sana smiled, “It means thank you in Urdu. The more you know, huh?”

Calum was about to respond to a customer two seats over before Luke swooped in, taking over, allowing the brunette to turn his attention back to the girl in front of him. “How d’you say you’re welcome in Urdu?” he asked, genuinely intrigued. He was always one to want to know more about other cultures, no matter the capacity. Plus, Calum would be lying if he said his heart didn’t leap excitedly when Sana spoke in a tongue different than his own.

“Meher-baani,” she told him, finger absently trailing around the rim of her glass before she chuckled with a quick shake of her head. “But that sounds so. . . Fancy,” she decided with an adorable scrunch of her face. “So I just stick with the English phrase.” Calum let out a low chuckle as she took a sip of her drink, before her eyes widened and she lowered the glass. “Oh! Or if you just wanna be simple, you can also say, ko’ii baat nahiin, which translates to it’s no problem. That’s much better.”

His smile widened, using the rag to wipe down the bar before bracing his hands on top once again. “Well, in that case,” Calum started, giving Sana a joking yet sincere bow of his head as he repeated in what he hoped was at least a somewhat accurate pronunciation, “Ko’ii baat nahiin.”

Sana’s cheeks pushed up as a wide grin took over her face once the phrase fell past Calum’s lips. His pronunciation was surprisingly great, getting all the right accents in despite his own Australian one, the phrase being spoken in a raspy, deep tone Sana found herself enjoying. She also felt something else, something fluttering in her stomach, at the genuine interest Calum was showing in her language, even if it was just through a phrase or two. And when he mirrored her grin, catching onto her approval of him speaking Urdu, that fluttering intensified all the more as Calum let out another, almost embarrassed, chuckle, pulling his lower lip into his mouth as he continued to wipe at the spotless bartop.

Sana took a sip of her drink, eyes never leaving the tall man in front of her, entranced with how his lashes brushed his cheeks and curls fell across his forehead. Favorite bartender, indeed.

Sister’s Approval (Paradise)

“Oh, man, I missed this place,” Mali grinned, settling into the baby blue booth opposite of Calum, happy eyes looking around the diner she hadn’t been to in a while. Her nails tapped the laminated menu sitting on the table, eyes still searching as she leaned forward and whispered to her brother, “Where’s that waitress you’ve been talking about?”

“Oh, Jesus, Mal,” Calum huffed out a laugh, not surprised that his older sister wanted to catch sight of the pretty girl Calum could never get tired of seeing. It’s been over a month since he met Sana, the two of them becoming fast friends with him coming to the diner, her visiting the bar, and the two of them finding time to hang out during their off hours. Unsurprisingly, the more time he spent with Sana, Calum found himself falling faster and harder. Then his eyes caught sight of the very woman invading his thoughts and he practically hissed to the blonde across from him, “She’s coming.”

Mali sat up excitedly, dark eyes lighting up just as Sana walked over with a smile. “Good afternoon,” she greeted, her voice melodic and making that boyish smile appear on Calum’s face automatically. “How’re we doing today?”

“Hey, Sana,” Calum returned, hands on his knees and fingers tapping against them. He was well aware of his sister’s amused staring, opting to ignore her for a moment as his gaze remained on the girl standing next to their booth. “We’re, uh, yeah we’re good.” Then, gesturing to Mali, he added, “This is my sister, Mali. Mali, this is Sana.”

Sana’s eyes flickered to the other woman, a smile lighting up her face as she pressed the notepad to her chest and held her right hand out. “Oh, my God, hi! It’s so great to meet you, Cal talks about you all the time.”

Mali smiled but Calum knew his sister, knew that her smile was both thrilled to meet the girl Calum couldn’t shut up about, and intrigued at Sana’s ease of calling him Cal. Like he knew her, Mali knew her brother, and she knew that nicknames were something Calum was weirdly picky about. So this girl, who Mali only knows through text and FaceTime conversations with her brother, calling him Cal was interesting, to say the least. “Good things, I hope,” Mali smiled, shaking Sana’s hand. “He’s mentioned you quite a bit, too. I’m happy to finally meet you.”

Calum’s smile became slightly strained as he shot his sister a look, which wasn’t missed by Sana as her own gaze flickered over to him. He’s mentioned her to his sister? Sana pushed back the jolt of excitement she felt, all the while Calum felt his skin firing up. Mali really knew how to put him out there, huh?

After the formalities, Sana pointed her pencil at Calum. “Your usual?” she questioned, jotting down the order after Calum nodded, before looking at Mali. “Do you need a few more minutes to look over the menu?”

“Mmm,” Mali hummed, looking over the menu quickly before giving a shake of her head. She said her order, finishing off with a smiling “thank you,” before Sana gave them a nod.

“I’ll be back with your drinks,” she smiled, taking their menus and leaving.

And as soon as she was gone, Mali slapped her hands on the table top and shot Calum a wide eyed look. “She’s so cute!” she exclaimed as quietly as she could manage, her jaw ajar as she stared at her flushed brother incredulously. “There better be a good reason as to why you haven’t asked her out yet!”

“Relax, will you?” Calum hushed, a bit too paranoid that Sana, or one of the other waitresses, will hear. The bartender wasn’t known for putting his feelings out there so openly, and he wasn’t going to voice them or act on them until he was completely ready. There was also the uneasy knot in his stomach that told him Sana probably didn’t feel that way about him, probably only saw him as a friend and nothing else. Calum was unsure if he was willing to face the rejection, restless yet weirdly content in staying in the safe zone of being friends. “I will when. . . When the time is right.”

Mali snorted, unconvinced as she leaned back in the seat, raising a dubious eyebrow. “When the time is right?” she repeated before rolling her eyes and looking away. “Yeah, alright, little brother. That’s a plan.”

Calum crossed his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his leather jacket stretching a he grunted, near poutily, “Don’t patronize me.”

Before Mali could respond, the amusement still fresh in her eyes, Sana returned with their drinks, putting Calum’s Coke and Mali’s Ginger Ale in front of them. “Your food should be out in a couple of minutes.”

“Thank you,” Mali smiled, hands wrapped around her dewy glass before she tilted her head at Sana. “Hey, if you’re free tonight, a couple of our friends are in this, like, Indie band and have a show tonight at nine. Wanna join?”

If Calum could kick Mali under the table without making it at all obvious, he would. Instead, he was digging his nails into his arms through the leather jacket, clenching his jaw together and hoping his eyes weren’t as wide as they were trying to go as he stared at his sister, incredulity flooding him. Mali made it a point not to look at him, keeping her gaze on Sana, who was blinking in surprise at the sudden invite. Calum loved his sister with every fiber of his being but he was ready to throttle her.

“Oh, um,” Sana sounded, looking unsure as her dark eyed gaze slid over to Calum, who hesitantly returned her stare. She was looking to see if he was okay with her coming, but wasn’t sure what to make of the small smile on his face and a look in his eyes she couldn’t figure out. Looking back at Mali, Sana added, “I don’t wanna intrude.”

“You’re not intruding if you’re invited,” Mali easily responded, quirking her perfectly done eyebrows as she absently twirled her straw in her drink. “We’d love for you to join us. Right, Calum?”

Both women were now staring at him—Mali with an encouraging and expectant raise of her eyebrows and Sana with a look that Calum could describe as. . . Hopeful. Or maybe he was completely reading her wrong. Still, that false sense of hope that she, too, felt the same had Calum clearing his throat lightly as he nodded. “Yeah, yes. We would. I think you’d, uh, have fun.”

Mali bowed her head a bit at Calum’s response, letting her blonde her curtain the right side of her face, shielding herself from Sana as she mockingly mouthed at her brother, “Smooth,” which only brought Calum’s attention to the way he felt the back of his neck heating up. Maybe if he swallowed one of his chunky rings and choked on it he wouldn’t have to sit through this. Calum genuinely felt like he was about to burst into flames for no fucking reason other than the fact that his sister invited the girl he couldn’t keep off his mind to hang out with him tonight.

Which, truthfully, Calum was quite excited for. He loved spending time with Sana. But it also made him feel like a school boy with a crush. It was disheveling.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Calum groaned quietly once Sana left, rubbing his hands down his face before staring at his sister incredulously.

Mali grinned, unapologetic, grasping her straw between her fingers. “Just tryin’ to help my little brother out,” she hummed before taking a sip.

Calum put his hand on the table, leaning forward towards her as he raised his eyebrows pleadingly and whispered, “Stop.”

She leaned forward too, smirking. “Never.”

Somebody Else (Lucky Shot)

It was surprising that the glass that Calum had been cleaning for the past ten minutes hadn’t shattered in his grip. It was more surprising that he hadn’t yet tossed it at the head of the fucker that was currently flirting his ass off with an all too compliant Sana. There was a tight, painful knot in the center of his chest and a bitter taste in the back of his throat that wasn’t due to the shot he took with a group of patrons who asked him to join for a round.

She was smiling. They were sitting at one of the smaller round tables towards the wall opposite of the bar, just the two of them leaning towards each other with their beers on the table and grins on their faces. The bar wasn’t too busy, so Calum unfortunately had an unobstructed view of Sana and whatever the fuck his name was—Mark or Matt or whatever— and his teeth were beginning to ache from the tension in his jaw.

Over two months. That’s how long he’s known Sana, that’s how long he’s quietly harbored his feelings for her without letting her know. He’s thought about her, fantasized about her, written about her, talked about her, dreamt about her—done every fucking thing except tell her. He waited too long, stayed silent for no reason other than stupid hesitation, and now he had to stand behind the counter and watch as some guy she’d met the other day made her smile the way that melted his heart.

“. . . Hello? Excuse me? Hello?”

“So sorry about that!” Luke’s voice pulled Calum out of his reverie, blinking himself back into reality as he watched Luke hastily place a beer in front of the exasperated man sitting at the bar, who’d been trying to get an absent Calum’s attention for the past few minutes. “Cal,” Luke huffed, nudging his friend towards the other end of the bar, watching as Calum ran his ring clad fingers through his hair, head bowing in mild sheepishness. “You can’t let it distract you.”

“Easy for you to say,” Calum glowered quietly, tossing the rag on the shelf under the bar, leaning his lower back against the bar as he crossed his arms over his chest. At least he couldn’t see Sana anymore. But then his nails dug into his arms because he heard her tinkling laugh over the music, and Calum let out a slow breath as his eyes met Luke’s. “The girl you like isn’t sitting in your bar flirting with some prick.”

Luke let out a sigh, scratching at the facial hair on his jaw as the concern flickered across his face. His own fingers itched to run through his hair but it was tied back into a bun, obstructing him from doing so. “Dude, that’s the fourth customer you’ve been too distracted to serve in the past hour,” he finally said, his own tone lowered as he shot a quick glance to where Sana was. “I know it sucks but—”

“But I can’t do anything about it,” Calum ground out through teeth gritted in frustration. It was his own damn fault. With a huff, Calum pushed himself away from the bar and Luke took a step back. “’M steppin’ out for a smoke.”

The bar wasn’t too busy, being a Tuesday night, so Luke could handle it himself for a few minutes. Calum didn’t dare glance Sana’s way as he grabbed his jacket and walked past her table, hands clenching into fists in his pockets as he stepped outside the bar and leaned against the brick wall. The cigarette did little to relax him, the long drag burning him familiarly as he propped the bottom of his right foot against the wall, blowing out the smoke a moment later.

Stupid. He was so fucking stupid for just standing idly by, letting his nerves get the best of him and restrain him from acting upon his feelings. How many times did he spend just admiring Sana whenever they were together, completely taken by her beauty? How many nights did he spend complaining to his friends about how much he liked her and how quickly it all happened? How many beats had his heart skipped every time he saw Sana smile or heard her laugh or listened intently to her speaking her native tongue? How many dreams did his mind attack him with, all filled with Sana and the life he vividly could picture himself having with her?

His chest was being weighed down by self-degradation and pity, hating himself for not listening to his sister and his friends and his own damn heart. Now all he could do was watch as the only girl Calum had so quickly and readily fallen for get swept off her feet by someone that wasn’t him.

It was something short of a tragedy; Calum never allowed himself to be vulnerable for someone else, and the one time he did, he let them slip right through his fingers.

The door to his left swung open while he took another drag, damn near choking on the smoke when Sana stepped onto the sidewalk, her arm looped through the guy she’d been enamored with all night. Her long hair was in her face as she shook it off, the sound of her laughter reaching Calum’s ears until her dark eyes locked with his. “Calum! Hey,” Sana smiled, stepping over to him with the guy still on her arm, easy smiles on both of their faces.

Calum straightened. He wanted to punch the guy’s smile right off, but he wasn’t a violent person. Mostly. There was a pathetic, small burst of satisfaction when Calum noticed he was taller than the man in front of him, as if that made him better than the guy, which it didn’t but whatever. It was difficult to pull back his pettiness. Calum eyed the man, short dark brown hair and blue eyes that seemed dark under the street lamps, before letting his gaze fall on Sana. “Headin’ out already?”

“Yeah,” Sana responded, a hint of apology in her voice. “Mason and I got tickets to see Venom.”

Calum hoped the ingenuine smile he wore didn’t slip off his face at that; he and Sana had been talking about wanting to see that same movie just a few days ago. He’d wanted to watch it with her. Blowing out a cloud of smoke and ignoring the sudden emptiness in his chest, Calum nodded. “You guys have fun, then.”

Mason smiled, oblivious to Calum’s desires of wanting to throw a punch decorated with rings to his face. But Calum’s eyes were on Sana, who offered him one of her pretty, breath stealing smiles as she and Mason began walking past him, and Sana reached out to give Calum’s free hand a squeeze. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promised, and before Calum could loop his fingers with her and pull her into him the way he so desperately wanted to, she let go and was off, walking down the sidewalk with her arm still looped around Mason’s.

Calum watched them go, throat working roughly to fruitlessly loosen the tightness, feeling that hollowness in his chest grow as he watched the two of them go, the sounds of their laughter floating back. Fuck, he wanted to pull her right to him. Wanted to yell down the sidewalk how he felt about her.

But Sana disappeared around the corner, and Calum dropped his stub of a cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his boot, retreating to the bar where all he wanted to do was drink his shelves dry rather than serve them.

Collision (Lucky Shot & Paradise)

He’d been cleaning the peanut shells off a table by the window, all of the blinds drawn, after hours when he looked up, catching sight of a frazzled Sana through the doors storming her way across the street from Paradise, right through a practical storm that was currently pouring rain, and right to the door of Lucky Shot. Calum dropped the rag on the chair, eyes widening and eyebrows shooting up at the sight of her as he hastily went to the door and unlocked it. He pulled it open, the rain louder as it sprayed against him, thrown into a bewildered silence as a panting Sana walked in calmly, opposite of how she’d been just a second ago.

Calum shut the door and drew the door’s blinds as well, but his eyes were on the girl that was completely soaked, the yellow diner dress sticking to her body and her ponytail wet, tendrils sticking to the side of her face as she breathed heavily. “Sana. . .”

In the silence of the room, he heard her hissing a rant to herself in words he didn’t understand. “Saala! Uska moun tor doun. Kamini ka batcha. Kon samadjtha hai apne-aap ko?”*

Sana was huffing vehemently, her breaths sharp as the scowl took over her pretty features, hands coming up to rub down at her makeup free face to wipe off the water after she tossed her purse on the bar. Calum cautiously approached her, unsure and worried over what’s gotten her so pissed off to the point where she stormed through a downpour and was now ranting to herself fiercely in Urdu.

“Sana,” he began again, his raspy tone cutting through her quick words. “Doll, are you okay? What’s going on?”

She spun around, wet ponytail whipping about as she finally faced Calum. Her expression was one that could only be described as indignant, eyebrows drawn together over wide eyes and lips curled into a sneer. “He broke up with me!” she exclaimed, her first words in English. Calum’s heart stopped. Sana let out a loud scoff, reaching up to roughly pull out the scrunchie in her hair to let the wet strands fall limply around her shoulders. “That asshole broke up with me before I got the chance to do it myself!”

The fire in her brought Calum right back into reality, though he couldn’t help himself as he gaped at the heated girl in front of him. The selfish part of him was found being thrilled at the knowledge of Sana and Mason, who’d been dating for a little over four months, no longer being together. But just as quickly, Calum pushed that part and the bubble of excitement away and focused on Sana, who was standing in the middle of his bar, drenched.

“I—hold on. I think I’ve got some clothes for you to wear,” Calum said, her strawberry scent that still clung to her over the rain wafting through him as he walked past her and towards the back room. The inventory was there, as well as Calum’s bag of extra clothes. He always kept it after a mishap of a patron throwing up on him a while back. Pulling out the black Playboy button down, Calum pursed his lips when he realized his pants wouldn’t fit her.

“It’s okay,” Sana said after he relayed that to her, her demeanor somewhat calmer as she accepted the shirt and offered a smile. “This looks like it could be a dress on me, anyways.”

Calum nodded, scratching the back of his neck as she went to the bathroom, letting out a breath once he heard the door shut. He then walked behind the bar with a shake of his head. He was glad Mason and Sana broke up—was indignated on behalf of Sana—but also beyond puzzled as to why anyone would break up with someone as fucking wonderful as Sana? How could anyone intentionally let go of someone loved discussing the existence of aliens and ghosts and wanted to try every restaurant in town and was able to read three full novels in less than a day? How did that happen?

He’d been so busy trying to work his mind around Mason’s stupidity while pouring drinks for both himself and Sana that Calum hadn’t heard the bathroom door open, nor hear Sana’s footsteps until she appeared in front of him. It wasn’t until he’d finished pouring the whiskey when he glanced up and caught sight of her, the bottle nearly slipping from his grasp and throat drying as he looked at her.

Sana walked over to the bar, wearing nothing but her shoes and the shirt Calum had offered her. The black button down done up, and while the short sleeves tightly hugged his biceps, they were loose and nearly coming down to her elbows. The shirt had every button done, but the size of it had it hanging on Sana’s body and even with the top button done, it hung low and showed off her collarbones. But her legs. . . Man, her legs were in full view, the hem of the shirt barely grazing her mid thigh, shorter than both of them anticipated.

Calum snapped his gaze away, grabbing onto both glasses and hoping he hadn’t just been caught ogling at his friend’s legs as he slid one glass across the counter. “Drink?” He offered a small smile, brown eyes meeting grateful brown. “It’s on the house.”

Her shoulders sank slightly, a breathless smile quirking at her lips as she grabbed the glass. “Ugh, you’re my jaan.” Her smile widened at Calum’s eyebrow rising. “My life,” Sana translated, oblivious to how those two words hitched Calum’s breath in his throat. She picked up the glass. “I adore you. Cheers!”

Sana clinked her glass with Calum’s and took a sip, while he needed a moment to pathetically recover from Sana’s words. She was just being friendly, treating him like she always did, but she never failed to make Calum’s heart stop. Worst part was, she didn’t even realize the effect she had on him.

Quickly taking a sip of the drink, Calum licked his lips as Sana moved her wet hair behind her shoulders. “So, uh, what happened with you and Mason?”

Sana grunted with a roll of her eyes, folding her arms on top of the bar as she looked at Calum. The neon lights in the bar were still on, and the dampness on her skin gave Sana an even more ethereal, glowing effect than usual. Calum felt his knees weaken. “He’s just been acting like a dick lately. Got all possessive and kept texting me about my whereabouts. Kept getting pissed off at the stupidest things. Total red flags.” Sana huffed and pursed her lips. “Can’t believe he ended the relationship before I even could. Saala.”

Calum’s eyebrows drew together in a scowl, lips turning downwards at Sana’s words. She deserved someone better than that, and even if she was annoyed that she didn’t get to be the one to end things, Calum was still glad they were done. Surprising, though, since Mason was getting possessive yet was still the one to end things. “Well,” Calum took a breath, picking up his glass once more. “At least you got out of that kind of relationship.” Then, after a pause, asked, “What’d you say at the end? Was that some curse?”

Sana let out a chuckle. “Yeah. Saala. Means, like, bastard.”

Calum snickered, raising his glass. “Here’s to breaking up with a saala.”

Her grin widened, showing off her love of Calum saying terms in her language as he took a sip, eyes on the rings decorating his fingers. As he took a sip, Sana hummed, “He really was a bastard. Should’ve known, since my parents weren’t too fond of him. Though, I think that has more to do with the fact that he was white. Reminded them of Wonder Bread.”

At that, Calum found himself snorting into his glass, coughing as he unexpectedly choked on the drink. He closed his eyes, coughing into his elbow as he tried to catch his breath, missing the way Sana shot up and leaned across the counter, rubbing his back. “Holy shit,” Calum coughed out, his body relaxing as an amused grin took over his face. He turned back to look at Sana, who was staring at him with wide eyes and tensed shoulders, alarmed from his sudden coughing attack. “Wonder Bread?”

“Y-Yeah,” Sana stammered out, still trying to recover from Calum’s cough before her own shoulders relaxed, though she remained standing. “I mean, they’re not racist or prejudiced or anything. My brother-in-law is white,” she reminded Calum with a light laugh. “Mason was just. . . Unnaturally pale.”

Calum shook his head, wiping a hand over his mouth as he smirked amusedly at Sana. “You really know how to pick ‘em, huh?”

“Hey, hey,” Sana protested with a pout, the action instantly drawing Calum’s gaze to her lips. Were they as soft as they looked? “I can’t help but make stupid decisions about one situation when another situation makes me feel like a pitiful coward.”

Calum took a sip of his drink, drawn together eyebrows raising as he peered at her over the rim of the glass. “What’re you on about?” he asked with a confused chuckle. “Why’re you a coward?”

Sana was silent. The rain kept pouring outside, could be heard pelting against the windows relentlessly. Calum’s gaze were fixed on her, how the protesting pout transformed into a stubborn one as she looked away from him, arms crossed over her chest, and Calum was left wondering what was going on in that pretty head of hers. “I’m a coward,” she began after taking in a deep breath, gaze still averted, “because I gave my time to the first guy who showed an interest in me instead of asking out the one guy who I couldn’t keep off my mind.” Her dark eyes suddenly clashed with Calum’s, and the smirk was wiped off his face at the sight of her knowing look, at the fire in her eyes.

An exasperated huff escaped Sana as she pushed away from the bar, meandering over to where the pool tables were. She didn’t bother to look back at Calum, instead kept walking, as he heard her say, “I figured you gave free drinks to all of your friends every now and then, but honestly, Calum—” Sana paused, bringing herself to sit on the edge of one of the tables, her legs on display and a wistful smile on her face as she looked at where he stood frozen behind the bar. “—I just felt like I was getting mixed signals. Was I wrong to assume you liked me?”

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. How the hell did she do that? What the fuck was going on? She knew. She was completely aware of his feelings for her, and Calum had no idea how to react. Even more so at the knowledge that she felt the same way. Fucking hell.

Calum’s heart was pounding, but he was going to try his damndest not to let it show. Especially with Sana sitting there, legs on display and wearing nothing but his shirt and whatever she’s got on underneath, looking completely at ease. “Like,” he found himself smoothly correcting, his steady voice a contradiction to how he felt, as he walked from around the bar and made his way over to her. “There’s no past tense in this situation, sweetheart.”

He was in front of her now, effortlessly nudging his way between her parted legs, her—his—shirt bunching at her hips and exposing more of her inviting legs. And while Calum was trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was happening, that he could feel the warmth of her skin and smell her fruity scent and was so close, Sana was peering up at him with a curious, analyzing look on her face. Like she was trying to figure out if they were on the same page—like she was confirming that they, in fact, were. Calum couldn’t seem to look away from her dark eyes, glittering with the neon colors.

And then, apparently finding what she’d been looking for, Calum watched as Sana’s shoulders sank in relief and a smile spread across her lips. The only warning she gave him with a breathy, “Thank God,” before her hands were on the back of his neck and she was pulling him in for a kiss.

Their eyes shut at the touch of lips, missing the flash of lightning that went off out in the world they’d abandoned, wanting to do nothing but get lose in each other as their lips moved heatedly. Calum’s hands were on her thighs, rings cold against her smooth skin as he pulled her close and felt her fingers thread through his curls. His heart had never beat so fast, feeling it thudding against his chest as his tongue trailed the seam of Sana’s lips, which parted instantly to let his tongue meet hers eagerly.

Fuck, it felt better than Calum could’ve ever imagined. Her lips were soft and she tasted like the whiskey they’d both drank, a soft groan sounding at the back of Calum’s throat when he felt Sana tug pleasurably at his hair. He was in heaven, Calum was sure of it. Nothing had ever felt as good as Sana’s lips against his, sucking and biting and doing all the right things. His hands were squeezing her thighs, rings digging gloriously into her skin, and Calum caught Sana’s lower lip between his teeth as she let out a soft moan that was music to his fucking ears.

He kissed her again, unable to get enough of her lips, over the moon that he was finally able to do this and blissed that it was better than he could’ve ever imagined. Meanwhile, Sana’s hands had traveled down and fingers gripped the hem of his Sensation T-shirt, pulling it all the way up until they had to momentarily break their kiss for Calum to pull it over his head. As soon as it was gone, Sana’s lips were working their way down his jaw and to his neck, sucking, licking, and biting the warm skin.

Her right hand slid up his arm and to the back of his neck, tangling her finger in his hair as she expertly left a mark, and Calum’s eyes shut at the feel of her sinful mouth on his skin. Fuck, she was already driving him crazy.

While she did that, Calum’s hands began undoing the buttons on the shirt she wore, not even having to look as he did so until the shirt fell open and Calum was pushing it off Sana’s shoulders. She was still happily leaving her marks on him, though dropped her arm so Calum could completely take off the shirt and toss it somewhere on the floor, his own heart dropping when his hands brushed the underside of her bare breasts.

Sana smirked despite the chill she felt when her damp hair stuck to her back, especially when he groaned, hands sliding up to completely cup her flesh as she nipped at his ear. “Oops. Don’t like wearing a soaked bra.”

Calum chuckled breathlessly, the sound deep and raspy in the quiet of the bar, smirking as well when his forefinger and thumb teased her nipple and Sana gasped slightly against his skin. “Still got your underwear on, though,” he pointed out in amusement.

She pulled back, satisfied with the few marks she left on his pretty skin, admiring his own bare chest and tattoos on full display with hooded eyes. Sana pulled her lower lip into her mouth after licking it, inhaling sharply as Calum’s one hand had its way with her breast and the other teased the strap of her underwear, her own hands traveling down to begin working at his pants. “Can’t make it too easy for you, can I?”

Her eyes went to Calum’s lips, pinker and fuller from kissing her, fueling her desire to kiss him again, as Calum huffed lightly when she undid his belt and got rid of it, undoing the buttons and zip of his pants before sliding them down after he pulled out a little packet from a pocket. “Nothin’ ’bout this has been easy, jaani,” Calum rasped, his voice and use of the term of endearment making Sana’s heart skip a beat. She’d taught him how to say love as a pet name a while back, and he often called her that. It always made her heart swell. He was naked now, completely bare and all for her, and Sana felt her throat tighten wonderfully at the sight of him. Utterly beautiful, just like she imagined, just like she knew. It wasn’t surprising how gorgeous he was in every single aspect. Then Calum stepped closer to her, his fingers hooking into her underwear as he dropped his forehead to rest against hers, hoarsely confessing, “You’ve no idea how painful it was to watch you want someone else.”

His piney, familiar scent clung to him and enveloped Sana, tilting her head into him more, breathing heavy as Calum’s eyes closed and his fingers pulled her underwear off before stepping back between her legs. But Sana felt a tug at her heart at his words, hands cupping his cheeks and feeling the slight stubble tickle her palms as she murmured, “Don’t want anyone else. Want you. Please.”

The amount of nights Calum yearned for Sana to say that, dreamt of it, could never live up to the moment those words actually fell from her kissed lips.

They had waited too long, wasted too many months being cowardly and dumb and holding themselves back to drag this out too much. There would be time for that later, they knew. For now, their hearts were soaring and breaths were heavy as Calum slid on the condom before his lips met Sana’s once more, swallowing each other’s blissed moans when he buried himself inside her.

He gave her a moment to adjust, despite the animalistic desire of moving, but Sana was quick to nod her approval, and Calum didn’t waste a second in pulling out before thrusting, picking up a steady rhythm as his lips captured Sana’s once more. His hands were on her hips, fingers digging into her skin as Sana’s hands gripped his biceps and Calum reveled in her nails leaving crescent shapes. The sound of the rain was drowned out by Sana’s encouraging moans, his name soft gasps against his lips and Calum fucking loved this. He loved this closeness, this intimacy, and he loved it with Sana. His skin felt like it was on fire, his mind hazy with lust and desire and yearning for only her, finally living out what he’d been wanting to do with her for so long. He couldn’t wait to do so much more.

“Oh, my—fuck, Calum,” Sana whimpered, her lower lip grazing his upper one as they clung to each other. Her eyes screwed shut, feeling the familiar knot form and head beginning to dizzy with the impending wave of pleasure about to hit her. “Cal, I’m gonna—”

“Me too, doll,” Calum grunted, feeling his own release build up with every stroke of his cock within her walls, snug and wonderful and hugging him just right. He pressed his forehead against hers, his breath heavy and eyes meeting her pretty brown ones. “Let go for me, yeah? Cum for me, baby.”

She saw stars as her orgasm washed over her with a moan that had Calum following her lead right away, his forehead dropping to the crook of her neck as his thrusts grew sloppy and he let go as well. They rode out their highs, Sana’s head tilting back and Calum’s arms wrapping around her waist to keep her close and upright. Their bodies were fired up, the sounds of their breaths echoing in the room over the rain, and Sana’s hands left Calum’s biceps so her arms could loosely hang around his neck.

They both needed a moment after he pulled out; both needed to recover from the crashing waves of oragasm and settle their spinning mind and catch their breaths. But they were still so full of each other, wanted to hold on to the other for as long as they could, wanted the other’s scent to cling to them like a second skin. Months of feelings of heavy adoration—maybe something more?— thought to be unrequited finally bubbling to the surface with wonderful results, enough to bring lazy, post-sex grins on their faces. Sana could feel Calum’s against her hot skin.

“Glad I could properly christen this pool table with you,” Calum murmured against her, letting out a laugh when Sana lightly slapped his shoulder. He kissed the spot on her skin where his lips were before pulling back, peering down at her with glimmering eyes and messy curls and kiss swollen lips. Calum kissed the tip of her nose. “Wouldn’t dream of doin’ it with anyone else.”

Sana rolled her dark eyes, but the smile on her face she couldn’t seem to keep off was everything. Calum gazed at her, took in the way the colors of the light splashed against her skin, how her lips looked just as kissed as he knew his probably did. He smiled, soft and fond, as their arms dropped from around each other and he bent down and offered her the shirt she’d been wearing. She returned the smile as she pulled it on and Calum got rid of the condom, pulling on his boxers and shirt.

Noticing that she was still sitting on the pool table, buttoning up the shirt, Calum swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat out of nowhere, stepping in front of her again. Sana looked up at him as his towering height took her over, letting her hands grip the edges of the pool table once she was done with the buttons as she smiled at the sight of the bartender. But then she saw the hesitant look on his face, the ghost of a nervous smile tilting at his lips as his hand came up to push back a damp lock of her hair behind her ear.

He was thinking about something, Sana could tell, getting lost in his thoughts and the repercussions for saying whatever it is he was obviously yearning to say. “What, Cal?” her soft voice asked, her hands gripping his sides through the material of his shirt. “Say whatever’s on your mind.”

Calum’s eyes, brown and wonderful and Sana’s favorite, were on her face as his knuckles lightly grazed her cheek. “Kind of afraid ’m gonna scare you off if I do.”

She gave him a squeeze. “Not happening,” she assured confidently because, honestly, nothing he could say would send her running. Not after finally finding out he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. For months. “Tell me.”

Silence, save for a small crack of thunder, but Calum’s heart was pounding in his ears. Could he say it? Was it appropriate? Fuck—he knew he felt this way for a while, knew these feelings weren’t going away any time soon because every time he had caught sight of Sana, Calum felt everything within him soaring before free falling. Everything about her was gorgeous, perfect, wonderful. How could he not fall for her as quickly, wildly, fiercely as he did?

He looked into her eyes, brown meeting brown, and the words slipped out. “I love you.” Those same pretty eyes widened, and suddenly Calum was ranting. “And I don’t—this isn’t just me saying it because we just slept together. I’ve been feelin’ like this for a while and I wanted to say it for so long but it just—you were in a relationship and I wasn’t goin’ to ruin that and I was bein’ a coward so—”

Her lips cut him off, and Calum was instantly melting into her touch as he kissed her back, soothed in her thumbs softly rubbing at his cheeks as they kissed. His frantic mind settled for a moment, letting Sana calm him down after making a confession he hadn’t expected to make tonight, slowing down his rapidly beating heart. Calum was sure it would jump out of his chest. He can’t believe he did that. He can’t believe he just told Sana he loves her. It was out there now, out in the open and for her to accept or reject it as she pleased. And when they pulled away, his anxieties were working hard to creep back in, until he saw the smile on Sana’s face and the way her eyes appeared glassy.

“Been waiting months for you to say that,” Sana finally spoke, her voice a shaky whisper as she blinked back the tears and smiled up at him. Oh, God, Calum’s knees were going to give out. She let out a giggle, soft and delicate with a shake of her head. “God, I don’t even wanna think about all the time we wasted because—” Her grin widened, using her hands on his face to pull him closer, “—I love you too, jaan.”

The air rushed out of Calum’s lungs, his eyes widening as those five words fell from Sana’s lips and landed right on his heart. An incredulous, elated and breathless smile took over Calum’s face with a quick expel of a breath, widening only when Sana’s smile took over her face and became a personification of the utter happiness lighting her up. It was a beautiful sight. She was a gorgeous view.

He kissed her again, pouring out all of the emotions he’d been holding for the past few months, hoping to convey the love he’s had for her and prepared to show it for however long she’ll allow him to. This kind of paradise. . . It was incomparable.

How lucky was Calum that the shot he finally made was the one that counted?

*Translation of “Saala! Uska moun tor doun. Kamini ka batcha. Kon samadjtha hai apne-aap ko?” -- “Bastard! I should break his face. Son of a bitch. Who does he think he is?”

tags: @irwinkitten @cals-babylons @angelbbycal @calumh-excess @softforcal @plainwhiteluke @astroashtonio @caelumhood @hearts-to-the-sky @ghostofhood @lovelettercalum @checkeredcalum @softboycal @asht0ns-world @gigglyirwin @dancingonanemptywallet @5secondssofssummer @meetashthere @roselukes @captain-what-is-going-on @wrappedaroundcal @kinglycalum @ghostofch @ohhmuke @calumhampton @slimthicccal @hotmessmichael @valentinelrh @dxmncalum @bitchinbabylon @antisocialbandmate @xx-cuddlemecalum-xx @invisiblexcth @mermaid-merrick @cliffordcntrl @inlovehoodx @hemmomfg @theagenderwhocriedwolf @cathartichaoss @fucking5sos @xhaileyreneex @lipstickstainfading @cosmixcalum @clum-thomas @poppedpins @romanticalumhood @egyptiangoldhood @cal-pal-cuddles @mysteriouslycali @biggestslutforcalum @soulmatecashton @calistheloml @calumamongmen @babygirlcashton

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strongbeautifulfulloflight · 6 years

Text

Happy Valentine’s Day, Klaroline Fandom!

In honor of the day of love, I wrote a little something to tug at your heartstrings and cheer you right back up with cotton candy sweetness. You can all thank @austennerdita2533, to whom I dedicate this drabble, for inspiring me to write this. Enjoy! <3

A Little Prince

“Be sure to put your cards in the correct classmates' mailboxes, everyone. Don't push! Wait your turn. Everyone will get to distribute their valentines.” No morning in first grade had ever been as disheveled as the morning of Valentine's Day. The second the teacher gave the go ahead it was a race to the back of the room where each student's personally designed mailbox sat waiting to be filled. Klaus took his time and let everyone go past. He stood at the back of the line, quietly observing like always. Everyone had such cool valentines, he couldn’t wait to see if he’d gotten a Ninja Turtle – Michelangelo was his favorite – or a heart shaped lollipop, or a little red shovel that said ‘I really dig you.' That one was especially clever. He looked down at his own cards, the plain white envelopes making him frown. His mother wasn’t a big believer in the “Hallmark holiday” so he’d had to convince his brothers to help him buy his own valentines. With the little bit allowance they were able to scrape together, they managed to afford a box of generic cards with printed hearts on them – they were unoriginal, unexciting, but they were valentines. Only one stood out among the labeled envelopes. On the outside it stood in unison with its white paper brethren. Inside, he’d taken two hours to adorn the card with an intricate little drawing of a stallion on the back. It wasn’t as flawless as he would have liked, the remnants of erased mishaps still visible around it. Manes were hard, he came to learn, and the tail had to be just right. Still, he was proud of his little gift to the girl he’d been enamored by since the moment he saw her smile. It was his first day at this new school. His family moved a lot and somehow he’d always managed to be enrolled in school at the most inopportune times. Like the day of the Christmas concert that everyone had practiced for, and everyone was in. Or right before a class trip that he didn't have a permission slip for. Or two weeks before Valentine’s Day. That first day at Mystic Falls Elementary was the least of his terrible first days. It went the way they always did. An awkward introduction, disorientation during lessons that he hadn't been there for all year but couldn't care less about, and a complete lack of belonging when it came time for group activities. The only time he felt at ease was during arts and crafts where he immersed himself in painting. He'd taken to art quickly and found he liked to defy conceptual ideas. And so he'd painted a black sailboat bobbing along orange water that looked like flames, with a green sky and a white sun. He added purple and black to give it some depth, remembering what he'd learned of sunsets and reflection in his previous school. Back when his parents were still together. Back when they'd all worn uniforms and took a bus, and didn't have to walk six blocks together then part ways to go to separate buildings. The public school system felt patronizing, teaching him things he'd advanced past months ago, coddling him with encouragement and smiles when he'd been so used to slapped wrists and scowls. He felt isolated, like a sore thumb sticking out and while he knew it would pass, it didn’t stop him from ducking his head to his desk for the remainder of the lesson. When it came time for snacks, he did what he usually did, kept to himself and made up scenarios for his Goldfish crackers before chomping their heads off and damning them to the deep, dark watery depths of his stomach. He hadn’t noticed anyone watching him until he heard a giggle. He looked up and saw her immediately. She was turned halfway around in her seat facing him, blonde pigtails in perfectly mussed ringlets and big blue eyes shining with laughter. His stomach started doing somersaults and his face felt suddenly hot but he smiled back anyway, and through his embarrassment of being caught, he picked up another cheese-flavored fish and held its head delicately between his tiny thumb and index finger, offering it up to the giggling onlooker at the desk diagonally in front of him. Like a miracle, her hand reached out from the parted heavens and seized his fingers, and for the brief shining moment he felt comforted. “Thanks!” She let go and the fish was hers, swimming along the air in rippling motions as she coaxed it towards her mouth and teased its certain death. He watched her, frozen with his arm still out, taking the fish on a journey through the air and down towards her desk to join the gummy princesses sprawled out on top of the Disney packaging. “You can’t stay here fishy,” she told it. “You need water. It’s in my tummy. But I’m scared of the dark,” the fish pleaded with her, in a stunningly similar voice to her own. She held the fish in front of her with a determined frown. “If you don’t, you’ll die of thirst.” Klaus laughed, unable to help himself, quickly pulling his hand back to cover his mouth for fear of interrupting her. And whether she'd heard it or not, he'd never know because she continued to argue with the cracker who begged to stay with Rapunzel and Belle. “A princess castle is no place for a fishy. But what about Ariel?” The little girl huffed. “Ariel's a mermaid, and she has legs.” “How can a mermaid have legs?” he wondered aloud, surprised to hear himself speak. His eyes widened and he swallowed hard when she turned back toward him. “Her daddy gave them to her so she could be with Prince Eric.” She frowned. “Didn't you ever see The Little Mermaid?” He shook his head, unsure if he should be feeling as ashamed as he was for the lack of what seemed like common knowledge. As she began to unravel the tale, he forgot his shame and focused on the details in the background. Her snack of choice were fruit flavored Disney princesses. Her lunchbox was pink and green with flowers and a brown horse on its hind legs, smiling. It matched the backpack that hung on the back of her chair. He'd ridden horses before, his family even owned one at the stables for a short time. A loud whooshing sound caught his attention and he realized he wasn't listening. He tuned back in in time to hear of Ursula's defeat and the happily ever after that awaited Ariel and Prince Eric. He nodded in understanding when she finished. “Here,” she said, picking up the green princess and showing him. “This is Ariel.” His head tilted as he inspected it from afar until she grabbed his hand and put the gummy snack in his palm. “Today, you're the prince.” The thought still jarred him. He'd never once considered himself royalty, even when he played pretend. He was always the valiant knight, or the dastardly warrior, the evil villain that plotted a siege against the castle's defenses. But never a prince. Perhaps, today, after seeing his card, he could become her prince.

By the end of the day, Klaus was wild with anticipation, as was the rest of the class. Everyone wanted to see what goodies they were getting. Klaus just wanted to see her smile. When the teacher finally relented, the class amassed in a frenzy around the bookshelves, pushing and shoving each other to get to the little boxes they’d designed the week before. He collected the paint splattered box of his own making and carried it back to the desk, his excitement unbearable. He looked back, waiting for her to get hers so he could watch her open his card up. She went through them delicately, reading each one thoughtfully, genuinely enthused by the messages, the pictures of kittens with heart shaped eyes, the candies and the little plastic toys attached to the cards. He waited, his arms wrapped around his own box, his head ducked to rest his chin on top of it while he watched as subtly as a seven-year-old possibly could muster. The pile was growing so his had to come soon. And, finally, there it was. A tiny white envelope with nothing but her name on it. His heart began to hammer against his chest thunderously, the thumps pounding in his ears. His fingers dug into the cardboard under him as he watched her pull the card out of the envelope. She smiled at the generic red and pink hearts scattered all over it, and then, just before she could turn it over, a tiny brown-haired monster dashed over and squealed in excitement. He lifted his head, trying to see past this newfound nemesis of his, but all he could make out was his card. Sitting on her desk. Facedown. She hadn’t seen it. He kept watch a little longer until another one ran to join them and the villainous army of little girls grew. He huffed with impatience and decided to open his own valentines to distract himself. He tore at the scotch tape barrier that sealed his fate and tugged the flap from the top. He leaned forward to look down at his stock pile…but there wasn’t one. He frowned and lifted the box up to the light, nearly sticking his head inside, but the result was the same. His box was empty. He had gotten no valentines. He looked up and the sounds in the classroom seemed like distant background noise, muffled by a dull ringing that he couldn't escape. Everyone was gathered in groups of friends showing off their cards and tearing open candies and relishing those last fifteen minutes of joy before the school day ended. His chest felt tight and his stomach began to hurt but he wouldn't give in. If he'd learned anything before his father had left them, it was that Mikaelsons didn't cry. He hardened his frown and instead began to tear down the box he'd made, letting his rage flourish. Each rip was more satisfying than the next and by the end only the shredded remains of his mailbox sat on his desk. His fists stayed curled against the edges as he breathed fast and hard through his nose. The bell rang and the crowds dispersed, gathering their things while their teacher waited by the door to walk them out. No one had even noticed. He stood and gripped his backpack and trudged forth, leaving the mess on his desk behind. The school playground was filled with screams of joy and stomping feet, while parents nearby watched and waited their children out as they ran off their sugar highs. Klaus sat on the wood border kicking at the small pieces of wood and dirt and trying to ignore all the kids playing and enjoying the sweet Valentine’s treats they’d gotten. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t his fault he was new and didn’t make friends easily. He never asked to move here, anyway. But to be singled out like that, to not get even one measly valentine after he had made sure he counted and recounted the number of students in his class so he wouldn't miss anyone. He wished he could disappear, sink into the wood chips and into the Earth, down into a muddy cave where no one could find him or forget to give him valentines.

“Hi.”

He opened his eyes and saw pink Converse sneakers standing opposite of his. He lifted his head slowly and followed the flowery dress up to the wearer and found her waiting in front of him. Her eyes looked worried, not their usual bright happy blue. Her hands were behind her back and he wondered why she would be standing here in front of him instead of playing with her many friends. Because everybody liked her. Everybody gave her valentines.

“I liked the horsey you drew on my card,” she finally said. Her cheeks were as pink as her shoes. He blinked, too many times he’d later tell himself, and he could feel his own face starting to get the hot tinglies. “I’m not a very good drawer.”

He wanted to object, to tell her she was a very good everything, but suddenly a little purple envelope was thrust in his face.

“I made this one for you.”

He took the card gingerly, amazed it even existed. He stared down at it with a tiny frown, his heart pounding. She had written his name and wrapped a lopsided heart around it in marker.

“Aren’t you gonna open it?”

He looked up, startled by her voice and the demand within it. He almost forgot she was still there. Bracing himself for his fate, he turned it over and peeled at the sealed triangle, nearly tearing it in half. He almost dropped the card altogether when she moved to sit beside him. Carefully he managed to slide the card out and almost instantly saw pink and purple swirls and flowers. They bordered the center image which was the Disney Princess Rapunzel, adorned by strings of lights, and in swooping yellow letters it read, “Valentine, you light up my life.” He smiled, the image making him think of the blonde princess beside him. He turned the card over, expecting to just see their handwritten names but there was also a message on it:

To: Nik From: Caroline ♥ Will you be my special valentine? ♥

He didn’t really know what being a valentine entailed, but he guessed it was like being a prince. And he was okay with that. But just to clarify…

“Special valentine?”

“It means like you like me and I like you.”

He looked down at the card with wide eyes, swallowing a gulp of air. He glanced at her timidly, almost unable to get the words out.

“I’ll be yours if you be mine.”

She smiled huge and it was easily his most favorite smile of hers. And it was all for him. In that moment, he felt like he could soar into the sky.

“Caroline!” one of the minions called from the monkey bars. “Come on!”

She quickly pecked his cheek and sprang to her feet before he could react. She started to run in the direction of the monkey bars but looked back and waved at him with that same big smile. He smiled back, just as big, his hand cupping the cheek that she had kissed. Surely villains didn't get valentines. But princes – princes got happily ever afters. And his was.

#klaroline #klaroline valentine's #klaus mikaelson #caroline forbes #kids au #klaroline drabble #klaroline drabbles #my klaroline drabble #my klaroline drabbles #klaus x caroline

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salrai · 7 years

Text

Through Glass (WIP)

Haven’t posted any creative pieces here in awhile. I know it’s a WIP, but it’s original fiction that I actually feel a bit proud of. Feedback is appreciated, as always.

Word Count: 3,536

The music was muzzled by the sound of the car’s fan trying desperately to cool the interior. Much like the fan itself, the sound of Rise Against could not even pierce the stagnant, heavy air that had taken over these late summer months. My old hand-me-down Civic was a trusted friend, but an old friend in car years. Her air conditioner had bitten the dust a couple years ago, but it’s not exactly like I had the money to fix it. I had named her Sangria—despite my relative unfamiliarity with the drink itself. I just liked the way it rolled off of the tongue—the long “a” sound into a “gree” finished off with the innate beauty that words that end with “a” tend to have. Strawberries and wine painted an image of romance in my mind, and a sense of intimacy that I could only wish to have. It wasn’t like Sangria hadn’t seen some risqué nighttime outings in empty Wal-Mart parking lots and the gravel lots of nature preserves, but they were all with boys.

Boys don’t have the same internalized heart full of love that women do, they lack the empathy and deepness. Wouldn’t know how “men” are, and I don’t care to find out. Every relationship I’ve had with a boy I only considered to be a fling. Sure, I have a lot of guy friends, but none of them which I would ever consider dating. I considered them to be close but I never hung out with them in person, only in the environment of group chats over the internet or together at school and school events. Sometimes we all got dinner. The thought of being anything other than straight had never crossed my mind until just last year. After a fourth shallow encounter with a boy in that last year of high school, I almost felt like I wasn’t intimate at all—almost like I didn’t even have a personality. I hold my head up high, but that’s only because a floor of clouds blocks my vision of anything inside of myself. I’ve learned to never consider my feelings or even what I wanted. My emotional state can be summarized into one image—the image of a woman lying flat on her back while a man fucks her in missionary position for the twentieth goddamn time, her eyes half-closed, glazed over, and fixed on a digital clock on a dresser to the side while waiting impatiently for him to finish.

My sweating palms gripped the hard, plastic steering wheel while my heart pounded in my throat. Callie held her hand against her black eye as she stared out the window, her mascara leaving black streaks down her flushed cheeks and marks on her frail fingers that were against her eyelashes. I didn’t know where I was driving. We were about half-an-hour down the interstate by now, and the street lights that line the highway in popular suburban cities had disappeared behind us. If Chicago was the concrete jungle, I guess that the suburbs would be a wild forest. You can drive 50 miles in any direction, besides due east, and still be in “Chicago” according to the residents. I lived in San Antonio for ten years of my life before moving to the doughnut of Chicago. We had suburbs, but our suburbia was far smaller and tucked in between our own Six Flags and SeaWorld.

I was grateful now, in this political climate, for the move, but when I was younger I couldn’t help but hold it against my parents. Making friends was as challenging as it’s presented in many of those books for teenagers that blend together into one big forgettable plot. Callie was always there. I never talked to her out of what I once thought was intimidation—I figured that she was way too cool for me. I knew her before she changed her name to Calypso, but I never bothered to try to befriend her. She always appeared as if sent by the powers that be to spite me. In each class we had together I was reminded of my failure to so much as make small talk with her or figure out anything about her.

Calypso. Another beautiful word like Sangria. I didn’t know enough about mythology to know who it was, but I did know the name was inspired by someone in one of the stories. One of Homer’s I think? She made me wish that I had paid attention in high school literature classes during our mythology units. Callie dyed her hair silver-gray and kept it in a medium-length bob, usually pinning one side back with a barrette. The barrette itself looked like an antique. It had different shades of blue gems, some of which were long since missing. It looked like it was made out of brass, and swirled backwards in a pattern where each gem fit into each tendril of the barrette. I can’t remember what her natural hair color is, but it never has mattered to me. She was stunningly beautiful, but an outcast. Each time she spoke in class made my heart leap with absolute adoration. The way she spoke was kind of like the way the clouds roll on a drizzling day. Each word melted smoothly like a raindrop falling from a cloud; her voice wisped like light wind—and I was inside a cozy reading nook in a café, watching the rain through a window.

If only the circumstance of our meeting this evening were as pleasant as I had fantasized our first meeting being. I’d left my house to go out on a drive to calm down after a familial disagreement. My parents were unhappy with my choices at college, finding out about my tendency to drink with friends via a Facebook post from one of my friends on my wall. They’d calm down about it in a couple hours—they always do—but the negative environment always pissed me off more than I could handle. My way of dealing with it was to drive to someplace that was open 24 hours, like a McDonalds or Taco Bell drive-thru and to go shopping at Wal-Mart. If I was lucky I’d run into a chatty worker who hated having to be at their job during the graveyard shift. Unfortunately, even though they were often my age, neither fast food nor Wal-Mart workers were exceptionally talkative.

While I sipped on my large Coke in the lingerie section of Wal-Mart, I saw the back of the familiar silver bob of Callie, and she looking at what looked like women’s shirts. I pushed the ridiculously lacy underwear that I picked out of clearance to the back of the shelf I was looking at and walked up to her, startling her at first. She just about jumped out of her skin when she saw me, and her hand immediately shot up to her eye. It was unusual for her to be in such a big hoodie, but I had just assumed that she had perhaps come here in her PJs or something. Of course, then I noticed her smeared make-up and offered to help her out if she needed it. Callie tried to deflect all of the attention, but I wasn’t about to let her go back to whatever she had left from. The desire to leave was clear in her puffy hazel eye. Seeing how resilient I was, she agreed to take a drive with me on the pretense that I bought her something to drink first. I laughed and bought her a Sprite from the cooler at the register. She bought a simple five-dollar shirt by scraping up all of the spare cash and change she could find in the depth of her purse. I lent her a dollar and thirty cents.

After getting on the road, we hadn’t said a word to each other. I only asked if she cared where we went, to which she quietly responded, “anywhere but this fucking town.”

We passed through yet another toll and suddenly we were in the middle of nowhere. The corn was high on each side of the interstate and wind turbines lit the dark background with dimming and brightening red stars. I knew a good place out this way, about ten more minutes out. The radio started to fizzle out, mixing Savior with some talk show. It was close to being the aesthetic of some other Rise Against songs besides this one. Once the station was completely gone, I turned off the radio and turned down the fan since it was only blasting hot air anyway. Peaking a glance at Callie, I saw that she had finally removed her hand from her left eye, instead clutching both of her thighs anxiously. Despite the heat, she kept the hoodie on. Her lips quivered with eagerness to talk, but she seemed petrified out of fear. She probably doesn’t know if she can trust me yet. Hell, she probably doesn’t even remember my name—wasn’t like I stood out in any fashion. Not to mention the fact that high school ended over a year ago. From my peripheral I caught her trying to read me with her one good eye and squinted left eye. I let her. At this point she was something like a scared animal; if I didn’t let her act how she wanted to she would revert back to where we were before.

“Do you have tissues?”

Callie’s voice temporarily gave me a shock, much like when we had been in class together. I felt the car waver as I recovered. I held my hand out and pulled open the dashbox, “Yeah, they’re in here. Use as many as you need to. If you uh… run out of tissues there’s some napkins in the center compartment.”

“Thanks, Naomi.”

I couldn’t help but blush when she said my name. She began to blow her nose and afterwards cleared her throat. It seemed as if she was finally recovering from crying her eyes out. I pulled over to a rest stop entrance and slowed before finally reaching the empty parking lot. Her right eye widened as she realized how long we’ve been driving.

“Wait… how far out are we? How long have we been gone?” she began to hyperventilate, “Oh my God, he’s going to kill me.”

After parking, I unbuckled and put a sturdy hand on her shoulder. I looked into her eyes as I spoke, “Callie, you’re not going back to him. Let’s go wash up your eye, alright? I’ll get us candy bars from the vending machine.” Internally I was shaking with nervousness and rage at whatever boy could have done this to Callie. I also knew the risks that I was taking by keeping her from him. I could get seriously punished for this, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t let Callie deal with this alone.

Callie flinched from my touch. My eyes widened as I realized why she needed a cheap shirt. I immediately removed my hand and turned off the car, opened the door, and walked around to the other side to help her out of it. I held my hand out to her. She sniffled as she clutched my outstretched hand as if I were the first human she had interacted with in years. I helped her to her feet and grabbed a first-aid kit that I kept in my dashbox with the tissues.

“Does your car have a name?” she asked me earnestly with a quick glance at the car while I locked it, seemingly to get a better read on my personality.

I chuckled morosely, trying not to make light of what had just happened, “Yeah. Her name is Sangria.” The headlights flashed twice to indicate it locking.

“Ooh, that is a pretty name,” she looked back at me staring into my eyes as if she were looking into my soul itself. I didn’t mind.

I held the door open for her as she shuffled into the rest area. It was far too bright inside. Vending machines and television screens showing the weather radar greeted us, along with information about Illinois prairies. I sat her down on a bench beneath information on local birds, “You sit here, alright? I’m going to go get a wet paper towel.”

Callie clutched my hand with her bony fingers. Her other hand was clasped onto the cheap maroon shirt. I only just realized how sickly she looked. It was like she hadn’t eaten real food in months. I furrowed my brow since she didn’t let go. Her voice cracked while she spoke, “Actually, I uh… Well I have to clean up my chest and change into this shirt. My last shirt had blood on it. That’s why I went to the store.”

“Alright,” I said, not knowing how else to respond to this kind of thing. I helped her into the women’s restroom and had her sit on one of the sinks, setting the first-aid kit on the sink next to the one she was on.

“Do you want me to only clean up your face, or do you want me to clean up your torso too?”

“I don’t want to even think about it. I trust you enough to clean it up, if you would.”

I cocked an eyebrow, “You just met me.”

Callie gave me that soul-seeking look again, letting out a short laugh, “I feel like I’ve known you longer than that, considering how many times we had classes together and bumped into each other.” This woman was far more confusing than I originally thought. The confusion intrigued me even more. Clearly she had also thought of me the same way during all of those times we saw each other. I really hoped we could become friends after this. Or was I dreaming all of this? Did I smoke before I left? I don’t think I have weed at my parents’ house…

“This is going to sting a bit,” I told her as I tore open a sanitizing alcohol wipe. She squeezed her left eye shut as much as she could while it was swollen. Wherever there was broken skin I gently wiped. She didn’t so much as cringe. After that I wet a paper towel under the faucet with some cold water and applied it to her eye, moving her hand to hold it for awhile. She got the gist.

I was almost terrified of what I would see underneath her hoodie. As I got closer I couldn’t help but catch the stench of tobacco. This was the guy’s hoodie. I started to unzip it, trying to make conversation to distract her from the pain, “So… who is this guy anyway?”

“He’s my boyfriend. I stay at his apartment when my roommates and I don’t get along.”

“If he does this to you, why do you stay with him?” I slid the hoodie down her bare shoulders. Callie wasn’t wearing anything underneath—he must have really fucked her clothes up. Not only was she covered in bruises, but blood was seeping from wounds around her breasts and on her shoulders where he had apparently dug his fingers into, explaining why she recoiled when I touched her shoulder. My pity turned to rage as I took the wipe to each puncture and scratch.

“I deserve all of this.”

Her words stunned me. The cold delivery made it even more authentic—even worse. I froze up for what felt like several minutes. I had no idea what to do in this situation.

I stood up to my full height and embraced her tightly, “What could you possibly mean, Callie? No one like you deserves any of this.”

Scoffing, she used the same words I had earlier, “You just met me.” Clever. I released the hug and applied bandages where I could before putting the new shirt on. I looked at the dripping paper towel and took it from her to throw it out.

“I’m going to buy you an ice pack.”

“I don’t think they sell ice packs at random, middle-of-nowhere rest stops, Naomi.”

I responded only with a chuckle. I shoved the first-aid kit into one of the deep pockets of my jacket and slung the hoodie over my shoulder. Instead of helping her down from the sink, I picked her up bridal style. I had been working out to build up some muscle, but it didn’t require that much effort to pick up the bag of bones that was Callie. A beautiful bag of bones, but a bag of bones nonetheless. She squeaked in fear before relaxing as I put her on the bench outside.

“Why did you do that?” she inquired, astonished.

I shrugged, “Everyone deserves to be carried sometimes.”

“Have you ever been carried?”

God dammit. Callie was way too insightful. I turned my back and went to the vending machine.

She continued, “You seem very concerned with others, but think nothing of yourself. That’s what I’ve observed about you throughout high school, anyway.”

I slid a dollar seventy-five in quarters into the coin slot of the drink machine. A Sprite tumbled down into the compartment and I pushed the door in to grab it. I didn’t look behind me while talking, “Let’s not change the topic from you,” I stated. I wasn’t a fan of talking about myself so I continued to ask her questions, “What did you do that made you think you don’t deserve good company?”

“Well, have you heard of Calypso?”

I turned to face her again and gently tossed her the Sprite. She understood the purpose and put it to her eye. I took a seat next to her before speaking, “No. I knew your name was from mythology, but I didn’t know from what.”

“Calypso was something like a minor goddess who was known for trapping Odysseus on her island for 9 years,” she sighed deeply and looked down before continuing, “I chose the name because I feel I trap people to be in relationships with me—romantic, friends, you name it—and then when they tire of me they leave. It’s not a direct connection, but it’s one that I think is negative and fits my own self-image.”

Suddenly I remembered bits of the unit on the Odyssey, “Yeah but, didn’t she make a statement on the way women were treated?” I squinted, trying desperately to grasp at straws, “The teacher tried to provoke some kind of conversation about it but the class was corpse-like.”

She looked up, thinking that fact over, “You’re right, but… what do you mean?”

“Well, she wasn’t entirely a bad person right? If Homer wrote her that way then, like, maybe she’s meant to be pitied in a way.”

Callie looked right into my eyes again, sort of with a glimmer this time, “Maybe…” her eyes darkened again, “I… really don’t want to go back to him. I’m so tired of being treated this way but my mind tells me I deserve it.”

“Then run away with me,” I said, half-joking. She sat there silently, pondering. That was probably way too weird. Well fuck. I sighed, bought a candy bar and tossed it to her. Then I walked back out into the wall of humidity and heat that was the outside air.

It was about one in the morning now and I still didn’t know where to leave Calypso for the night. There was a small park area that overlooked the wind turbines that we had passed earlier. I caught a whiff of the tobacco again and realized that I still had the hoodie on my shoulder. I became hypnotized by the slowly blinking lights. By the time I snapped out of my daze, Callie was right next to me on the bench. We sat there in silence for a long while.

“Hey Naomi, were you serious about running away together?” she had broken the silence finally after a long while of thinking.

“Huh? Where to?”

Callie looked at me and smiled, “Anywhere you’ll have me.”

“Why me?”

“You sure do ask a lot of questions, huh. I’ve always had a good feeling about you, and after tonight I’m just glad I was right about one thing. Perhaps if I had acted differently as a younger teenager and befriended you, I wouldn’t have ever had to be in this situation that I’m in.”

Calypso gently put her hand on mine. I just kept staring at her—absolutely perplexed. For the first time though, I felt something. I felt the fire of passion in my heart. I felt a desire to protect her no matter what. I felt determination to keep her. I nodded, my throat choked up like it was in the car earlier that night.

We drove together all night. We looked at the stars, we watched the sun rise, we watched the birds fly. We kissed and held each other. We both felt safe. And her ex’s hoodie?

We left it in the trashcan at the rest area, where it would be forgotten with the trash that would be taken out the following day.

#melee writes #wow melee #original fiction #original piece #fiction #work in progress #writing

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