#Calum Hood x OC x Ashton Irwin

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn't know.

calum x fem!oc

ongoing

word count: 140k+

warnings: mentions of cancer, body image, weight loss. (if you’ve read it and have other things i should add here please tell me!)

read on AO3

chapter zero chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four chapter five chapter six chapter seven chapter eight chapter nine chapter ten chapter eleven chapter twelve chapter thirteen chapter fourteen chapter fifteen chapter sixteen chapter seventeen chapter eighteen chapter nineteen chapter twenty chapter twenty one chapter twenty two chapter twenty three chapter twenty four chapter twenty five chapter twenty six chapter twenty seven chapter twenty eight chapter twenty nine chapter thirty chapter thirty one chapter thirty two (new 12/4/23) chapter thirty three (new 12/5/23) chapter thirty four (new 12/7/23) chapter thirty five (new 12/8/23) chapter thirty six (new 12/11/23) chapter thirty seven (new 12/11/23) chapter thirty eight (new 12/11/23) chapter thirty nine (new 12/12/23) chapter forty (new 12/12/23) chapter forty one (new 12/13/23) chapter forty two (new 12/13/23) chapter forty three (new 12/22/23) chapter forty four (new 12/27/23) chapter forty five (new 12/27/23)

chapter forty six (new 4/11/24) chapter forty seven (new 4/16/24) chapter forty eight (new 4/18/24)

[stylesparadise]

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

[malumsmermaid]

I’d Do Anything B.C 10

Hi I’ve been working on this chapter since I adopted Hestia back in like August but work and life and shit has happened. I was going to work on one of my other WIPs but decided to actually finish this one. So...here it is.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: None

Prev.

Calum was spending the afternoon with Michael, having finished up with his work early for once. Before leaving for his friend’s house he had made a good night call to Lily and Ashton, his two partners back in Australia working on a new deal. Calum was supposed to fly out and meet them in a few days-he had just had a few things he needed to wrap up at the office this week before he could join them. He was stressed and worn thin from his projects he’d been working on, as well as the interruptions from their employees-some with reasonable questions and requests-but others just adding to his to-do list. He did his best to push all of that down while he was on the call though, listening to and celebrating their little successes for the day and trying his best to pick out some sort of positive aspect to his day to share. He managed to pick something since they had last called, as well as expanded upon a few of their text conversations over the last couple days. He finally wrapped up their call, ushering his partners off to bed and telling them his plans to meet up with Michael and play a new game.

However, when he got to his friend’s house, it turned out his plan had done a complete 180, from sitting inside on the couch with controllers in hand to walking in the park and talking. Calum ended up doing most of the talking, everything spilling out the second Michael asked about his week. Michael listened intently, his gaze only straying from Calum to check his footing on the path. 

Calum sighed, closing, “And I don’t want to burden Ash and Lil with this when they call. Like, it’s all part of running a company right? Like, especially since they’re having all these little wins and doing some fun stuff out there. Meanwhile I feel like I’m over here taking one step forward and three steps back with all these little side tasks. It’s just easier when they’re here because we can split them up-Lily’s especially good at figuring out where each of us is in our day and which of us, if any of us, is able to carry out that task. And it’s not like I don’t do that, like some of the things I’m like ‘maybe Ashley or Jaime are better people for this particular thing’ and either message them or send that person their way. But at the same time, I don’t want the people who have come to me to feel like I’m dismissing them or pawning the task off to someone else, but like…I’m just one person, y’know?”

Michael nodded, “You know, I’m always here to listen, but Lil and Ash worry about you when they’re away too and can tell when you’re holding stuff like this back.”

Calum hummed, “Yeah, but I don’t want them to feel bad about it or for me or whatever. Like, it’s not their fault that I got this idea for something that, as usual, ended up much larger than I expected and…wait, what made you say that last part?”

“Shit…I uh…fuck…”

“Mikey?”

Michael looked away, scuffing his shoe on the ground, “Lily may have texted me after you guys got off of the phone and mentioned that you seemed off and that she was worried, got the same text from Ashton like two seconds later.”

Michael jumped as Calum let out a laugh. “Can never hide anything from those two, even on the other side of the fucking ocean. To be fair I do feel a lot better now, maybe better than I would’ve just playing that game with you, even if I was really looking forward to it.”

“There’s still plenty of time in the day if we turn back now…” Michael said with a smirk.

Calum nodded, turning around on the path and beginning the trek back to Michael’s car.

As they were walking through the parking lot, a flash of movement between cars caught Calum’s attention. Then it came again, this time rushing across the section of the parking lot they were walking through, from one side to the other. “Kitten,” Calum gasped, just as the animal ran under a car that three people had just gotten into-its engine roaring to life.

Michael gasped too, both men rushing over to the car, trying to get the driver’s attention before they put the car in gear. They must’ve made quite the scene, the woman in the driver’s seat opening her window just a crack to see what the two large men wanted. “A kitten just ran under your car,” Michael explained, trying to catch his breath while Calum ducked under the car’s rear bumper to see where the kitten had gone. It froze and locked eyes with him, in the shadow of one of the front tires.

He started calling to the kitten, tapping at the gravel with his fingers to try and coax it over. Just as he began calling to the little cat, the car’s engine shut off and multiple feet hit the ground around the car. The kitten looked up at the car’s chassis, then around at all the legs surrounding the car before darting towards Calum. He took the kitten in his arms, capturing her and making sure he had a good grip before slowly beginning to wiggle back out from under the car. “Got it,” he grunted as he slowly began to sit up, handing the kitten to Michael so he could get to his feet. All three people from the car began to coo and cheer as they looked at the small animal in Michael’s arms while Calum dusted himself off.

“What now?” Michael questioned, looking at Calum.

“I…I don’t know,” Calum said, watching as the kitten squirmed in Michael’s hold. “I mean, I guess we go to the shelter, make sure she doesn’t belong to anyone?”

“We’re in the middle of a giant park, Cal…” Michael started.

“I know…but I mean, what else? Isn’t that what’s right?”

Michael hummed, conceding, and began to walk towards his car, “There’s one not far from here.”

Calum nodded, following after his friend.

~~~~

“Good afternoon, how can I help you two gentlemen?” Greeted the shelter’s receptionist.

“Yeah, uh, we were just at the park and caught this little kitten in the parking lot as she darted under the vehicle of another visitor who was preparing to leave,” Calum stated as Michael stepped forward, still holding the small cat.

“We just wanted to make sure that she was okay and that there isn’t anyone out there missing her.” Michael explained, holding the cat out for the receptionist to examine.

“Well, it is kitten season,” they replied, smiling as the cat pawed at the air between them, “and this little one looks just old enough to not need mom for food anymore, they probably wandered off on their own and got turned around. But we can definitely put them on stray hold, just in case. Let me just page our cattery attendant to get this little one checked in.”

They grabbed a walkie-talkie from their desk, calling to one of their coworkers elsewhere in the shelter to come up front. Michael and Calum took a seat against the window, Calum reaching over and gently rubbing between the kitten’s ears. The receptionist walked over and handed Calum a clipboard to fill out, a sticker with a series of numbers and letters in the top corner. 

As he finished writing down his information and where they had been when they found the kitten, another person walked through the doorway from the back. She smiled, approaching the two men and greeted them, quietly reaching her hand out to take the kitten from Michael. Michael gave the kitten one last scratch before handing them over to the worker while Calum stood to hand the clipboard back. 

When he turned back he caught sight of Michael staring wistfully through the doorway the kitten had been carried through. He wasn’t the only one to notice either, the receptionist saying, “We’ve had a lot of people bringing kittens in the last few days, you can foster that little one if you’d like.”

Michael immediately brightened, “Can I foster two? So it has a friend?”

Twenty minutes and more paperwork later, they were back in Michael’s car, trunk loaded with kitten food and cat litter, a carrier containing two kittens secure in the backseat. Calum was smiling, listening to the small animals mewling behind him. They were almost back to Michael’s house, when suddenly, next to a strip mall containing a petstore, Michael gasped, “They need toys!” He checked around him before pulling sharply to the right, entering the parking lot.

“I’ll stay in the car with the cats, no going crazy in there, just toys, no furniture unless you’re certain you’re going to keep them.” Calum teased.

Michael parked smiling, “No promises.”

Calum shook his head, watching as his friend hopped out of the car, jogging through the lot.

Not long after Michael had disappeared through the door, Calum felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out, half expecting a text from Michael asking for an opinion, surprised to instead see his girlfriend’s picture on his screen. “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” he asked as he answered, teasing lilt to his voice.

“I can’t,” Lily whispered, snuggled under a blanket on the couch, “Miss you.”

“Just a few more days and I’ll be there,” Calum tried to reassure, but he could feel his own heart aching.

“I hope I’m not interrupting your afternoon with Mikey…” She started, but was distracted by a loud meow behind Calum, “What’s that?”

“Oh, you’re not interrupting, our afternoon was already interrupted. We found one kitten, and now Michael is fostering two.”

Lily sat up, trying to contain a squeal to not wake their sleeping boyfriend in the other room. Calum grinned, launching into the tale as, as he anticipated, a picture text came from Michael in the background of the call.

~~~~~

As promised, a few days later, Calum strolled into the penthouse apartment in Australia. It had been a long day of travel, made even longer by a maintenance delay in Seoul, leaving Calum pacing the terminal as his gate changed four times before they finally were able to board. He had told Ashton and Lily not to wait up for him, his expected arrival time now closer to 3AM than 9PM and was glad to see that they had heeded him for once. He quietly set his backpack on the table, removed his shoes and quietly made his way to the bedroom. He brushed his teeth and washed his face before shedding the clothing he’d been wearing since the previous morning. 

He smiled sleepily as he looked down at the bed, looking at his two partners. They had clearly been cuddling when they first went to bed, but had since separated, plenty of room between them for him to occupy. He carefully climbed over Ashton, who was facing the doorway, Lily facing the windows. He snuggled under the strewn blankets, pulling both of his partners to his chest. Neither woke, but they did both sigh, cuddling to him. Calum felt a smile on his face, kissing them each gently before closing his own eyes and finding sleep for himself, content to be surrounded by their warmth again.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

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.

[wildfl0wer-meg]

Tonight’s About You, Baby Boy - poly!cashton

i made a similar fic to this a while ago called “Secrets” and it’s poly!cake. I also wrote this months ago and it's just sat in my drafts. Anyway....

warnings: oral (male giving/ male receiving, afab receiving), m/m, m/nb. cursing, semi-public sexual situations, unprotected sex in a relationship, light power dynamics, nicotine use, mentions of smoking weed.

Calum Hood x Ashton Irwin x nb!OC

word count: 2.6k

————

Ashton’s eyes flash over to Calum for what seems like the thousandth time. Calum was lying back on the couch, his bass in hand as he lazily attempts to come up with his part for their newest WIP.

Ashton just couldn’t seem to focus on his work today. He wasn’t sure what it was but Calum was stealing all of his attention.

“Cal,” he calls over finally, his boyfriend looks at him questioningly, as does Luke and Michael. Ashton swallows trying to find what to say. “Uh— do you think you could help me with something real quick?” he asks, mouth going dry, and Calum raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk appearing on his lips.

“Sure,” Calum chuckles and sits up. Everyone looks at Ashton questioningly and he’s quick to figure himself out.

“It’s not related to the song, I just need to figure out what I’m doing for Eve for our anniversary coming up…” he says, “I have a couple ideas but can you help me real quick?”

Calum holds back a laugh, Ashton already had figured out what he was doing for his and Eve’s anniversary, him and Calum had stayed up all night a few weeks ago planning a short trip to the mountains, just the three of them, and they’d even went as far as to plan a fake trip for Calum so it wasn’t suspicious to anyone.

“Yeah but let’s not bother them,” Calum says and stands up, stretching his arms over his head and Ashton’s eyes flash to the section of Calum’s stomach and hip that’s revealed when his shirt rises.

Ashton leads the way out of the studio, Luke and Michael both awkwardly laughing in confusion as the two leave, and as soon as their out Calum turns to his boyfriend, eyes crinkling as he smiles.

“You’re so full of shit, you know that?“ he asks and leads them into the family bathroom, locking the door behind them.

“Im sorry but you just look so good today,” Ashton smirks, his hands gluing themselves to Calum’s arms that are exposed by his ripped muscle tee. Calum bites his lip and leans against the sink as Ashton pushes into him and connects their lips.

Their relationship had been official for almost a year. It started as a hookup, Ashton and his partner Eve had invited Calum over to hang out one night, as they did many times. After one too many drinks and some heavy flirting from the couple who (little to Calum’s knowledge) had discussed a threesome with Calum many times, Calum found himself in their bed, making out with both of them.

It took four more hookups for them to decide that they liked each other more than just friends with benefits and so their relationship began.

Calum’s hands sneak under Ashton’s shirt, holding onto his sides as he deepens the kiss and he lightly grinds up against his boyfriend who pulls away and smirks.

“How long do you think we have before they look for us?” Ashton asks, glancing at the closed door and Calum smiles, slowly sinking to his knees in front of him.

“Long enough for me to blow you,” he says, and Ashton lets out a shaky breath and switches their places so he can grip onto the sink for stability as Calum unzips his pants and pulls him out.

Calum quickly gets to work. His mouth wrapping around Ashton as he bobs his head and sucks lightly. He opens his eyes and looks up at the man who groans when he sees him.

Ashton reaches down to softly run his fingers through Calum’s hair, and when the man on his knees relaxes his throat to get Ashton down as far as he can, Ashton’s grip tightens as he lightly pulls and Calum moans, the vibrations rushing up Ashton.

“Cal–“ he moans, “I’m gonna…” He cuts himself off with a soft groan when Calum speeds up, wrapping his hand around the base of his older man’s cock as he focuses on the tip.

Ashton’s grip tightens once again when he releases, Head falling back and a groan leaving his mouth. Calum swallows his load and sits back his legs to catch his breath. Ashton does the same while leaning against the sink and when he finally recovers he reaches down to fix his boyfriend’s hair and help him up.

“You okay?” he asks, while pulling him in for a hug. Calum nods, leaning his head on Ashton’s shoulder for a moment before pulling away.

Ashton looks between them at Calum cock straining against his jeans and chuckles. “Want me to help?” he asks and Calum shakes his head,

“We need to get back in there,” he says, “Maybe you’ll be able to focus on the song now,” his teasing grin makes Ashton roll his eyes.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight, okay?” he cups Calum’s face and Calum smiles and nods, he knows Ashton means it, and he also knows that means Eve will be there as well.

Ashton goes back first. “Calum stopped at the restroom,” he says and sits back down.

“Did you figure out the present?” Luke asks and Ashton nods,

“Yeah, I think i’m taking them on a trip,” Ashton says, “Now i just need to figure out when,”

Calum walks back in, sending Ashton a teasing grin before he sits down,

“Cal said he’s planning on going on a small trip the week of our anniversary so we might go then so that’s only a week we’re not all together,”

Luke and Michael both nod in agreement and the room goes back to silence, the only noise being their instruments and Luke’s occasional hum.

——

Calum walks into the house first. He rubs his face as he enters, a smile filling his face when Duke runs over to him. “hey bubba,” he smiles and falls to his knees to pet his dog.

Eve hears the door open and hurries down the stairs to find their boyfriends. “hey!” they smile and Calum stands up to catch them in a hug.

“You have a long day today?” Eve asks and Calum nods with a small chuckle.

“Ask our boyfriend what we did today,” he says and as if on cue, Ashton walks in. Eve looks at their other boyfriend who raises an eyebrow,

“What?” he asks, eyes flashing to Calum, and Calum smirks.

“What did you guys do today?” Eve asks, completely lost as their boyfriends exchange a look and the tension in the room builds.

“Ash was being horny all day,” Calum chuckles, “made up an excuse for us to leave the studio so i could blow him,”

Eve laughs, looking at Ashton who just smiles at the acquisition and surrenders his hands in the air.

“I mean look at him,” he motions to Calum, “how am i supposed to focus on my work when this fucking god is sitting next to me,”

Calum blushes, and Eve just giggles. “So did you return the favor, Ash?” they ask and Ashton smirks,

“No, i was wanting some help with that,” he walks past his partners and into the kitchen where he gets a cup of water. Caulk steps back to admire Eve.

They were only wearing one of Calum’s oversized shirts, and he would bet on them not wearing shorts under it, they never were. His hand find their waist and they take a breath.

“You’re gonna be good for me?” he asks but it’s more of a command, Eve nods, eyes wide and innocent. Ashton watches them, and finally speaks up when they just stare at each other for a moment too long.

“What do you want, Cal?” he asks from across the room, and the man swallows as he processes the question in his head. His eyes flash to Ashton as he licks his lips.

“I wanna go to our room,” he says and Ashton nods, motioning for him to go, which he does after grabbing Eve’s hand to drag them along.

Ashton’s always in charge, even if he’s not actively taking part in the moment. Calum doesn’t always admit it, matter of fact it’s one of the biggest things him and Ashton tease each other over, but when it comes down to it, Calum needs Ashton to lead him and Ashton is happy to do it.

Ashton follows them upstairs and smiles when he sees Calum with Eve pinned under him. His lips are on their neck and their eyes are closed as Calum leaves a few marks.

Ashton watches them as he sheds his shirt and climbs onto the bed. He sits up on his knees and lets his hand wander under Calum’s shirt. he gently scrapes his nails on the man’s hot skin and Calum slowly sits up, letting Ashton take off his shirt before connecting their lips.

Eve opens their eyes to watch their boyfriends slowly make out. Ashton’s hand goes down Calum’s pants and gropes him, making the younger man moan into his mouth.

“Tonight’s all about you, baby boy,” Ashton says as he pulls away. Calum would normally pretend to hate the pet name, but he doesn’t fight it as he turns back to Eve and tug at their shirt before helping them sit up and take it off.

His eyes fall to look at the skinny silver bars going through their nipples, he bites his lips, that’s one thing he’ll never get tired of seeing.

His hands slowly trail down their body until they reach the band of their panties and he slowly takes them off, sliding them down their legs before getting between them. He smirks up at them after kissing their thighs, lips ghosting over where they need him the most.

Calum’s knows he’s good with his mouth. No matter what he knows that he can never let anyone down with head, and it’s just a bonus that he enjoys it.

Ashton sits back to watch as Calum dives in. Eve’s head rolls back and they moan out, hand shooting to the man’s hair.

After a moment they open their eyes and they make contact with Ashton who palms himself through his pants. “Tell Calum that he’s making you feel good,” Ashton demands, and Calum looks up at Eve as he slows.

“Fuck Cal,” Eve moans, “You feel so good, i’m gonna cum,”

Calum smirks as pulls up for just long enough to mumble, “want you to come on my tongue,” and he goes back in.

It’s not long before they are. They let out a loud moan of Calum’s name as they cum, eyes squeezing shut and toes curling. Calum continues to eat them out, waiting until they’re flinching at his touch before pulling away.

He sits up, out of breath and Ashton connects their lips again. He moans at the taste of Eve in Calum’s lips and reaches down to slowly stroke Calum.

“How do you want to get off?” he asks, and Calum glances at Eve.

“Can you handle me fucking you, baby?” he asks, and Eve nods quickly, eyes desperate.

“Please,” they beg and Calum turns to Ashton.

“Can i help you out?” he asks and Ashton rolls his eyes,

“Stop worrying about me,” he chuckles, “i what to see you cum in them,”

Ashton doesn’t have to ask twice and Calum is stripping off his pants and lining himself up with Eve, slowly pushing in.

Ashton takes off his own pants before stroking himself. He paces himself at Calum’s speed as he watches.

Calum moans when Eve tightens around him as he bottoms out. He leans forward, keeping himself propped up with his hands on either side of his partner. He connects their lips, taking advantage of their moans to explore they’re mouth. He doesn’t take long to feel his climax nearing and he quickens his pace.

“–gonna,” he’s cut off by his own pants and soon his releasing into Eve. He rests his head on their chest as he stills, breaths heavy as he recovers for a moment before pulling out.

Calum falls to the side just in time to watch Ashton cum into his hand and he smiles goofily.

Eve rolls over to cuddle into their boyfriend and Calum happily pulls them into his chest. Ashton goes into the connected bathroom and come back with a couple wash cloths for them to clean up.

“I need a smoke,” Calum mumbles to his partners after he’s cleaned up and puts on a pair of pajama pants,

He reaches into his jeans from earlier to pull out his pack of cigarettes and lighter. Ashton kisses his forehead as he passes by. “I can start on dinner,” he says and Eve lies in bed watching them.

“I’ll find a movie?” they suggest and Calum smirks,

“Pack a blunt for us?” he asks and they happily nod watching as their boyfriends leave the room.

Calum walks outside to the front porch and sits on the steps before lighting the smoke. He breathes in the nicotine and closes his eyes to enjoy the burn in his lungs.

“Calum?” the voice snaps him out of his head and he opens his eyes to see Michael. The blond haired man looks at him confused.

“Why’re you here?” he asks and Calum stutters,

“Uh– I’m just– Um Ash invited me over to go over a few other things,” he curses himself for the poor excuse as he stares at his friend. He takes a moment to look down at himself. His shirtless chest, and baggy pajamas pants, it’s obvious he’s not just hanging out.

Michael just stares at him, “What?” he asks as if he didn’t hear what he said and the front door opens, Ashton walking out looking in the same condition as Calum.

“Babe–“ Ashton starts but he freezes when he sees Michael and his heart drops.

His eyes flash to his boyfriend who looks like he’s about to cry as his cigarette burns out in his hand.

“What is happening?” Michael asks and Ashton sighs, opening the door wider,

“Just come in,” he says, defeated and Calum stands up as well, putting out his cigarette he barely smoke to follow them inside.

Eve is on the couch, a mango zipzag in hand doing as they were told. Their eyes go wide when they see Michael and quickly grabs the blanket on the back on the couch to make sure they’re covered since they’re only wearing Ashton’s shirt he had on earlier.

“You guys are having a smoke session together?” Michael asks confused and Calum bites his lips trying to figure out if they should lie or not as he glances over at Ashton,

“Maybe we should call Luke?” Ashton suggest and Michael nods his head slowly as he tries to connect the dots.

——

“A year!?” Luke shouts and Calum chuckles awkwardly, “You’ve hid this for a year? Did you think we’d be mad?”

“We didn’t want you to think it’d affect the band,” Ashton tries to explain. Michael’s eyes bounce between the three of them before he shakes his head,

“How did you manage to keep it secret?” he asks finally,

“Lots of make out sessions in bathrooms,” Calum says and Ashton elbows him as the younger man laughs.

Michael raises an eyebrow, “So today….” he trails off and Ashton nods,

“Yeah…” he chuckles awkwardly.

“I wish you would of told us!” Luke sighs, “We’ve been teasing Calum for months when he shows up late with new hickies and sex hair, we would’ve made fun of you too if we knew you were part of that,”

Ashton rolls his eyes and glances at his boyfriend. Michael shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m happy for you,” he finally says and Luke nods in agreement.

They share a laugh before silence falls between them so they can take in the information.

“Wait,” Luke says, “Wildflower about this fucker?” he motions to Ashton and Calum’s cheeks turn red as he looks away.

“Oh my god!” Michael yells and they laugh harder as they continue to connect the dots for their relationship and how they’ve hid it for a year.

————

A/N:

hi, i’m back

i’ve fell back into my 5sos phase for the 5835295th time

anyways send me requests and maybe i’ll get around to them sometime :)

[writersdare]

You choose, I write!

I've got an idea for a new story, which will probably become a series, if you like the 1st chapter. However, I'm thinking to write it as 5SOS member x OC, rather than 5SOS member x Reader, as the story can be rather controversial and a little cheeky.

Please, let me know, are you fine with reading 5SOS member x OC? And if so, what 5SOS member should I choose for the series? The poll will be available for a week, once I get the results, I'll ask you something else. It will be a story we'll write together! ♡

– photo is not mine and belongs to the rightful owner –

*CC – Canon Character *OC – Original Character

Masterlist 

[ao3feed-larry]

Something Like Love

by ril3yal3x

Not many Michael x OC fanfics where the OC is male so that is what I'm here to do. Probably going to be more fluffy than smutty. There might be a few heated make out scenes tho. - 3 missed calls at 2 AM, I look at my phone and its HIM. I press the button to call him back. "I forgot to say I love you." he pouted. I chuckled. "I love you too Mikey, goodnight." I replied. "Goodnight" I could hear him say behind a smile.

Sam is Gay. Michael is Bisexual. Ashton is Sam's brother. Ashton is in a band with Michael.

Words: 3854, Chapters: 7/?, Language: English

Fandoms: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M, F/M

Characters: Michael Clifford, Original Male Character(s), Ashton Irwin, Calum Hood, Luke Hemmings, Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne, Zayn Malik, Niall Horan

Relationships: Michael Clifford/Original Male Character(s), Calum Hood/Original Female Character(s), Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Michael Clifford & Harry Styles

Additional Tags: Boyband, Simon Cowell Being An Asshole, Protective Ashton Irwin, Protective Older Brothers

via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/kP4Ouws

[blahehblah]

Six Months Of Waiting

Cashton Smut!!!!!!!

Friday Night 1:30 a.m

It was atypical of Beata’s neighbors to be up this late. The wall of her bedroom was being thudded against, and she could only guess at what her neighbors were up to.

This happened every Friday night. The two men that had lived next to her for the last six months had always brought a lady friend back to the apartment complex around Midnight, and then had fun with her for the next four hours.

It always baffled Beata how the two men next door had lasted so long in bed. None of the men that she had been with hadn’t lasted nearly as long as those two did. It made her a tad bit jealous.

Beata sat up on her bed, having heard enough of the two men’s moans, and the lady friend that they had brought along with them.

None of the guys that she had been with hadn’t been as attractive as the two of them either. The two were built like gods, and Beata was sure that they knew it. Cocky bastards.

‘They’re lucky I don’t have to be into work early on Saturdays.’ Beata thought. She stood up from her bed, and trudged into the living room to sleep on the couch, as she did on most Friday nights.

The living room wasn’t much better for the noise, Beata could still clearly hear the wails of the female that was being tag teamed by her two unreasonably attractive neighbors, but at least she couldn’t hear the banging of the headboard on the wall anymore.

Saturday Morning 6:30 a.m

Beata woke from her slumber to hear her alarm clock going off in her bedroom. She groaned, and fell back onto the pillow that she had dragged with her to the couch. “It’s too early to be awake.” She said to no one in particular.

All she wanted to do was to climb back into her bed, that she left in the middle of the night so that she could maybe get a decent night’s sleep. Knowing fully well that she couldn’t fall onto her bed like she wanted to, Beata got up from the couch.

She walked into her kitchen, and grabbed the cereal from the counter, and the milk from the fridge. Beata opened up the small dishwasher and pulled out a bowl and a spoon.

Having made herself some breakfast, she went back into the living room to open her computer and go through her emails from her professors. This is usually around the time when the wails, and the groans started up again.

Beata sighed as she prepared for another onslaught of her neighbors having one last sexual endeavor with the woman from the night before. Only today, it didn’t come.

Beata didn’t even want to know why.

Saturday Afternoon 12:30 p.m

Work had been slow for Beata. But lunch rush had cleared out around half an hour ago, so she had been expecting it.

“Hey Beata, two guys just walked in,” Her boss Leslie said. “Can you get them for me?”

Beata smiled and nodded. “Yeah,” She turned around and pulled her notepad out from her apron. She walked toward the table that had two familiar heads of hair sitting at it. Beata could feel the irritation spark in her as she recognized the two men. “Hi,” she said as calmly as she could. “My name is Beata, and I’ll be your server today! What can I get for you?”

The one with honey blond curls looked up from his menu, and his hazel eyes widened. “A coffee with pancakes please?” He asked. His voice was deep, but not unpleasantly so.

“Of course,” Beata said in a chipper voice, clearly faking it. “And for you, sir?” She asked the dark haired one.

His head snapped up, and he looked at her with wide eyes. “Same as him.” And he’d slouched back in his seat, as Beata wrote down coffee and pancakes on the notepad. “I know you from somewhere.”

“Maybe you’ve been into Leslie’s before.” Beata hinted. Not wanting the both of them to know that she was their neighbor that had heard every single one of their sexual encounters for the last six months.

The dark one nodded. “Yeah, maybe that’s it.” He said this, but his tone suggested that he didn’t believe it.

Saturday Night 7:00 p.m

As soon as Beata was in her apartment she toed off her shoes, and dropped her bags onto the counter by her front door. She made a beeline to her bedroom, and immediately ran to her closet for more comfortable clothing.

She pulled an old AFI shirt out, and her favorite grey sweatpants from her dresser. She pulled the comfortable clothes on, and not even two minutes after she was dressed a knocking was sounded from her door.

“Ugh, why?” Beata muttered underneath her breath. “I just wanted to eat, and go to bed.” She walked out of her bedroom, stomping slightly, not caring that the people below her might get irritated with it.

She really should’ve checked her peephole before opening her door, because then, she might’ve been more prepared for who was on the other side. ‘IDIOT!’ Her brain screamed at her. There on the other side of the door, was her two neighbors.

‘You fucking idiot.’ She closed her eyes and prayed it was all a dream. Unfortunately, her dreams were never this vivid. She really wanted to bang her head against the wall.

“Cute bra.” She eyes snapped open, and looked to the tall, dark haired one. He was smirking, and not for the first time since the two had moved in, she wanted to wipe it off his face. Beata squinted her eyes, and looked down at her shirt.

Once again, she wanted to bang her head against the wall. Beata had completely forgotten that she was wearing her holey AFI shirt, and underneath it was her baby pink bandeau. She cursed under her breath.

The blond one was leaning against the door, smiling slightly. “Hi,” He said. “In the six months we’ve lived next to each other, I don’t think we’ve ever properly met.” he extended his hand towards her. “I’m Ashton.”

“You already know my name,” Beata said to him, also extending her hand. “But, I’m Beata.” He grasped her hand in his much larger one, and Beata couldn’t help but notice the callouses scratching against her own hand, and the warmth his exuded. She held back a shiver.

Not wanting to get caught up in her thoughts about Ashton’s hand, she turned to the one with the smirk still planted on his face. She reluctantly pulled her hand away from Ashton’s, and held it out towards him.

“And you are?” She prompted. His smirk faltered at her false confidence. But, quickly seeing that she was faking it, the smirk returned only more genuine than the last.

“Calum.” He said. His hand reached out, and took her hand in his. Keeping the smirk on his face, he brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

His mouth was warm, supple, and soft. She wanted it on hers, immediately. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ashton’s adam’s apple bobbing. Once Calum’s lips hand left her hand, she knew exactly what was happening. Calum’s hand dropped hers, and she missed the pressure of his hand in hers.

She cleared her throat. “You guys want to come in?”

“We’d love to,” Calum said before Ashton could say anything about it. Beata saw Ashton glare at him. Calum just smiled back at Ashton, and Beata was having a hard time controlling the smile gracing her face.

Ashton’s own face softened at her smile. “Okay.” he conceded. The two walked into her apartment, and started looking at the miscellaneous pictures on the walls. Some were of her family, some of were of friends.

Beata excused herself from the living room and into the kitchen. As soon as she turned the corner that cut off the kitchen from the living room, she took a deep breath.

She placed her hand on her chest, as if that would calm her racing heart. She scoffed. Of course it wouldn’t. She peaked around the corner, and saw the two men still ogling her pictures.

She smiled. ‘Family men.’ Beata turned back to the kitchen. “Do you guys want anything to eat or drink?” She semi-yelled.

“Beer?” Calum asked. She heard him muttering to Ashton. “Two beers?”

She giggled. “Coming right up,” She opened her fridge and pulled out three Coronas. When Beata went back into the hallway she saw the two men sitting on her couch.

She saw Calum’s gaze drift over to her, and she suddenly wanted to hide her face in her hands. Calum smiled slightly at Beata’s flustered appearance. His eyes trailed down her body, appreciating how the light pink accentuated her skin.

Beata watched as Calum nudged Ashton’s side, and she watched how Ashton turned to face Calum. Calum flicked his eyes over to her, and Ashton’s eyes followed. Beata took a chance and walked in front of the guys’ vision.

She handed Ashton his Corona, and sat on her couch between the two. She turned to Calum to hand him his Corona. Her hand brushed his, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Honey brown eyes darting up to meet her own.

She turned on the TV, “What do you guys want to watch?”

“You,” Ashton said. Beata whipped her head around to see him. His face was so close to hers. Their noses were brushing, and she vaguely felt Calum moving behind her. She felt the warmth radiating from his hands on her waist.

Ashton moved his mouth closer to hers. “Can we kiss you?” He asked.

She didn’t know how she answered, because within the next second his mouth was on hers, and Calum’s was on her neck. Ashton’s hands moved from his lap to her face.

His hands on her face prompted her to move onto his lap. Doing so caused Calum to whine when lips detached from the skin of her neck.

“No fair,” He said. “Her skin is so soft.” Beata was barely paying attention to him. All she could focus on was Ashton’s lips on hers, and his hands traveling up her shirt.

Ashton heard Calum’s whines, and removed his lips from Beata’s. “Come here and kiss her then.” Calum easily obliged.

Calum stood from the couch, and made his way over to Beata, who was still sitting on Ashton’s lap. He stood behind her, and placed his hands on her shoulders. He Calum dragged his hands up from her shoulders to Beata’s neck, where he squeezed lightly. His hands left her neck and Calum grabbed Beata’s jaw and pulled her head back so he could place his lips over hers.

Beata moaned into Calum’s mouth at the feeling of him finally kissing her, and that Ashton’s hands had made their way up to her breasts. They were gripping her so good, and she wanted more.

Calum’s lips trailed from her mouth to her neck, and started sucking, and placing hickey’s wherever he could. “Please,” Beata said breathlessly. “Please, I need you.”

“Which one of us, babe?” Calum cockily said in her ear, before biting her earlobe.

She huffed, fed up with the teasing. Wanting to get back at the both of them for the last six months and for the teasing they were unleashing upon her now, she decided to tease them right back. Her hips grinded down onto Ashton’s hard on, and her hands left his shoulders to grab onto Calum’s hair.

Whispering particularly low she said, “Both of you.” She removed her hands from Calum’s pretty curls and pulled her holey shirt over her head, and tossed it.

Ashton’s hands gripped her breasts harder, as he groaned loudly. “Fuck baby,” he panted. “Gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.”

Calum smirked at his friend. “She’s got you cumming like a virgin.” He laughed slightly.

“I’d like to see you do better,” Ashton said challengingly. He turned to Beata. “Can’t want to feel you around me, bet you feel so good.” His hands traveled down her stomach, and rested on her hips.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom,” Calum said. His hands took place of Ashton’s on her hips, and lifted her off of his lap.

As Calum carried Beata to her room, Ashton not too far behind the two, her hands were wrapped in Calum’s hair and were tugging lightly on his curls. A silent plead for him to hurry up.

He smiled against the skin of her neck. He turned the corner into her bedroom, and threw her onto the bed.

“Hands and knees sweet thing,” Ashton said. Beata hurriedly placed her hands on the bed, and lifted herself onto her knees.

She couldn’t tell whose fingers were digging into the waistline of her sweats, but at this point she didn’t care. Before she could even guess whose hands were on her, her sweats were dragged down her legs, along with her panties.

“God look at that ass Ash,” Calum said quietly. Hands touched her ass gently, and gripped the swell of it. One hand let go, and smacked her left cheek loudly.

Beata whimpered. They both let out breathless laughs at her neediness. “She’s so ready for us.” Ashton said to Calum. “You gonna get over here?”

Beata felt her wetness drip down her thighs. She heard a shuffling behind her, and the hands on her ass were replaced with hands much warmer. Beata felt a warm breath on her pussy, and she let out a gasp.

“God, can’t wait to taste you.” Calum groaned, and placed his mouth on her awaiting pussy.

“Fuck,” Beata moaned. “Feels so good, love your mouth.”

Ashton walked around her bed, and sat in front of Beata’s face. She didn’t even notice Ashton’s movement, he was removing his shirt and his pants, she was focused on Calum’s tongue on her cunt.

Calum was licking Beata’s clit, his nose brushing her opening. His hand that was placed in her ass, moved to her folds and slipped into her opening. His fingers quickly finding a pace that she liked, and were curling into her.

“Jesus fuck,” Beata cried out. “Cal - oh my God - please!” She didn’t know what she was asking for, but she knew she was enjoying his mouth on her cunt.

Ashton laid down in front of Beata’s face and grabbed her jaw, turning her to look at him. “Open your eyes doll.” She opened her eyes, and looked at Ashton, in all is glory. “Gonna suck me off, yeah?”

She nodded. Beata looked down at Ashton’s cock, and she saw it pulsing with his heartbeat. The tip was red and swollen, leaking precum that was trailing down his length. She leaned down, as Calum moaned into her pussy, and placed her lips around the tip.

She made sure to lightly drag her teeth along his tip, and it had him bucking off of the bed and thrusting his cock deeper into her mouth. She gagged lightly, and sucked on him harder. 

“Oh shit,” Ashton said, throwing his head back. His hands were in her hair in an instant. “Cal, her mouth feels so good.”

Calum hummed in response, not wanting his mouth, or fingers to leave her pussy just yet. His fingers had trailed out of her opening and were now teasing her clit with little figure eights. His tongue working its way into her.

He felt her jolt at the muscle that was opening her up. The one hand that was still on her ass smacked it. She groaned around Ashton’s cock, and Calum heard Ashton’s cries for her to get off his cock.

“If you keep sucking on me like that doll,” He had to pause to catch his breath. “It’s gonna make me cum.”

Calum moved away from her aching pussy, and chucked. “Told you,” He said before latching himself back onto her cunt. “She’s got you cumming like a virgin.”

“Oh fuck off,” Ashton replied.

Beata smiled slightly, but it was quickly replaced by a gasp. Calum’s fingers had plunged into her, at a painstakingly slow pace. “Please, Cal, please!” She cried out. Her walls were fluttering around Calum’s fingers, and she was nearing her end. “M’gonna cum.”

“Cum for me baby.” Calum said before placing his mouth on her clit. His tongue was sucking slightly with little licks.

She cried out, and came all over Calum’s face. “Oh god.” Her arms gave out, and she fell against the fabric of her blankets. Her orgasm was working it’s way through her body, and it left her feeling helpless. Calum’s mouth continued working on her until she was feeling needy again. Ashton lifted his head to look at Beata.

She was fucked for them. He smiled at Calum, who lifted his head from her pussy. Calum smiled back, before he removed his shirt.

“Can you take a couple more doll?” Ashton asked her. Beata nodded. “Good.” He kissed her lips softly. “Gonna wreck you.”

Behind her she heard the dropping of Calum’s shirt, and the unzipping of his pants. She shivered. She felt the bed dip down in front of her.

Warm hands gripped her jaw, and lips touched her own. Another pair of hands grabbed at her hips, and she waited as patiently as she could. Calum’s mouth moved fluidly with her own. His lips easily dominating hers.

“Good girl,” Ashton said from behind her. “Bet you’re gonna take me so well.” Ashton leaned down over her back, and kissed her shoulder blade.

Calum separated his lips from hers. Beata offered, “I’m on the pill.”

Both men groaned. “Tryina’ kill us, baby?” Calum asked. “Gonna kill me,” he sighed. “Know you are.”

Beata shook her head. “Jus’ tryin’ to get you both to fuck me.”

“Gonna fuck you so good, ‘kay doll?” Ashton told her. Beata nodded. She was so ready for them.

Ashton grabbed the base of his cock, and lined it up with her. Preparing himself with her wetness, he rubbed his tip against her opening, causing Beata to gasp in anticipation. He smiled slightly, and pushed himself in.

Ashton groaned out, “God, Cal she feels so good, so tight around me.” He had started thrusting into her slowly, wanting to build her up to the fucking she was about to receive. Her pussy was clenching around him every so often, and it would cause him to speed up just a tiny bit. “If you keep squeezing me, I’ll make it really hard for you to walk tomorrow.”

Beata was having a hard time controlling herself. All she wanted Ashton to do was to wreck her, but he was taking his time. She was half tempted to flip the two of them over, and ride him until she saw stars. But Calum had changed her mind pretty quickly.

He had laid down in a similar fashion as Ashton had, and his cock was right in front of her face. His too was pulsing with his heartbeat. Beata’s tongue rolled out of her mouth on it’s own accord, wanting to taste him. Calum had ahold of his base, and slapped it against the slick muscle.

His stomach tensed at the feeling. His eyes were closed when her mouth enveloped him. One hand shooting out to grab at the sheets, and the other moving from his base into her hair. The hand in her hair curled against her scalp, as her tongue swiped across the vein underneath his tip. “Ash, buddy,” Calum cried out, his hips bucking into Beata’s mouth. “Her mouth is so warm, so warm. Feels good, so good.”

Ashton laughed slightly. “Imagine how her pussy feels,” He replied. Ashton thrusted faster into her opening. Hearing her moan slightly around his best friends cock was enough to make him a little crazed. His hands that were previously on her hips moved to her lower back, and pushed her down into the mattress.

His hips were driving into her faster, and harder. “O-oh shit,” his hips stuttering slightly, her walls closing around him tighter and tighter. “Gonna make me cum.”

Beata had to release Calum’s cock from her mouth in order to cry out. She dug her fingers into Calum’s thighs, and he moaned at her fingers digging into his skin.

“God Ash,” She bit her lip. “Feels so good, so full.” Her words came out slurred, and breathless. “Filling me so good.” One of Ashton’s hands lifted from her lower back, and smacked her ass cheek.

She clenched around him at the pleasurable sting. He groaned, “Yeah? Like me filling you?” He leaned over her body. “Like me fucking you this good?” One of the hands on her lower back moved up her back and around to the front of her neck, and grasped it in his calloused hand.

All Beata could do was let out a strangled moan. Her hands needing something to hold one reached out and grabbed the sheet, while the other grabbed at Calum’s cock. Her hand stroking it, as he groaned into his arm.

He had flung it over his face once she had his cock in her hand. He wasn’t expecting it, and that made his muscles tense in his stomach. Her hand was nothing compared to her mouth, but with how worked up he was he was surprised he didn’t cum on the spot.

Ashton was so close to his end, and he could tell that Beata was as well. Her walls were clenching around him so deliciously, and he was having a hard time with holding himself back. He wanted to last long enough to feel her cum around him.

“C’mon doll, show Calum how pretty you look when you cum.” His hips were fucking into her faster now. “You gonna cum around me?” She was clenching around him so tightly that it was almost hard for him to continue fucking her, but it made every stroke of his cock in her walls feel better than the last.

Beata’s toes were curling, she was so close. “So close, Ash.” She moaned out. “Gonna cum, gonna make me cum.” She bowed her head as much as she could, seeing as Ashton’s hand was still on her throat. Her hips started to grind back into Ashton’s thrusts.

His thrusts were starting to stutter, his hands on her neck and hips started to squeeze her tighter. “Fuck, I’m cumming,” Ashton said into her ear.

Beata let out a loud moan at Ashton’s confession, and she came around him. “Oh God!” Her body was spasming, and within a few more thrusts, Ashton was cumming inside her. His hands let go of her body, and she fell forward onto the sheets. Her whimpers at being filled with Ashton’s body.

“Fuuuuuck,” It was long and drawn out. His hips stuttering a few times as his body calmed down from one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had. “Shit,” He laughed as he pulled out. He leaned down and kissed a straight line across her shoulder blades. “You did so good for me doll.”

Beata nodded. She felt Ashton’s cum leaking down her thighs. She heard Ashton leave the room, and walk into the bathroom. He walked back in and cleaned up the mess he made of her cunt.

“Can you take one more?” Calum asked, genuinely concerned. He didn’t want to push her if she couldn’t take it.

Beata nodded again. “Want you too, Cal.”

Her words went straight to Calum’s cock. He was so hard for her. He groaned and fell back against the mattress.

Ashton was kissing her thighs, working her body up for Calum. He smiled against the softness of her skin as she shivered at his touch. When he felt she was worked up enough he kissed the swell of her ass once and stood from the bed.

“Lay on your back for Cal, doll.” Ashton said to her softly. “He’s gonna be gentle with you.”

Beata turned over on the bed, and pushed herself up to the pillows. She sat up from the pillows, and removed her bandeau, revealing her breasts.

Calum moved up to Beata, his hand stroking her leg softly. His mouth kissing her collarbones, and her neck just as gently. Beata’s hands were in his hair, and pulling his mouth to hers. His hand on her leg moved up the length of it fluidly, dragging it to her pussy.

His lips worked hers open, and his tongue was dancing with her own. His hand that was on her cunt was stroking her clit softly, not wanting to overwork her spent body.

The two didn’t even realize Ashton had left the room until he returned from the living room with his beer in hand. He sat in her chair in the corner, and was prepared to watch Calum fuck Beata softly, until she was screaming.

Beata’s body was so responsive to Calum, her hips moving against his hand slightly. Calum’s lips had trailed down her neck, until he found her sweet spot underneath her right collarbone. He was making a hickey there. “Ready for me, baby?”

“Mhm,” She moaned. “Need you Cal, need you so bad.” Her hips moved against his hand again, hoping he would get the idea and hurry up.

He chuckled at her impatience. “Give me a second, baby.” He moved his body so that he was hovering over her frame. He placed her legs at his waist. “Are you sure you’re ready fo’me?”

She nodded. “Please Cal,” Beata lifted her hips just a tiny bit, but enough to grind down on Calum’s leaking cock. “I’m so wet for you.”

“Fuck, alright baby.” One of his hands went down to grip her hip, while the other reached up and gripped the headboard. The hand on her hip moved to his cock, and he stroked it once before lining himself up with her entrance.

He entered her in one motion. They both let out satisfied groans of pleasure. “Jesus, Ash you were right, she feels so good around me.”

“Now who’s gonna cum like a virgin?” Ashton teased, while chuckling.

“Oh shut up.” Calum said, looking down at Beata who was giggling softly. He tested the waters, and thrusted into her slightly. This stopped her giggles, and her hands went straight to his back clawing at the skin.

She mewled against Calum’s neck. Pressing her body closer to his, wanting to be as close as possible.

He sped up his hips just a bit, still not wanting to overwork her. “God, feels so good,” He moaned into Beata’s neck. “Like you were made for me.”

Ashton scoffed in the background. ‘If I remember correctly, she fit around me pretty good.” Neither cared enough to notice is muttering. They were too wrapped up in each other.

“Love your cock,” Beata cried out as Calum’s thrusts picked up in speed and force. “Please, Cal, please, need you so fuck me harder!” She was whining, and did not want to come off as desperate, but at the moment, she didn’t care.

“Yeah?” he said. “Think you’re ready for that?” His teeth nipped at her flesh as his hips rutted into her. “Ready for me to fuck you good?”

“So ready Cal,” She blubbered. “So ready for you.” Her words sparked something primal in him. He lifted her legs onto his shoulders, and put both his hands on the back of her thighs.

Beata didn’t care about the slight burn in her legs, not when she was getting fucked so good. Her hands reached behind her to the headboard, so she wouldn’t hit her head on the lacquered wood.

Her moans were coming out everytime he rammed into her, and Calum ate them all up. The coil in his stomach ready to burst. Her walls were fluttering around him, and it took everything in him to hold back his orgasm.

Beata was the same. Calum’s cock moving inside her so deliciously. One of her hands moved from the headboard to Calum’s curls, her fingers waving themselves into his hair, and tugging lightly at the ends.

He groaned. “Gonna come for me baby?” His hips fucking into her faster. “Fuck, so tight.” He groaned into her neck.

“I’m cumming Cal,” She whispered. “So close, so close.” Beata bit her lip. Her toes curling at the the coil in her abdomen about to burst.

Calum adjusted himself on his knees, her legs still over his shoulders, and he buried himself deeper into Beata. His hands on the top of her thighs, as he pounded into her pussy. Calum hit a particular spot in Beata, that had her crying out with her orgasm. “Calum!” Her hands flew out in front of her, and grabbed Calum’s hair, tugging harder this time around. Beata pulled Calum down to her lips, and kissed him feverishly.

“Oh shit,” Calum groaned after he moved away from her lips. “Feels so good, I’m cumming.”

Calum’s hips stuttered, and his cock twitched as he came inside of Beata. Beata’s hands that were previously tugging at Calum’s curls, were now running through them. The two looked at each other after they calmed down, and laughed.

Beata leaned up, and pressed her lips to Calum’s. Calum moved her legs off his shoulders, and moved closer to kiss her deeper. He pulled out from Beata, using the towel that Ashton had used to clean her up.

Saturday Night 9:56 p.m

“Alright,” Ashton said. “Now that we’ve got that out of our systems, what do we want to watch?” He was dressed in his boxers.

Calum laughed. “Mate, I think it’s best if we just went to bed. I’m sure Beata over here is tired.” He looked down at her, seeing that she was already asleep.

Ashton looked at her too. “That’s alright. You think she’ll mind if we stay the night?”

“Dude, we just fucked her into oblivion. I don’t think she’ll care all too much.” Calum replied, climbing into bed on one side of Beata.

Ashton didn’t want to just climb into bed without permission from Beata, but it’s not like he could wake her up and ask her. She’d probably sleep like the dead. He carefully laid on the other side of Beata.

Calum and Beata were already cuddling, all he did was turn over and wrap his arms around Beata’s other side. “Bro, why are you so warm?” Ashton asked Calum.

“The ladies love my warm hands.” He replied.

“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.”

“Fuck off.”

[nimrats]

STAR OF THE NIGHT ━━ 00. people watching

calum doesn’t know why he’s at a fashion show, of all places.

sometimes, although he’s considered a famous guitarist due to the band, he forgets the first part. famous, i.e. being invited to fancy parties, award shows, places he would never have found himself if it weren’t for his status. yet here he is, glass of fancy champagne in his hand as he stands with ashton who he’s letting do most of the talking to another musician at the after party. calum knows who he is, heard a few of his songs throughout the years, but he’s not focused enough on anything to care about what he’s saying. luckily, ashton is used to him letting him carry the conversation when meeting new people.

his focus is on practically everyone else in the room, mind on autopilot as he people watches. he saw a girl, one of the models from the show not even an hour before, making out with some celebrity he knows he’s seen on a billboard before. another girl is clearly not interested in the conversation she’s having with someone he doesn’t recognise, but the smile on her face stays put until she can eventually break away from the conversation. he doesn’t know what he’s looking for, just letting his eyes flitter around the room as he casually sips at his drink.

then his eyes land on her.

he recognises her immediately, she’s changed out of the last outfit she wore on the runway, most of the models had. but if you had asked him, he wouldn’t be able to recount what exactly she was wearing. for him, the appeal was her alone. her dark hair had been straightened as it fell past her shoulders, white dress swaying against her thighs as she walked impressively well in the high heel stilettos she wore. she smiles at people as she greets them with her red coated lips and incredibly straight teeth, one of the waiters immediately passing her a drink. 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.

to her, the after parties are the worst parts of her job. she can stand on a runway with ease, has learnt to feel comfortable under prying eyes staring at every superficial part of her body. one thing elsie finn had not mastered, was interaction. she knew she had to uphold appearances, pretend to be interested in whatever some fashion designer had to say so that they’d consider her in the future for a job. her livelihood was something she was proudly good at, even though some would say it wasn’t hard to do in the first place. but she would always feel out of place in a conversation with someone that doesn’t really know her, which is why she had gone to find her getaway place she often resorted to.

last thing she expected was to find someone else on the, what she thought, was an undiscovered balcony getaway on the third floor of the mansion they were in. she had found solace leaning against the railing at previous parties she had wanted to get away from, having been there many times before for similar events. but she had never been accompanied by anyone before. and she definitely wouldn’t have expected the stranger on the balcony to become such an important figure in her life as time went on, but life was funny at pairing people together in that way.

◂◂ㅤㅤBACK TO MLIST ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ CHAPTER ONEㅤ ㅤ ▸▸

nimrats © 2022 pls don’t steal thnx

[caramelcal]

5 SECONDS OF SUMMER MASTERLIST

Masterlist created [21.02.2021]

requests are open for 5sos

CALUM HOOD

FOOL FOR YOU [3.15K] - After a drunken mistake lands her in a fake relationship with what has to be the most annoying person that y/n has ever met, Calum Hood, she just wished the tour would end so everything could go back to normal. (ON HOLD)       PART TWO [2.8k] - The one where Calum and y/n go to the club.       PART THREE [2.1k] - The one where Calum and y/n aren’t talking.       PART FOUR [] - The one where it’s from Calum’s PoV.        PART FIVE [] - The one where the fake relationship ends. [SMUT]

CORRUPTED LOVE. [2.7k] - Calum’s girlfriend finds out about gang!cal’s occupation in a not-so-friendly way. 

ROCK ‘N ROSES [2.25K] - aurora is a florist who owns a shop next to calum and ashton’s tattoo parlor. unfortunately, their disruptions are driving away her customers and she needs to put an end to it, even if she doesn’t like confrontation.

ASHTON IRWIN

ROCK ‘N ROSES [2.25K] - aurora is a florist who owns a shop next to calum and ashton’s tattoo parlor. unfortunately, their disruptions are driving away her customers and she needs to put an end to it, even if she doesn’t like confrontation.

LUKE HEMMINGS

HIS FAVORITE SECRET [4.3K] - In which Bambi has had enough of Luke hiding her. (COMPLETED)       HIS FAVOURITE GIRL [3.4K] - In which Luke’s work gets in the way of him and Bambi’s activities and Bambi is frustrated. [SMUT]       HIS FAVOURITE CLUB [2.5K] - In which the truth of Luke’s occupation finally hits Bambi.        HER FAVOURITE PROTECTOR [3.25K] -  its been weeks since Luke and Bambi last spoke after their argument at the club, and everything seems bleak. things take a turn for the worst for bambi, but it seems only luke can save her from this one.

MICHAEL CLIFFORD

AND YET, I STILL LOVE YOU [1.8K] - In which Daisy has to attend the wedding of her ex boyfriend and her perfect sister. Chaos and arguments ensue. (COMPLETED)

[loverofthine]

vulnerable l.h. - energy drink

There were many occasions on which Seph had an issue staying awake. That day was like any other.

She had fallen asleep in the previous class, although when the person next to her stood, barely missing her shoulder with his huge backpack, she practically jumped up. With a yawn, she shut her laptop and glanced up, meeting a withering stare from her professor. This was not the first time she'd fallen asleep in that class, but to be fair, she had a lab class before, where she hardly got the time to sit down. And her Classic Lit class was just so boring sometimes. They were reading the Iliad, which Seph had read several times before, so she dozed off often. She'd never gotten less than a 75% on any quiz.

Seph pulled her backpack over her shoulder, stifling a yawn to nod at her professor on her way out. With her long legs and fast pace, she exited the lit building before anyone from her class, mostly because they had friends to talk to.

"Seph!" She bristled at the sharp wind, and pulled her coat closer to her body. If she heard the person call her name, she didn't let it show. The person called her name two more times as they approached, but Seph continued towards the union, humming along to her music softly. "Squish!" Someone snatched her arm, effectively pulling her earbud from her ear and yanking her off the path.

"Jesus, Ash, you could've done that nicer." Seph muttered, rolling her eyes. She tucked her earbuds into her pocket with a huff. "What?"

Ashton raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms, as if there was something he was catching Seph for. "Class?" Cursing, Seph shut her eyes and leaned her head back. She and Ashton had their final class of the day next, and she had definitely forgotten. Ashton cocked his head to the side, eyebrows tilting up sympathetically. "You didn't sleep again."

"It's not like I'm not trying," Seph protested, allowing Ashton to take her arm and lead them down the pavement. "I'm just," She trailed off with a sigh.

"Struggling." Ashton finished. They'd had this conversation time upon time, since Seph's problem had developed in high school. "I know. Class's only an hour, and then I'll let you go." Ashton was a great notetaker, and would occasionally allow Seph to skip, but very rarely. "Unless you want to go get noodles."

That was tempting. Seph, Ashton, and Seph's brother went out on payday nearly every month, but Seph had gotten a surprisingly large tip the night before, and had promised to take them out within the week.

Ashton and Seph had been friends since Seph and her twin brother, Michael, were born. For their entire lives, the three had been the best of friends, so much so that when Seph was accepted into her first choice university, Ashton and Michael weren't far behind.

Even stepping into the lecture hall, Seph felt her tiredness weigh further on her shoulders. Ashton led her towards the back of the hall, where hopefully, he'd be able to shake Seph awake if she fell asleep, which was more than likely.

Approaching his group of peers, Ashton slapped his palm against one of his friend's. He and Seph took their normal spots. Just after class began, a boy skulked up the aisle, slumping into the seat next to Seph. She flashed Ashton a look - it wasn't as big a class as most 200s, so there were plenty of empty seats - but he said nothing, just lifted his shoulders. The stranger next to her kept his head down and didn't carry any books, just pulled out his phone and began scrolling through something.

"Seph." Seph wrinkled her nose, nestling further into her bed. Priya had been warned not to wake her, unless there was blood, or unless she was late, but Seph couldn't hear her alarm clock, so she figured she had time. "Seph." Priya called again, more urgently this time. If it had been worthy of waking up, she would have been yelling, so Seph drowned her out and turned away. Her bed smelled different, but a good different. Priya muttered something, but in her, for once, peaceful slumber, Seph continued tuning her out. "Kore!" Priya didn't know that name. As a matter of fact, the only people who knew that name were Ashton and Michael.

Seph jolted up. She was still in the lecture hall, but it had mostly cleared out. The only people around were Ashton and his friends, and the stranger, who stared at Seph with an amused look. Her cheeks heated, and she stood instantly.

The guy, who she hadn't been able to see before, was shockingly attractive, with eyes she would describe as the color of her walls at home - aegean blue - and curly blond hair. Seph was sure she'd seen him around before, but couldn't be sure until he stood. He was over six feet tall, and towered over Ashton, who still sat.

"Sorry about that, man." Ashton said, hurriedly, as he stood. "Um, if you want to sit here next time, I'll make sure Seph doesn't sleep on you again." He continued, offering a chuckle as he nudged Seph's shoulder.

"Yeah, sorry." She muttered, avoiding the stranger's gaze.

The boy waved their apologies off, and finally met Seph's eyes. "It's all good." Seph hadn't been expecting such an easygoing grin. "It wasn't that bad, actually," His grin turned a bit more mischievous. "At least, until the drooling." With a soft chuckle, he spun on his heel and started back down the aisle towards the door, only lifting a hand in farewell when Ashton said goodbye.

"Oh my God." Seph muttered, falling back into her seat and burying her head in her hands.

Ashton laughed softly, leaning down to pat her on the back. "Kore, it's okay. I don't think he was mad." He assured her, once all of his friends had gone.

With a withering look, Seph turned her glare to Ashton, scowling at him. "And stop calling me that, I hate it." Only her family called her Kore, related to the fact that her mother was overly enthused with Greek literature. Ashton only knew because he was almost always at their house, and overheard her and Michael's parents using it.

"Maybe if you pay attention better I wouldn't have to use it." He retorted with a grin. Seph deflated, and with a cackle, he pulled her up. "C'mon, Mike'll meet us at your dorm." He said, pulling her down the aisle.

"What's the matter with you?" Michael asked with a chuckle as Seph and Ashton approached. His grin widened as they got closer, and he wrapped his arm around his sister's shoulders. "Don't pout, Squish." He urged, nudging her gently when she reached out to scan her keycard.

Seph tried to tune the boys out as she stalked down the corridor to her room. She did, however, pick up on the fact that Ashton definitely clued Michael in to at least some of what happened, or she figured from the raucous laugh Michael let out at one point.

"Stay." She ordered, upon swinging the door to her dorm open. Ashton and Michael inched up to the doorway, but obeyed, only peering into the room.

Seph and her roommate, Priya, had an odd relationship. They weren't really friends, but they got along well, and Priya let Michael and Ashton come over every now and then, but she preferred to have their room as a sanctuary. For once, Seph was actually a little happy to have a reason to have a place to herself. She and Michael had always shared a room, and the only time she could recall having a room to herself was when their parents took them and Ashton on a trip, and Michael and Ashton had shared a room.

"Hey, are you working tonight?" Priya asked, looking up from her desk. Both of them were good studiers, but Seph worked a lot more than Priya did. "I didn't expect to see you back here."

"I'm going out to eat with Mike and Ash, you want to come?" Seph offered, dropping her backpack at the foot of her bed. It was still made from the two days prior.

For once, Priya nodded and stood, abandoning the notes she'd been working on. "You wouldn't believe how weird this day has been." She sighed, grabbing her purse from where both of theirs hung in the closet.

"Oh, I think it's been a weird day for us all." Seph chuckled, mimicking Priya's actions to grab her own purse.

"That took forever." Michael muttered, once Priya and Seph emerged, groaning as if it hadn't been less than five minutes since Seph had gone in. "Hey, Priya." He nodded in greeting as the four of them started down the hallway. A few girls poked their heads out to greet Seph and Priya as they passed, but Michael, who knew almost everyone, greeted everyone who came down the hall. Several of them he knew because his and Ashton's dorm was the floor just above.

~

"So, Kei was talking about this new gaming bar that just opened up." Ashton said once they had settled into their table at Seph's favorite noodle bar.

Priya looked up from the menu with a bemused grin. "Yeah, have you forgotten that none of us can drink yet?" She asked, grin widening as Seph chuckled and bumped her fist against Priya's.

Ashton scowled and flicked a crumpled up piece of paper across the table to Priya. "Anyway," He continued, rolling his eyes. "They have some fun mocktails," He emphasized, turning to glare at Priya, who chuckled and looked away. "But you can just grab a table and they have games you can play."

"There's also this movie I wanted to go see," Michael said, nearly interrupting Ashton. He turned to Seph, and bumped her shoulder with one of his knuckles. "It's an adaptation of that book, you know the one," He paused and turned to Ashton. "We used to read it all the time." Both Ashton and Seph shrugged, glancing at each other. "Oh, whatever, it's out now, and I think we should go see it." He finished, flapping his hand unconcerned.

"Well, anyway, Seph, I'm surprised you got the night off of work." Priya observed, taking a sip of the juice the waiter had brought.

It was rare that there was a day Seph didn't work, even more than Ashton, who worked at the same restaurant. She nodded at a person who walked in, her lab partner from freshman year, before responding. "Yeah, I covered for Lucy a few days last week, so she took today, and she's taking tomorrow too."

Chuckling, Ashton patted his friend's head. "Lucky you, with a free day, all to yourself. And some of us have to come in early." Seph covered her mouth to prevent laughing too loudly. "You'd think my manager would like me more." She could no longer control her giggles, and glanced up at Ashton, chuckling rather carelessly. Seph was one of the team leads at their restaurant, and since she was a student, it fell to her to schedule everyone from the same school, and although it was not a targeted offense to schedule Ashton to come in early, he really liked to milk it.

"Calum! Hey, mate, good to see you." Michael said, over the top of Ashton and Seph's heads. They had to turn behind them to find a familiar face.

Seph stared at the boy from earlier, who looked the same as before, save for a band aid on the top of his cheek. He and his friend, apparently, recognized Michael based on the way they grinned and waved. Despite their grins, Seph's cheeks burned, and she spun back around in her chair to sink down, hoping the boy wouldn't recognise her. Priya cocked her head to the side, but Seph just shook her head.

Twin telepathy was definitely not a thing, based on the way that Michael waved the unfamiliar pair over. When Seph kicked him harshly in the shin, Michael only cursed, but said nothing else.

"'Sup, Luke?" Michael greeted, pulling his friend in for a swift hug and bumping his fist against the other boy's fist. "You guys want to eat with us?" He offered, gesturing to the empty table next to theirs. "We only just ordered."

The two boys glanced at one another before shrugging. The shorter one went to find a waiter to make sure they could move the tables together, and once he had gotten approval, he came back to move the table closer. Seph sunk further in her chair, hoping Ashton might get the memo and offer to move.

"Luke, Cal, this is Ashton," Michael introduced, once the newcomers had taken their seats. Luke sat next to Seph, thanks to Michael's persuasion, despite his sister's silent glare. Ashton reached over Seph's head to wave at the two.

"I'm Calum, and Luke's over there pouting." Calum said with a chuckle, nodding to Luke, who had his nose buried in his phone. "He's had a rough go of it today." He whispered, as if Luke couldn't hear any of them.

Luke, with a glare in Calum's direction, finally put his phone away and looked to Ashton, to finally greet him. He recoiled shortly in surprise, pointing at Ashton. "Oh, hey, it's you. Long time no see." He glanced down at the girl trying her hardest to become invisible. "Sleeping Beauty, napping again?"

Michael glanced between Luke, Ashton, and Seph, turning to Priya to lift his eyebrows in confusion, but she only shrugged. "You know each other?"

Seph buried her head in her hands, and Ashton patted her shoulder, looking to Luke to explain. "We met in class earlier." He summarized, glancing down at Seph, who still avoided eye contact.

"Oh, well, Calum, this is my sister, Seph." Michael said, after an awkward pause.

"Steph?"

"Seph." Ashton interrupted, before Michael could correct him. "No t."

Calum turned to Seph, who kept her head down, only glancing up slightly to wave. "Seph's an interesting name. Is it short for something?"

Seph looked up, suddenly, at Ashton, who was grinning. "Oh, why, yes, actually," He began, with a wide grin. Michael and Seph shared a frantic look and Ashton was cut off by both of Seph's hands coming up to cover his mouth. His words were muffled by her hands, and Priya was the only one to actually know what he had said, but it wasn't news to her.

"Ashton Irwin, I swear to God." She warned, fixing him with a stoney glare. "We've been over this." Seph hated her full name, possibly even more than she hated Kore, but it was Ashton's favorite thing to tease her about.

~

"C'mon, Squish, it's not that hot." Michael teased, leaning across the table to smirk at his sister.

Seph scowled, setting her drink down on the table with a thud. "You wanna try it?" She dared, pushing her bowl towards him. Seph had the highest pain tolerance of several of them, except maybe Priya, who tended to stay away from spicy things, anyway. Because of this, she had ordered the spiciest ramen available, but most of the ramen she enjoyed wasn't so bad.

Michael immediately paled and shook his head. Priya mimicked his action when Seph glanced at her, nodding towards the noodles. "I'll keep some taste buds today." She said, sharing a giggle with Ashton.

"I'll try it."

Seph turned to Luke, not expecting him to have volunteered. He had remained mostly silent for the duration of their meal, and she couldn't help but worry if it was her fault. Based on the cocky grin he wore, she deduced it was probably not.

"It's probably not that bad." He tempted, inching towards Seph. She glanced around, but everyone else was entranced by a story Priya was telling. "So, c'mon, Princess." He said, eyebrows cocking upwards. "Or are you worried it's not that bad?"

"Go ahead." Seph retorted, pushing the bowl towards Luke, leaning back in her chair. Silently, he shook his head and pointed towards his mouth. Seph arched an eyebrow. He wasn't really going to make her feed him.

After a moment of staring each other down, Seph sighed, and resolved to making Luke a bite, offering him her spoon. He, begrudgingly, accepted the spoon from her hands and took a bite, returning it to her. For a moment, his grin remained steady, leaning back in his own seat. After a few more beats, however, his grin shook, and he turned away to gulp. At this, Seph giggled, covering her mouth and taking another bite of her noodles.

"So, is she overreacting?" Calum asked his friend, leaning forward with a grin that he shared with Seph.

Luke leaned back and crossed his arms, and he would've looked cool - Seph thought he had a cocky aura that made him attractive - if it weren't for his red cheeks. "Yeah, it's fine." He panted, fingers drumming on the table. He was not good with spice, and had gotten much too over his head.

Seph shook her head, chuckling as she leaned her chin on her hand, watching Luke's face redden. "Hot enough for you, Princess?" She teased, biting her lip in a grin when his eyes watered. If it had been Ashton or Michael, she would have been crying with laughter, but she didn't know Luke nearly as well, and although he had teased her, she didn't feel like doing the same. For the most part.

"You know what?" Luke croaked after downing an entire glass of water. He pointed his long finger at Seph, close enough that the tip of his finger brushed the tip of her nose, which raised her eyebrows, but neither of them said anything more about it. "You-" He cut himself off, ducking his head to avoid anyone seeing his eyes water with the heat. "Goddamn."

"What'd you do to him, Squish?" Ashton asked upon the collective realization that Luke was suffering over something. Calum had watched the interaction with rapt attention, but Ashton, Michael, and Priya had been chatting about something completely unrelated.

Seph shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "Nothing that he didn't deserve." At that, Luke turned up to scowl at her, and a pang of guilt shot through her stomach. "Sorry, dude." She offered, carefully glancing down at Luke.

"So, Seph, what's your major?" Calum asked, leaning his head on his hand to grin at her. Luke was still struggling, but he was generally pushed to the side, except for Michael, who was nearly crying with laughter. "Mike mentioned you're here on a scholarship."

With a glare towards Michael – who didn't even recognize his sister's stare – Seph glanced back towards Calum. "Yeah, I'm actually double majoring in musical theater and classics." Or, as hers and Michael's grandmother referred to it, the two most useless majors.

"Oh, so you sing?" Calum continued, disregarding the poisonous way Ashton was staring at him.

Seph's cheeks reddened, and she ran a hand through the ends of her hair. "Uh, yeah. I guess."

"That's really cool. You know-"

"Squish, did you see the gaming bar Kei was talking about?" Ashton interrupted, grabbing Seph's arm to pull her towards him, thrusting his phone in her face. He scowled at Calum, but if the latter noticed, he didn't react.

Nodding absent-mindedly, Seph scrolled through the listing. "Yeah, looks really cool, Ash. We should go tonight." She turned her attention back to Calum. "D'you two wanna come to this bar with us later?"

Luke finally looked up, eyes raking over Seph, and then to Michael. "Are you even old enough to drink?" He asked with a soft chuckle.

Seph scowled, arching an eyebrow. "It's a gaming bar." Suddenly, she empathized with Ashton for Priya's prior teasing. "You know, with games?"

"We'd love to join." Calum said, before Luke could fire back the retort that waited on the tip of his tongue. "But I work early, so I'll probably have to leave before midnight."

"Oh, we all do." Michael assured him with a confident grin.

"Except for Seph. You can stay out all night." Priya added, grinning at her roommate, which earned her a scowl. They both knew Seph was going home and sleeping for forever. If she could fall asleep. "So, which club are you going to?" She teased, sticking her tongue out at Seph, who responded in kind.

Seph sighed, and rolled her eyes. "Luke's also free tonight, maybe you two should do something." Calum added, before Seph could refuse. At Luke's scorn, Calum defensively raised his hands. "Dude, it's a joke, you guys don't have to."

Scowling, Seph nudged Ashton over to slip out of the hightop. "I'm going to wash my hands." She grumbled, tossing her hair over her shoulder before heading away from the table.

The restroom was peacefully quiet, with the exception of soft music playing over the speakers. Seph leaned down to splash her face with cool water, sighing softly and running a hand through her hair. She hadn't been able to rest at all, even on the bus, when she could normally fall asleep on Ashton for a minute, so the cool water was to combat the sagging of her eyelids, as well as the warm cheeks that were a side effect of the spicy noodles.

She poked at the bags permanently under her eyes, made worse by her lack of sleep, sighing when they didn't magically disappear. With a sniff, she leaned back, pulling her ponytail out to shake her hair down her back.

Seph should've had an energy drink before she left that morning.

[lovesosweeet]

KNOW IT ALL x THE BAND CAMINO

part 1

a calum hood songfic

Tillie Beckett isn’t known for sticking around, and maybe that’s why touring had come so naturally to her, even as an amateur when she first began as an opener for 5 Seconds of Summer a few years ago… hopping from city to city, bed to bed, hookup to hookup. She broke hearts and left messes behind. And she didn’t care about it all, too wrapped up in whatever whirlwind she found herself in next.

The habits became religion as she propelled to stardom. Her music — angsty, energetic, unapologetic, and unpolished — took the charts by storm following her self-titled album’s debut. Her words were raw and honest, and they resonated with her audience, with upbeat and electric sounds that even the grouchiest and grumpiest of listeners couldn’t help but nod along to. It was the perfect mix of relatable and catchy, and that’s what made her the perfect opener for 5SOS.

Ashton had found Tillie’s videos on Instagram, where she often teased her emotional and early versions of songs she was writing. Her raspy voice caught his attention quickly, and he became a follower very early on, before she’d gone viral… which, she has done several times now. When 5SOS was prepping their latest tour, he threw Tillie’s name out as his top choice as an opener, and the rest of the band quickly supported it after they watched her cover of their very own, very old song “Lost Boy” and put a fresh spin on it. It was a song that the band themselves had honestly forgotten about that she gave an entirely new life. They were hooked and called her just hours after Ashton’s initial suggestion to offer her the spot.

Her friendship with the Australian quartet was forged in what, at the time, seemed to be an unbreakable bond. She was invited to dinner at Luke’s house to review the plans, the money, and all the other logistics of the tour, but the nitty gritty was long forgotten as the five of them stayed up until the sun rose the next day, just talking, jamming, drinking, and smoking the stars out of the sky.

She and Calum weren’t instant friends, at least, not the way she was with Michael. Tillie and Michael had bonded instantly over being gamers with an affinity for ever changing hair colors. He could also dress in her wardrobe and no one would’ve been able to guess that they weren’t his clothes, that is, if her clothes were big enough to fit the 6-foot-something Australian giant, since she was a mere 5 feet tall.

But, her friendship with Michael isn’t what landed her on the cover of tabloids.

No, the pictures of hers and Calum’s necks covered in matching bruises were what landed on the homepages of gossip websites. The videos of her and Calum whispering in what they thought were private corners of dive bars spread like wildfire amongst their somewhat overlapping fan bases. Them stumbling down the cobblestoned sidewalks of Montreal, hand in hand, for an impromptu “bachelor party” for Michael littered their tagged photos on Instagram for weeks.

It was a pair nobody expected but nobody questioned. It wasn’t predictable but it made sense.

At least, it did to Calum.

part 2

my masterlist! :)

—

A/N: hi i’m actually quite stoked about this one?!?!! sorry to anyone who wanted a self insert i personally feel more comfy in the OC x RP world and that technically won my poll! feels easier to separate as fiction/“characters” :)

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Like Chocolate

Calum fell in love like chocolate melts in your pocket--in the time it takes to blink and forget the thing and turn back around. Jada fell in love like the crashing tide of a shore--steady and completely. When Calum goes home with Jada for the holidays, more than just his feelings come to the surface. Five sisters, one love, and plenty of antics, Jada and Calum find out what they’re really made of. 

Shotgun Wedding (ish) x Black!OC

CW: 18+ Content (Smut and Smut adjacent mentions)

_________________________

The drive’s only four hours long to Vegas, hardly long enough for Calum to bat an eye at given the stretches of time he’s spent on a tour bus and for Jada, she does the drive several times a year for the holidays, family or friends weddings, graduations and sometimes just because. It’s not even a blip in a day but somehow the time feels like it could never end. And honestly, time could go on forever between the two of them between the off key singing from Jada and Calum’s constant giggles at the ad libs she adds in just to create more umph for the song. 

There’s one pit stop, at a gas station a little over halfway through their trip. And in the aisle of the little store, Calum’s mesmerized at the way she dances to whatever is playing. He can’t tell if she actually knows the song or not, but it doesn’t seem to matter at all. The worker’s don’t care either about the giggles or Jada’s dancing but Calum loves the way that time hangs behind them, as if it could never catch up to them on this trip. 

“When we get to the house, the first thing Ma’s gonna want to do is go grocery shopping. So we should be able to pick up some booze then too,” Jada states, grabbing the purple bag of Takis from the hook. 

“What does your Mum like again? I know she’s into red wine. But anything else?” Calum asks, walking down the aisle to her. The dancing’s done for now as it’s serious work to figure out the snacks for the last half of the trek. He tucks the two waters into the crook of his elbow, nestling it up against his side. 

“She’s a Hennessey drinker too,” Jada remarks as she pulls the bag of Skittles from the box. “Should I stick with chips or get something sweet too?”

“Chips. If you get something sweet, you’ll ruin your appetite.” Calum takes a glance around, thankful for the trucker hat he’s adorning and the sun glasses. He knows it won’t fully keep him from getting spotted but it’s just enough that he lowers just a bit to kiss Jada’s cheek. The attendant hardly glances up from their phone. 

With a smile resting on her cheeks, Jada glances up to Calum. “You’re right, and I hate that.” 

“Oh give me a break,” he scoffs, but stays at her side as she goes back to contemplating all the choices in front of them. They’re ahead of schedule. Jada had gotten up early and prepped a big breakfast that would hopefully keep them satiated enough. Though, the snacks now might be proving how close to the end that breakfast might be getting. Calum, awake by the smell of pancakes, got up and helped finish the cooking and cleaning process. By the time food was eaten and the kitchen cleaned, it only made sense to just get out on the road earlier than it would’ve been waiting around. 

“Okay, I’m done. I just need my Gatorade.”

Calum dangles the clear bottle with red liquid between a few fingers. “I gotcha babe.”

“Thanks,” she says, turning to follow him towards the register. The person is cordial as they ring up the chips and drinks. 

The afternoon sun is just starting to crest into the sky when they step back outside. Calum’s quick to open Jada’s door--passenger side-- once they get to the truck. Calum insisted on doing the drive to the house and on the way back. But Jada decided that she should drive around the town, and it was less of a decision and more like a mandate if Calum was going to drive them there and back, she didn’t want him to do all the driving. Not like it wasn’t out of the ordinary. Calum, when it was the two of them, would normally drive. Occasionally, Jada drove them back depending on if it was to and from the airport or to a place that she wanted to keep as a surprise. And they weren’t even sure how it became a thing between them that Calum did a lot of the driving. But somehow it had. 

“So we’re either doing hard liquor,” Calum starts as he settles back into the driver seat. The door shuts before he gets the last part of the sentence out, “or we’re doing wine.”

“I mean any alcohol will go over well. But those are her favorites. Paul holds no allegiances.” 

A hum sounds around them as Jada connects her phone back to the aux cord and presses play on the playlist again. Calum hates to walk into anyone’s home empty handed. Especially not her parent’s house where he’s going to be housed for the next week and a half. He’s met her family a handful of times, mostly for family gatherings and holidays. And they’re great people, inviting him with open arms. But he still didn’t want to get too comfortable and have them thinking he didn’t appreciate them for all that they did.

“Should we—” Calum starts as the song fades out and then pauses. If Jada and he go grocery shopping with her mother, he can still get something decent for the family. 

“Should we what, babe?”

Calum shakes his head. “Nah, it’ll just be easier to grab it when your mum goes shopping. But we should tell them, we’re coming in earlier than we originally said.”

“I texted Ma already. Once we get on the road. I think Paul is still out on his shift? I don’t know; there was some vague mention of him still being out.”

Calum nods, reaching over to rest a hand on her thigh. The material of the leggings are soft and he strokes his thumb, almost absent-mindedly. But he doesn't miss the way that Jada presses her legs together just for a moment at the first contact. He glances over and takes in the sight of her dark purple stained lips and the way her hair tumbles down her shoulder in waves. Sure, she was wearing a wig--Jada would be hard pressed to dye her own black tresses platinum blonde--and he knows beneath it is the cap and beneath that are the cornrows she’d had a friend do for her a week ago. But it’s all Jada and that’s all he could ever ask for. 

Time’s left behind again. Calum listens to the tap of her nails on the phone screen as she moves from one playlist to another. He knows because the silence stretches on longer than the time between songs. “Christmas music or more vibes?” Jada asks. 

“Whatever you want,” he returns, squeezing at her inner thigh. 

“Hmm,” she starts. “Maybe we need some villain origin story music right now.”

Calum giggles. “And why might you say that?”

“Because you’ve got your hand in places that are dangerous,” Jada states, leaning forward just a little to adjust the volume on the dial. 

“You weren’t saying that last night,” Calum returns, dropping his voice a little. And there wasn’t much talking if Calum’s going to be honest. He’d gotten in later than he wanted from the studio. And it wasn’t even like a small window of time either. Jada and he agreed to meet at the house at 4 so they could get some last minute things for travel. Calum needed body wash and Jada needed to reup on makeup wipes, brush cleaner, and studier bags for all the hair and makeup things. Tasha, the third oldest, had a choir performance and asked Jada to help her get ready for it for tomorrow. 

Realistically, Jada could’ve done all of that on her own. But Calum wanted to tag along mostly because he had spent too much the rest of the week deep into work so that him being on an extended vacation wouldn’t hold up any mixing. And truthfully, he’d missed being around Jada. She made him feel calm in an instant. Calum was on track to make it out of the studio at 3 and even be home early, until the studio lost power--and it was only for a couple of minutes. But it’d been in the middle of a recording. The system took forever to get back up and by the time Calum was able to lay the track he’d already lost 45 minutes. And right as he thought he could slip out and only be an hour or so late, an accident occured on his way there that set him an additional two and a half hours behind. 

To say that Calum was pissed when he walked through the door of the house was an understatement. If it weren’t for Duke and Jada’s calming presence, Calum was sure he would’ve lost his head and maybe all his shit too. But there was Jada, wrapped up in a blanket at the kitchen bar, and soft music played over the Bluetooth speakers and she’d made his favorite dish of hers. Not his favorite dish of all time—only his mom seemed to be able to craft it just right, though Jada had tried and was getting closer each time she did. And he absolutely wanted nothing more than her at that moment. So much so, that he’d closed the microwave right as she’d attempted to warm up the plate fixed for him and picked Jada amup wordlessly. The kisses on her neck told her everything she needed to know. 

“It was kind of hard to when you put in work like that,” Jada chuckles. “I mean you ate like you were starved and I did have a plate ready for you almost.”

Calum’s laughter is soft as it escapes his chest. But he doesn’t say anything else in response. The conversation dies down, but he keeps his hand resting on her inner thigh, enjoying the pressure when Jada crosses her legs and traps his hand. It’s not tight hardly, as much as it is just the weight of her that grounds Calum. He could easily slip his hand out if he needed it for anything. But the highways are clear for the most part. There are some cars, but nothing that worries him. 

“It’s the second left,” Jada navigates, turning the volume down on the playlist. The last half an hour passed in relative silence. Jada apologized for the lack of entertainment, but with them closing in on the house, she had to make sure her mom was ready and that Tasha sent her the pictures for hair and makeup. And it was to also double check that Tasha hadn’t changed her mind and Jada didn’t need to grab anything else that she might’ve left behind. 

Calum signals for the turn and once the neighborhood opens up in front of them, he reclines back into his seat. “I have no clue why I can’t remember that turn in particular,” he murmurs, cruising to a stop at the four way. “Everything else I’ve got like a piece of cake.”

“All of the houses look almost the same. It’s easy to confuse it,” Jada offers. 

Passing one more block, Calum signals for the right turn. He slows down knowing the third house on the left is all he needs. Two cars are already in the driveway, so he continues down to the next available house, pulls in and then backs out to park on the street in front of the house rather than across the street. From the street, the house does sort of look like all the others. But it’s what’s on the inside. Calum can almost hear the music from one of the bedroom’s blasting even from inside the silent truck. The TV in the living room most certainly would be on too. Jada’s childhood home was always alive in ways that Calum missed from his own childhood, though he hadn’t quite gotten used to the idea of five children. But the four bedroom house seemed to still be standing. 

With their bags, for personal stuff, makeup, and Christmas presents, they climb up the driveway and Jada knocks. “I’m too lazy to find my key right now,” she laughs and Calum shakes his head. And it was probably less laziness as it hinged more on the fact that not only across her body were her packed bags and in one hand she had the rolling hair and makeup case, but because he was also carrying one of the two Christmas present bags. Finding keys in this mess was a priority zero at the moment. 

The door swings open soon after, Vicky, the youngest of the bunch greeting them. “Jada! Hi Calum!” she grins, stepping to the side. “Ma! Jada and Calum are here!”

“My God, girl,” Jada giggles stepping into the house. “You gon’ be taller than me if you don’t stop growing.” Jada, standing at 5’8, was not an easy one to surpass, but Vicky definitely looked like she was giving Jada a run for her money. Calum would guess she was nearby 5’6 and only at 12–which was the crazy part. 

The two of them hug each other as much as possible and Jada shuffles further into the house. Vicky greets Calum with a side hug. It’s not too much longer before Tasha, Serenity, and Destini come barreling down the stairs of the house. The Christmas presents are at least slipped under the tree, freeing up enough hands for proper greetings. 

Jada’s engulfed in hugs. The mass of girls sway for a little bit and from the kitchen, Jada’s mother, Roslyn, comes, arms stretched out to join in on the reunion. It’s a joyous sound that fills the house and Calum grins watching them. It’s always like this--as if they hadn’t seen each other in years rather than months. But it always warms his heart.

Calum knows better than to interrupt this moment, so he hangs back making sure the door is fully closed and locked behind him and slips out of his shoes before proceeding further into the house. “Calum!” Roslyn shuffles over to him a big hug too. “I’m glad you could come too!”

“Thanks so much for having me, Roslyn. It means a lot,” he returns, wrapping one arm around her. 

“Of course, of course!” They release each other and Roslyn smiles brightly as ever. And it’s easy to see where Jada gets her smile from. “The drive wasn’t too long now was it?”

“No, traffic was good to us today.” Thankfully it was today. If truth be told, Calum’s glad he got caught with the accident yesterday rather than today. A nightmare of a situation if he ever had to conjure such a thing to life. 

“Good. I swear sometimes getting anywhere in this city is almost like a nightmare. But I’m sure you know all about that with LA traffic.”

“The most nightmares of all nightmares,” Calum returns with a small laugh. By this time the huddle of girls has separated a little and the rest of Jada’s sisters greet Calum as well, side hugs mostly but with lots of grins. 

“Where’s Paul?” Jada asks. 

“Work still. I’m sure it’s nothing too bad,” Rosyln returns. Twenty plus years he’s served and Roslyn only had hope to cling to in the end. “Alright, we got a lot to get at the store. So whoever wants to join, get ready now and we’ll meet back in half an hour,” Roslyn tells the group. “And that way y’all two can get settled a little bit too if y’all want to join.”

“Ma, of course we’re coming with you. You go overboard if no one’s there to stop you,” Jada returns but makes sure to seal the sentiment with a kiss to her mother’s cheek. Jada leads the way up the stairs to her old room--the only thing that had changed was the paint color since she’d moved to LA.

“We still love you though, Ma,” Serenity, the second oldest, says in addition to Jada’s comment behind Jada and Calum. 

The stairs creak just a little as they climb but inside the room, they drop their bags down either along the wall of the closet or on the bed itself. Some of her dance trophies are still lining the walls and Calum finds himself imagining what Jada might’ve been like back in high school, what his life could’ve looked like if she was there then. But more than anything, he’s just glad she’s here now. Resting one knee on the bed, Calum stretches his arm out across to her. Jada looks up, a small hum falling from her throat to let Calum know he’s caught her attention. 

“I love you,” he whispers. 

Her smile softens, eyes oozing nearly, and her whole face lights up when she speaks. “I love you.” 

Jada carefully pulls the sweatshirt off and swaps it for a light cardigan before fishing out her wallet and keys. It’s strange to be home. And maybe it was really only strange in the sense that in some ways, she felt--in addition to all the love that was here--she was still playing a role. As the eldest out of the five of them, Jada always sort of felt like she was setting an example. By the time Serenity was born, Jada was already nine. Her mom, and Paul--her stepdad but all her sister’s biological father--relied on her in ways at the time she was proud to fulfill but she could see in reflection that they’d used her in ways that made her feel like a third parent. And sure, Jada could stay mad at them, but more now with the distance did Jada realize how much coming home felt like stepping back into that role. 

But Jada thinks about seeing Serenity, Tasha, Destini, and Vicky and the way that it’s always been them against the world. That no matter how shitty it got, they always had each other and it reminded Jada that she was never alone in this world. That even though it took her a whole ten years to unlearn all the motherly tendencies she’d accumulated, her sisters would always be her biggest supporters. 

From the cracked door, both Calum and Jada hear another booming voice. “I leave for the night shift and then I come back to see some heavy rollers,” Paul teases. “Jada and Calum made it okay, I take it?”

With a snicker to each other, Jada shakes her head. Paul’s always been a jokester, but he treated her nicely and it was all Jada could ask for really after so many years with just her and her mother sticking it out together. While he could never truly fill the wounds Jada felt about not having her biological father in her life, Paul did what he could. He was there for the dance competitions, first boyfriends and girlfriends, heartache. He knew he couldn’t do it all, but having someone like Paul was just what Jada needed. 

“Only heavy roller I know is you, Paul,” Jada bellows, walking out of the room. Calum smiles watching her. He follows behind, after getting his phone plugged into the charger. They descend back down the stairs and Paul turns in the dining table chair, still in his uniform. The twenty plus years as a paramedic hadn’t creased his face just yet either, not as he grins spotting Jada. 

She embraces him while he stays seated, dropping a kiss to the top of his bald head. “That’s one hell of a night shift,” Jada notes. 

“Duty calls. Someone’s gotta keep an eye out. Besides, I worked this shift and I was able to get off tomorrow for Tasha.”

“So I’ll be sure to make every bit of noise I can after we get back.”

Paul laughs, “It’s a good thing I sleep like the dead.” When Calum peaks into his peripheral vision, Paul waves him in closer. “How’s it hanging, Calum?”

“Can’t complain,” is Calum’s return. 

“Anything you want to add to the grocery list?” Roslyn asks, sliding it in front of Paul. “Rest of us are going in a few.”

“Hey, Calum, can you help me with something?” 

Calum looks up at the sound of name and finds Destini at the foot of the stairs. He nods, stepping towards her. “What’s up? Something too high up?”

Destini is silent as she glances back to Jada, Roslyn, and Paul. She ascends the stairs and Calum follows, unsure of what is going on, but doesn’t ask for more details just yet. They get upstairs and Calum still follows. They pass Jada’s old room and continue until he sees all her sisters tucked away in the room Destini and Vicky share. 

“Oh, uh, is this where you all tell me you secretly hate me?” Calum jokes. 

Serenity laughs. “If we hated you, you’d know.”

“We need your help with someone for Jada though,” Tasha explains. 

Calun nods as he speaks, “Count me in, whatever it is.”

“Well that was easy,” Vicky teases. 

Calum tries to keep the blush from his cheeks, and wants so desperately to keep his cool. But it’s impossible when it involves Jada. “Look at him!” Serenity hollers. “You’re blushing, Calum.” 

“By God, you’re hollering is going to ruin this whole surprise, Serenity,” Tasha huffs, lightly smacking her older sister on her arm. “Keep it down.”

“What are you planning?” Calum asks, knowing there’s nothing else to say to divert the attention. 

“Ma wants to do this big thing for all us being in town, make a really big dinner. But she doesn’t want Jada to know she’s doing that. So we need to distract Jada during the grocery shopping a little and then on Sunday too.”

He thinks he can do that. Jada had a few places that she liked to frequent when she came home. Sunday’s weren’t an ideal day to go out bar hopping but with Christmas happening on a Saturday, he thinks he can distract her with a lunch date instead. But if all her sisters stay, he wonders if it would raise any suspicions.  “How long do y’all need her out of the house on Sunday?”

“If me and Tasha can stay behind, a few hours,” Serenity answers. 

He turns his attention away from Serenity just for a brief moment. “Destini and Vicky, I’m going to need you two for Sunday. Jada talks about wanting to take you two out on her visit, so I think Sunday might be the day.”

The two youngest nod eagerly. “You can count me in,” Destini tacks on. Vicky shrugs, but nods her head too, the beads on the ends of her braids clicking with the action. 

“Let’s aim for as close as 10 as we can get and then we’ll try to be back around 4,” Calum looks to Serenity and Tasha. 

“Think we can do it?” Tasha asks. 

“Make it 5 and you’ve got a deal,” Serenity bargains. She’s mostly thinking about the amount of baking they have to do. 

“You drive a hard bargain, but deal,” Calum concedes. He’s not quite sure how he can keep Jada out that long without making it look suspicious, but he’s hoping Destini and Vicky can help with that. He knows getting brunch or lunch for the group will take a decent amount of time. But not even Jada has the stamina for a lot of shopping. However, he’s praying because Destini and Vicky tag along that they can help lengthen out of the time. Possibly even taking them out for manicures or pedicures. 

Tasha turns to Destini and Vicky, “Y’all can’t say anything when you’re out with them Sunday. I mean, not a word.”

Destini rolls her eyes. “Do you know which sister you’re talking to? I was told I didn’t talk unless someone spoke to me until kindergarten. I think I can keep a secret.”

Serenity giggles and looks up to Calum. “Keep close to Vicky, she can go a mile a minute.”

“I-I am right here, aren’t I?” Vicky asks, glancing around the room as if someone outside the five of them will answer. “Or am I just invisible?”

“You are right here and that’s exactly why we’re saying this,” Tasha answers. “But seriously Vicky you cannot spill the beans on this. Pinky promise me.” Tasha holds out her pinky. Her nails in some ways mirror Jada’s---red for the holidays, but aren’t as long. 

Vicky sighs and wraps her pinky around. “I promise.”

“Alright now. Finish getting ready so we can go. Ma’s going to come bellowing in a minute.”

“Thanks for helping us, Calum. We appreciate it,” Serenity states as he, Serenity, and Tasha step out of the room. 

“Of course. Happy to help,” he returns. 

Serenity and Tasha head off towards their room. Serenity’s attending a local college, but stays home and Tasha’s gearing up to finish her college applications here soon--or that’s what Jada reported to Calum. She’s looking for things in state, but a little bit out of the area. From what Calum’s gathered, there might be one or two out of state options, but he’s not entirely sure. He’ll have to ask. The stairs creak again and he’s quick to duck back into Jada’s room, trying to settle onto the edge of the bed like he’d been there the entire time. 

He listens to the footsteps but they go to the opposite end of the hallway and he exhales, knowing for at least the moment, he’s spared. He checks his text messages and nothing’s terribly pressing. Another set of footsteps can be heard and this time, they do lead right into the room. Jada sits on the edge of the bed, right next to Calum, resting her temple on his shoulder. “Where you disappear to?”

“Destini just needed help getting something from a shelf. Then I got distracted,” Calum chuckles, holding up his phone to show him just browsing Instagram. Jada stretches up to kiss his jaw. “Oh, and do you sister-nap Destini and Vicky on Sunday for the day? Brunch maybe and depending on what they get for Christmas, I’m going to assume shopping is also on the agenda. We can take them out and give Roslyn and Paul some quiet.”

“Oh, a man after my own heart via my sisters. Yeah, we can take them out. Destini’s a picky eater so we’re going to need to make sure wherever we go is good with her.”

“Food allergies?”

“No, she’s just picky. And she’s big on textures. If it’s slimy, she won’t do it. Imagine us trying to have a fish fry. She won’t do fried okra or fish. She’s kinda okay with crab legs. And Lord have mercy if you try to fix her a burger as a substitute with a tomato on it.”

“So we won’t go to a seafood place and no tomatoes. Got it.”

When they get rounded up, Roslyn takes Destini and Vicky in her car. Tasha tags along with Serenity and Calum and Jada bring up the rear. Jada pauses at the driver side door, holding her hand out. Calum sighs, but drops the keys into her palm. “I’m still getting the door for you,” he states. 

“I’d expect nothing from my Prince Charming.” 

The drive’s easy, though there’s a bit of a congestion when they go to turn up into the parking lot of the grocery store. As Calum steps out of the passenger side door, Serenity and Tasha both pass him a look from outside their car. He nods--game time for phase one. “Ma, can we get lemon cake and icing?” Destini asks. 

“Oh, yes!” Jada tacks on. It’s her favorite and though she definitely wasn’t expecting any cakes at Christmas, she won’t pass up on the opportunity to aid Destini’s agenda. 

Roslyn, grabbing a basket, hums. “We’ll see.”

“Ma’s favorite phrase,” Jada chuckles. Calum slides up next to her, threading his fingers through hers. Like they normally do, because Calum knows if he gets too far from her, be it either him lingering to read something or getting distracted in any other right, Jada will come searching or wiggle her fingers to catch his attention. It’s a silent signal, the wiggle of her fingers. One that Calum when he first saw it, had no clue what it meant. But when he didn’t respond, either by catching up or by reaching out, Jada paused, took a step back and grabbed his hand. She said nothing else, but paused with him in his attempt to decide between the original or chocolate flavor of graham crackers. 

But now, Calum’s trying to figure out how he can distract her just enough in this store. What possibly could he get them into now that wouldn’t seem too much like he was trying too hard? The first and most obvious course of distraction is the alcohol. But he can’t come across as too eager. “Should we get a second basket?” Calum asks. 

“Sure, just in case we want anything extra too,” Jada agrees and then grabs one just before they fully pass the entrance. 

Calum wiggles his fingers and she looks at him, a bit of a smile gracing her lips but her eyes say it all, I can push a cart. But she steers it in his direction. “Dying to drive something, huh?”

“It means you go at my pace and I don’t get the silent wiggle.”

“Grocery trips are precise missions,” Jada giggles. “We get in, we get out.”

“And you’re about to learn why we’ve all adopted that mindset,” Serenity teases, turning to them. Destini and Vicky have settled in at either side of Roslyn, and are already tapping on her hips to get her attention at the bright displays. 

“You and Tasha were just as bad,” Jada returns, “so I don’t know why you actin’ like you a saint now.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve given my life over to Christ,” Serenity states though she laughs as she says it. With Roslyn leading the way and Serenity and Tasha behind, Calum for a moment misses the trips to the grocery store with his own family. He hated them at the time. It felt like it always took ages with his mother carefully inspecting everything she put into the cart. But now, he gets it. It becomes a bit of a ritual, and even though most of the trips annoyed him, there was always a piece of his heart that enjoyed when he and his mother would have silly debates in the produce section or when she’d entrust him to pick out the pasta for the house. 

As the entire group dives deeper into the store, Calum notices the glances from Tasha and he knows it’s time to go in for his first move. With the wine aisle in front of them, Calum pushes the cart forwards, making sure to dodge Vicky as she hops to the song playing overhead. “We’re going to need a definitive answer on alcohol,” Calum states. 

Jada gazes just at the length of the aisle and knows for certain it’s going to be a tough call. Calum lets her take the lead and isn’t surprised when champagne is the first added to the cart. 

“For your mum, not you,” he teases. 

“Hey, hey, look. It’s for everyone,” she grins in return. “I don’t know if I should do red wine or rosé. But Ma does love a good red. Why couldn’t I have been a wine lover? Ya know, something classy. But nah, instead I’m out here sipping whiskey straight.”

“You say that like you didn’t just put champagne in the cart.”

Jada waves him off, but spies a bottle of Pinot Noir that looks promising. As she reads over the label, Calum spies some beer. “Is Paul a beer guy?”

Jada hums. “Well, yes and no. It’s not his favorite, but he’ll have one every now and then. He’d appreciate it if you bought some though. You’ve got good taste in beer so I feel like you couldn’t miss.”

“But you hate every beer I’ve given you. And it’s a good thing Ash isn’t here. He riots at my beer selection.”

“Will you hate me if I do both?” Jada returns. 

Calum, having been facing the beer selections, turns to look to Jada. “A rosé and a red?”

“Yeah.”

Serenity is twenty-one, so Calum’s sure someone will definitely polish the bottles off over the course of the week. “Nah, might as well.”

Once Jada places the two bottles into the cart, Calum softly wraps his hand around her waist. Jada leans into the touch. They stand side to side, Jada facing one section of the aisle, Calum facing the other, but still connected. And it’s nice, like this, just in the moment to lean into Calum and catch the familiar musk of his faded cologne and days old nicotine still clinging to the fabric of the green flannel. It’s these moments that mean a lot to Jada, when the world can exist around them, but they are safe inside a bubble. Jada knows it’s not a real bubble, anyone turning the corner could spot them. Calum left the hat behind, though he had tied up his hair into a little bun in the back. But he’s Calum; visible in ways that Jada couldn’t quite comprehend, but also understood so deeply in her bones. 

For either one of them was no escaping who they were—her Black and Calum Indigenous. And because of that they constantly felt exposed. While Jada knew and understood just how they were hypervisible, she couldn’t understand the fame. Not in a way that she couldn’t understand how it worked, but more like she couldn’t understand what hypervisibility meant because of fame. The way that Calum, whenever she mentioned going out and doing things, always took a bit of a deep breath and reached for a hat. It was a shield. Not that it ever hid him completely, but it hid him enough. 

She wonders if how she felt about not wearing rings and necklaces is how Calum felt without his hat. Knowing that she wasn’t actually naked without it, but with it feeling complete. And maybe that was inaccurate as well.She wore jewelry like a blanket, a thing to provide comfort and Calum wore his hats like armor, like a shield. But right now, that shield has become each other. Her face pressing into his chest and him squeezing at her waist has given them the illusion of being hidden away. 

“I need your help with beer, love.”

“And you trust me why?”

“Because I trust you with everything,” Calum returns. And he means it. It’s not even just being there, or reminding him of the little things. But he trusts her to fucking care, even if it’s just him trying to decide if he should splurge on the chocolate flavor of graham crackers or the extra donut from their favorite bakery. She cares with everything in her about him and even though it should worry him, like how could someone care that much about him? He’s so glad someone does. And he’s happy it’s her. 

“Do not go sappy on me in this grocery store. Do not,” Jada warns but pushes up and turns a little. She keeps one hand on the basket and Calum snugly wraps his arm around her waist. 

“Okay, no sap. Beer instead.”

By the time Calum and Jada settle on a case of beer, her family’s long gone. He heard them for the first few minutes of their departure, lingering on a neighboring aisle. But now he can’t hear them. So they wind up a few aisles with no luck before walking along the main straights. Every so often, Jada stops, tugging on Calum’s hand to show him something. Most of the time it’s something intriguing like a new flavor of chips or looking down at the candy aisle. He gives in and adds a couple things of sweets into the cart but gives her a very pointed warning, that she wouldn’t be risking cavities on this trip. Jada’s sweet tooth is unmatched and if left unchecked will cause more problems than it already had. 

Calum’s distraction seems to work well enough because when they reconvene with the rest of her family, it looks like most of the shopping is nearly done, if not done.  “We got the lemon cake!” Vicky cheers, holding onto the box mix. 

______________________________________________

“Tasha, if you don’t--” Jada huffs, pulling the eyeliner away from her face. 

“It’s just weird, I’m sorry!”

Calum hands over the small stack of folded up printer paper to Jada just as she starts to reach for it. She’d prepped it, along with the rest of the array, eyeshadow, blush, foundations, primers, brow pencils, concealer--damn near everything covers every inch of the dining room table. “Thanks, babe.” She fans at Tasha’s face to keep the tears from running and ruining anything. 

“You’re welcome,” he returns and then glances back down at his phone after it buzzes. It’s a text in the groupchat, but it’s not pressing. So he brings his gaze back up to Jada, still fanning over Tasha’s face. The choir’s performance isn’t for another couple hours, but they started the hair and makeup adventure early in the day to make sure that Tasha had plenty of time to still get dressed and get to the school early. 

“It’s always my waterline,” Tasha mutters. 

Jada’s careful as she goes back in to finish. And Calum watches the way she buffs brushes and taps excess powder. It’s a dance or at least that’s the way he sees it, as she blends out colors or gently flicks her wrist to get the stroke of the eyebrow shape just right. He doesn’t hear the music or the timing, but Jada does. 

“Can I see?” Tasha asks once the last bit of the setting spray settles into her skin. 

“Not until your hair is done,” is Jada’s quick reply as she starts pulling the duck clips holding the curls in place. Hair tumbles down and Jada’s quick to separate and fluff as necessary. 

Tasha’s bangs fall just over one eye, but the curls hang loosely on her pressed hair. Destini, who ventures pass the dining room table on her way to get a snack, stops for a second. “Well, well, well,” she teases, a wide grin on her face, hands settling onto her waist. 

“Destini, keep on,” Tasha returns with a laugh. 

“You look good, sis!”

Satisfied with the lay of the last curl and pinning the last star shaped hair accessory into place, Jada digs up the mirror buried under pins and brushes. “What do you think?” she asks. 

There’s a beat and Calum watches as Tasha’s stunned expression turns into a grin, and she squeals. “Oh my god!” She spins around, wrapping Jada up in a hug. “Thank you!”

“Of course. Anytime,” Jada replies softly. 

“Ma! Look!” Tasha shouts up the steps. 

Calum stands from his seat at the table. “She looks amazing.”

“I can do a little something something,” Jada returns. The two of them are silent as they clean. Calum moves the dirty makeup brushes off the side while Jada wraps up the cords to the straightener and curling iron. And it’s somehow harmonious as they slide past each other around the dining room table. 

“I’m holding three palettes and I can’t seem to find where your bag went,” Calum chuckles. And when he turns to the right, he spots Vicky with the bag in her lap. “I would ask what you’re doing, Vicky, but I have a feeling I already know.” She grins. But allows him to place the palettes into the bag. The rest of the clean-up is quick and relatively painless. 

“Ma! Dad! I’m dropping Tasha off to the school early. I’ll be back soon.” It’s Serenity and just beneath it he can hear Jada, Destini, and Vicky talking too. Calum hadn’t even heard Paul today, though he can’t be faulted there was plenty of noise from the girls. And though at moments, Calum’s not sure how anyone can survive living with this many siblings, part of him wants it. A big family--at least in theory. In practice, he’s sure he’ll really only want two and maybe three kids. 

“Let’s get those outfits on, ladies,” Jada states cutting above the internal hum. Destini and Vicky walk in front of her, headed to the stairs and Calum watches her go. Knowing she’ll undoubtedly get sucked into helping them finalize their outfits. Destini won’t have much to change. But Vicky will have a thousand options to consider.

Is this what he could potentially be looking forward to? A house, maybe not as full as this one, with kids of his own, in line with Jada as they get ready for something or another and Calum has helped press and pin hair or taken twists down to redo them without the frizz. And he knows that one of them should get ready first to help entertain the lot while the other is the last one to get ready. 

“You look starstruck there, Calum. And I know I’m a cool man, myself, but you’re the rockstar,” Paul teases, stopping just a couple feet in front of Calum. 

“Oh, um, just thinking,” Calum returns. But there's a knowing smile as Paul finishes his venture to the kitchen. 

Right as Calum heads up the steps to get ready for the performance himself--requested from Jada that he could not show up in a t-shirt and flannel, though it’s everything he wants to show up in--, Destini and Vicky stand right outside their door. Vicky in a dress, green and silver for the festivities and Destini in dress pants and a glittery blue blouse. “Lookin’ good, ladies,” he smiles at them. 

“Keep him around. I like him,” Vicky states to Jada. 

“The current plan is to do just that. Alright, I’ll be down in 30. Please keep all shirts, skirts, or your bottoms of choice clean,” Jada states, watching the duo bounce downstairs. When she glances up to Calum, she notices the half smirk on his face. And it’s not butterflies that light her stomach--not a nervousness by the look. It’s something more like a warmth--feeling of being wrapped up in a blanket on a cold night. She’s happy. As plain and as simple as that. She’s happy with Calum. She can imagine a whole life with him--three kids, two dogs, baking snickerdoodles for the school’s bake sale and fighting with another mother over who’s recipe is better. 

And sure it all sounds silly in some ways. She’s 28, settling into her career in SEO marketing--something she had mostly fallen into after graduating with her Bachelor’s degree and following the start-up companies littering the LA area. She was late to the college game after working 6 years in retail in the surrounding area to help with finances at home and saving up for college in the first part. There was nothing glamorous about that life. She would be the first to admit that, but that didn’t stop her from desiring it. And there was nothing right now that was stopping her from desiring it with Calum either. 

“Are you sure I can’t wear a t-shirt?” Calum asks. It’s mostly in jest. He knows her family takes these events seriously and he would never be the one to disgrace such a tradition. But he also likes to see Jada sweat. 

“Calum, I swear. I ain’t asking you to put on a suit. But if you ruin Tasha’s pictures in her senior year performance, she will curse you. And I won’t have much of a mind to stop her.”

He wraps Jada into a hug, encasing her waist with his arms. “I won’t dare ruin her photos. I just like to see your feathers ruffled.”

It’s a huff and an eye roll that returns his comments, but when Calum goes in for a kiss, Jada doesn’t reject him. “Besides,” Calum adds in a whisper, lips brushing over hers. “I specifically brought those plaid pants you love.”

“You’re killing me,” she laughs in an exhale, flashing back to their first meeting. 

Jada’s college career wasn’t particularly glamorous as she spent a lot of time in class, studying, or working. And over the four year stretch, she worked as a bartender at a few clubs. One in particular was high end, but owned by the same management as the two other ones she’d worked at previously. The owners did crawls of their own bars to make sure it was all proper but on one such visit, the owners came on a night that Jada was working. They’d ask the manager about her and wanted her to work a few private events at the higher end bar. It was double pay and Jada didn’t have enough time to blink before she was saying yes.

It just so happened that one of the private events she agreed to work was a release party for Calum and the rest of the band. Given the crowd, Jada wasn’t trying to intercept who’s album was releasing, she only needed to serve drinks and keep any rowdy participants in line. But it had seemed that even with her head down attitude to work, she’d still managed to catch the attention of someone. She noticed something was happening, when Calum--who was nameless at the time besides the affectionate Plaid Pants that she and a couple other bartenders had labeled him as--continued to come by the bar. He’d order something occasionally, but other times he’d just pass by, as if trying to signal something. But it clearly wasn’t landing until he leaned into the bar and introduced himself to Jada. 

Jada opens her eyes, to find Calum still embracing her, nose gently bumping over hers. “But thank you, I think I’d be happy to be murdered by such an item of clothing on your ass.” They share another kiss, mostly gentle if the hands squeezing at waists aren’t counted. The touches give away everything that the kiss doesn’t--a deeper desire to feel flesh of each other, but knowing right now might not be the best time to give in to such longing. 

Jada places her hands on Calum’s chest, feeling his hands sliding to her ass. “You are dangerous, but we can’t be late.”

With a heavy exhale, Calum rests his forehead against hers. “Right, right. But I wish we could be.”

“I am well aware of how much you wish that,” Jada teases, but pushes her hips into his crotch with a wink. The erection is beyond evident and Calum can only laugh as she walks backwards into the bedroom. “And you’re going to hate the dress I brought with me for tonight.”

Calum groans as he steps through the threshold, closing the door softly behind him. He doesn’t even want to attempt to conjure up any idea of what she’s brought because he knows his imagination won’t do her any justice. “At least tell me there’s some imagination to be spared by the dress.”

“There’s a little bit. There’s a little bit, love.”

“You’re the one asking for trouble,” Calum returns as he finds his black t-shirt. Technically, it violates the rule Jada made but he knows it’ll work well enough especially when he adds the chain. 

“I’m always asking for trouble.” The sentence is punctuated by a slap to his ass. Still bent over to grab something from his bag, he watches Jada shuffle to her side of the room. 

“You better be glad I like it, darlin’.” 

But what he loves even more is when he turns to the sound of his name and Jada’s holding her hair out of the way for him to zip up the dress. It’s navy blue with dots of silver in it--almost like stars or a galaxy splattered all over the dress. He finishes getting his bracelet hooked around his wrist and drags the pads of his fingers over her spine. She forfeited a bra so the entire area is exposed to him and it’s all too enticing to press into her skin. 

“That is not my zipper,” she laughs, but a bit of a shudder stutters her words. 

Calum obeys the original command, and drags the zipper up, encasing her fully into the garment. Her expressed gratitude is soft, and maybe it’s just the fact that Calum’s so enwrapped watching her walk over to the jewelry she laid out early and the way her hips stretch out the material of the dress. It’s just short enough that her walk hikes it up, but long enough that even it still keeps just enough hidden away. They can’t be late, but he really, really would love to push the boundaries on how late they actually can be. He knows he promised Tasha he wouldn’t miss a second and that’s the only thread keeping him back. 

“I can feel you staring,” Jada laughs, both earrings hooked into the pierced hole. 

“Then you also can feel what else I wish I could do right now.”

“I know, I know.” As she says it, she feels his presence closing in. There’s no mirror, but she knows the gaze. The way his eyes are casted downwards, the lick of his lips, the hitch in his breath. And when hands slide across her waist and kisses decorate her neck, Jada knows. She knows just how much she wants to give into him and how much he wants to give into her. So she lets him, resting backward into his chest and bringing an arm up to hold onto his neck, Jada sighs into the kisses he paints into her skin. 

Calum inhales deeply as the perfume invades his nostrils. “Can we spare five minutes?”

“If I spare you five, we’re going to need twenty.”

His hum is interrupted by a small tuft of laughter. “True.” Five minutes isn’t nearly enough time for what he wants to do to her. But he trails a hand up, over the contour of her breast and lightly holds onto her throat. There’s no real pressure, just a resting spot for him and then he continues up after a beat to her jaw to tilt her head back even more. 

Her lashes look too long to be real in the moment before she blinks open her eyes and dark brown irises are staring back up at him. “Love you,” she whispers. 

“I love you,” Calum exhales. He loves her with more than exists in the tips of his fingers as a summation of the great surface area of every ounce of his being. He loves her like chocolate melts in a pocket. It’s slow at first. You think you’re going to keep an eye on it, that you know just how fast it can melt and you’ll catch it. But the truth of the matter is that it sneaks up. You’ll wander off to do something else and then by the time you come back to it, it’s everywhere. Soaked into every fiber of whatever clothing it was left in. 

And that’s how he fell in love with her--putting her just in one corner of his life, believing that he could contain her to that, that he wouldn’t let his defense down and she’d get in, but when he turned away and turned back, she was everywhere. Jada was every fucking where, in the fabric of his lyrics and book recommendations. She was in his cabinets separating glasses from mungs from cups and in the sticky notes she left on his fridge or on the bathroom mirror. Jada was in his fucking socks because sometimes, when Calum found a hole wearing in a beloved pair that he refused to throw away until they became unsalvagable, she’d stitch different shapes to fix the holes. The action rendered everything keepable--he told himself he’d stash them all into a box and show their kids one day. Tell them not to throw out anything their mother patched for them because they’d miss it when it was gone. 

“Everything okay, love?” Jada’s quick to spin in the embrace. Her hands tenderly cup his cheeks. 

And it’s only then that Calum can register the tears that have started to form. He nods, a bit of smile forming on his face. “I’m okay. Sorry.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“It’s nothing to worry about.”

Her eyebrow arches. A silent question that asks him not to bullshit her. Because it’s everything like Calum to be swimming in emotion and never articulate it in the midst of the wave--only after. And while she couldn’t always fault the action, it still worried her. Still made her feel shut out sometimes. Calum holds her cheeks in return, careful just in case she’s put on any makeup. 

“I am not hiding anything, Jada. I swear it.” And he pauses. “Well, not anything detrimental.”

That’s all she’s going to get. For right now at least. So she nods, stretching just a little to kiss him. Her thumbs are quick to rub over his lips though. “So I don’t leave gloss behind.”

“If it’s the one with vitamin E, you might as well leave it. I love that stuff.”

“I’ll bring it with me just in case,” she teases. 

As Calum and Jada descend the stairs, dressed, Paul’s already at the foot of the stairs. “I was just about to call for y’all.”

“My zipper was being finicky,” Jada lies and kisses his cheek once she’s on level ground. “As the eldest, I have to be snatched for the gods and for Tasha’s sake.”

Paul chuckles. “She’d make sure of it.” Roslyn, Paul, Destini, and Vicky ride in one car. Serenity takes hers and Jada drives Calum’s vehicle. Though he again opens the door for her. 

The school looks less like a school than Calum could ever conjure the image of one to look like. But the parking lot appears to be packed and growing. It’s his first time seeing Tasha perform. 2018’s Christmas was still too early to claim as a Christmas as a couple. But 2019 was more solid, even with the challenges. Jada had plans to see her family and Calum had made plans well in advance to as well, so they agreed they’d go to the respective homes. But he heard about the way the choir was the crowd drawer. From what he can see right now, as they walk up to the doors, Jada had not lied about it being a large crowd. 

Outside the auditorium, Calum spots tables selling bouquets. “At intermission, remind me to get Tasha a bouquet,” he whispers to Jada. 

She pauses in her stride, forcing Calum to stop too as he’s holding onto her hand. “They sell fast. C’mon.” He nods and Jada calls for Destini to hold two seats for them.

 The line’s long. It’s clear the entire town adores this performance and makes sure that they are certain to witness it. In the line, he can hear an elderly couple talking about how they refuse to miss a year of the Christmas performance. Calum’s worried they’re going to miss Tasha’s opening solo--his promise. And now he’s glad Jada kept firm about if she granted him the five, it would be the world’s largest fuck up.

 They manage to secure a big and bright bouquet and have to scurry back inside. A tad more difficult thanks to the skinny heel of Jada’s pumps, but not impossible due the nights she spent walking the strip. The lights dim just as Paul’s hand is waving for them. Thankfully, their seats are right near the end and they only have to scoot by a couple. Calum takes the end seat next to the couple. After the director of the program introduces the schedule and provides a little bit of background, the curtain lifts and in front of the risers is Tasha. Jada squeezes his knee and he kisses the top of her head. 

Tasha’s solo nearly brings the house down. Her ending note rings out around them and for a few seconds, Calum can do nothing but sit stunned. The cheer erupts, people standing around him and he’s careful of the bouquet to stand as well and cheer along with them. “You did not tell me your sister could sing like that,” Calum says to Jada close to her ear. 

“The girls’ got lungs enough to come for your money, Hood.”

“And she can have it,” Calum laughs. 

The younger singers perform immediately after. Different reindeer antler styles decorate their heads, shy as they go, but endearing all the same. Calum clutches his chest after they leave the stage and Jada laughs, leaning into his arm. “They were so cute!” he whispers. 

“Very cute. My baby fever just spiked.”

The songs continue on, ones about Rudoloph and Sleigh Rides, all the way to ones about wishing for snow. As the closing performance comes to an end, the auditorium roars with their applause. The walls echo and bounce back every whistle and yawp sent its way. The sound is infectious, finding its way deep into their chest and shaking their bones. But once the curtains close, Jada spins to Calum. “Mission: get a great spot for photos. You’re the front man.”

“I am not ready for such responsibility,” Calum returns, but shuffles out behind the couple at the end. 

“Give me the bouquet. Hold my empty hand. Grab Vicky’s hand, and stay agile. It’s going to get rough.” Calum steps behind once in the aisle and hands over the bouquet. Though he’s yet to see this side of their family outings, he’s not shocked at the system. When someone reaches for his left hand, he glances back to see Vicky and she’s already reaching back for Destini’s. Oh, this is a tried and true system, he gathers. Jada grasps his right hand and all he can do is keep up. There’s no time for questions. 

They weave through the huddled mass of other families and visitors. A few quiet ‘excuse me’s get thrown out. But for the most part, the second Jada spies a pocket, she goes for it and the rest of them slip through with shy smiles as they go. Jada’s surveying as she walks, head glancing left and right. But soon they break free of the auditorium and into the hallway. “Right,” Jada calls back and Calum starts to the right unsure of what he’s supposed to do with that information. 

They veer to the side and once Jada’s satisfied with the pocket, she stops. “Who’s got their phone?” Jada asks. Her’s is in her purse, but she’s got hands full. 

Roslyn pulls up the rear and waves her phone. “Where are we?”

“Next to the bouquet stand. Close to the…” Jada pauses, looking over Calum’s shoulder, easy to do with her heels. “Men’s bathroom.”

“Got it.”

“That was the most tactical exit, I’ve ever seen,” Calum jokes. “And I’ve been escorted through festivals.”

“Nothing like a Miller exit,” Vicky teases. “We got it down to a science.”

“You speak like you have experience.’

“I’ve led a Miller exit once or twice in my short life,” she boasts. 

“Literally twice,” Destini tacks on. 

“You’ve only done three,” is Vicky’s rebuttal.

“And soon both of you will have so many you won’t be able to count,” Paul cuts in. “Now, let’s take a 5.” Both girls nod and Calum would ask what it means to take five, but it’s interrupted by the gushing of Roslyn. Calum spins to find Tasha walking up to them. Her grin is wide and she gives the one friend she’s walking with one last hug before scurrying up to the group. Her heels click with the movement. 

Roslyn gets to her first, a giant hug encasing her daughter. “You did so good, baby!” 

The rest of the family gets hugs in first and when she looks up to ask Calum a question about her performance, a giant bouquet of red roses stares up at her. “OH. Are-are these for me?”

Calum nods, holding them out for her. “Yeah, they are. You were fucking incredible.”

“Thanks, Calum. I-I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“The bar is now so high,” she teases, looking to Jada. “You’ve made it impossible for, like any other guy now with Calum.”

“Good--the bar should be high. Now, who’s getting pictures with you first?” Jada grins, whipping out her phone from her purse. 

The rotation goes smoothly. The first ones are just of Tasha and her bouquet, then her, Roslyn, and Paul, then individuals with each of her sisters. It seems to be a silent language as one person steps up next Tasha and then once they’re picture is snapped, they step off to the side. But he assumes this kind of efficiency comes with time. 

Tasha grins, taking the phone from Jada. “One with you and Calum.”

“We didn’t just absolutely deliver an Aretha Franklin-esque performance. You did,” Jada returns. 

“For memories,” comes Tasha’s rebuttal.

Calum steps into the frame. “C’mon, love. It is what she wants.” He holds out his hand for Jada and she obliges, taking it. 

“Prom pose,” Tasha directs and Jada turns in front of Calum. His hands settle on her waist. There’s no flash to let them know, but Tasha’s face says it all once the picture’s been snapped. “Calum, you look like you’re in pain.”

“I’m not exactly fond of photos,” he answers honestly. 

“But you do like my sister, right?”

“More than like,” he returns and mostly means for it to be quiet and for Jada, but he knows Destini caught it when there’s fake gagging behind him. 

Jada faces him at the confession and smooths her hand over the chest of his t-shirt. “Wanna say that to my face, stud muffin?”

At the nickname, Calum laughs, pulling her into his chest, not quite thinking about the setting they’re in. “Oh do not call me that. Please spare me.”

“There we go!” Tasha calls out. “Now we just need a family photo.”

Calum kisses the end of Jada’s nose, but reaches out for the phone. “I can take it.”

“Uh, and how do you think you’re going to take it when you’re in it?” Tasha returns, spinning to face him again. She’d turned previously to find someone who might be free to snap a photo of them. 

“I thought--you said family.”

“Yeah, and by the way you’re looking at my sister, you are family.” Tasha taps on the shoulder of an older woman. “I’m sorry. But do you mind just snapping a quick photo of me and my family?”

“‘Course not, sweetheart.” The woman takes the phone and waves for everyone to bunch in. But Calum’s still reeling from Tasha’s statement. By the way you’re looking at my sister, you are family. Was it that obvious to everyone else? Was he just playing a game that was unnecessary? And not that this was a game, but he didn’t think everyone else saw it. The way he could feel himself falling more and more in love with Jada--the chocolate now soaking into the structure of his bones. He manages a smile just as the woman counts down in front of them. Tasha thanks her and looks over the photos. She sends the ones she likes to the family group chat for everyone to save if they should choose to. 

“Can we go out for dinner?” Tasha asks. She knows there’s lots of leftovers, but she wants something more than just the family dinner after such a performance. . 

“I’ll take you out after we eat at home,” Serenity jumps in. “Paint the town red.”

“She’s only eighteen,” Roslyn returns. But it’s too late, Serenity and Tasha are already giggling into each other and pushing forward to the entrance of the school. 

“Do you want to go out with Serenity and Tasha?” Jada asks. Calum, reflexively wrapping his fingers around Jada’s, doesn’t say much. He doesn’t say anything at all. No, it couldn’t be that obvious. Tasha just liked to tease like that, he thought. She was like Jada--she’d use humor to say what she really wanted to say. 

“Baby?” Jada tries again and then pauses when she gets no response. Calum gets one extra step ahead of her and stops when there’s no motion behind him. “Calum?”

“Yeah? Yes?” he returns, catching onto his name. 

“Are you okay? Back at the house and now--I’m worried.”

He takes the step back up onto the curb of the school. Jada’s not necessarily a nagger. She doesn’t keep asking, but she doesn’t forget. It was something like a catalog--she kept it all with her even when it was no good to her. And she’d hold and hold until the thing would pop, when she could no longer hold onto the thing anymore. There’s only so much time he’d have before she pops. 

“Does everyone see it?”

“See what, Calum? You’re scaring me.” Jada didn’t want to admit that she was scared. The relationship had been going well. They met every challenge as best they could and then what they had didn’t seem to perfectly work, they continued to tackle it head on. But only two years of officially dating and the eight months or so where they were still trying to understand what exactly was going on, felt too fast--how could Jada be imagining marrying Calum? How could she be picturing children? She hardly had a career in the grand scheme of things. She had just moved in six months ago. There was no way. No way could she have imagined all those things in such a short period of time. But it felt so right and if Calum wasn’t picturing that--why would he be doing anything of this after this point and time?

“No, no,” he steps in closer. “It’s nothing bad, love. I promise. God, I promise it’s not bad.”

Jada’s heart thunders in her chest. “Then-then what is it? Does everyone see what?”

“You’re like--” he can’t say chocolate. It’ll sound crazy. “Does everyone see how crazy in love I am with you? Because I really thought I was great at hiding it, but I mean, even your sister is calling me family and I just can’t help--is that--” Is he really going to ask it like this? He’d planned for something more, better. A cute proposal in their backyard with Duke holding the ring on his collar. 

“Is that, what?”

“Is that something you want? To be a family? Married? With me?” Married--what a funny word. He couldn’t believe he was uttering it to her like this on the steps of a fucking high school, but here he was.

Jada’s whole face lights up. And it should be more of a shock to Calum’s system. But only relief floods him--he can see the ‘yes’ forming on her lips before she speaks. The way she nods her head even though he’s cupping her cheeks. “Yes, it’s something I want. With you.”

“With me?” Calum questions again.

“Yes, with you, silly.”

And he’s kissing her. Because there’s no one else he can picture growing old with. Sure there were fears--would he fuck it all up and somehow end up repeating the fate of his parents? But the thrill of getting it right fueled him. It’s Jada saying yes to him. The one person who he knew down to his bones wouldn’t give up on him. And quite possibly, it’s just his own hope and faith, but something in his gut tells him, she wouldn’t. Not without good reason at the very least and it isn’t his intention to ever give her a reason-good or otherwise- either. 

Calum’s the first to pull back from the kiss. “Please know that this isn’t--like, I want to propose properly,” he sighs, breathing heavily from the excitement. “A ring. Duke, the whole shebang.”

“Or this could be you proposing properly,” Jada laughs. “Besides, we’re in Vegas. Do you think anything is ever proper here?”

“Your family would literally kill me,” he laughs in return. “I’d much prefer to live.”

“What my family never knows won’t hurt them. But,” Jada starts and then pauses to give Calum another kiss, “all I’m saying is there’s no faster place to get married than Vegas.”

Calum can’t help but chuckle. Jada’s not impatient, but she’s not traditional on a lot of things and Calum does prefer to keep things more secretive. “Just no Elvis impersonators and I think I could be sold.”

Jada takes a small step back. “Are--as much as I’m okay with getting married in a day, I know things are different for you. So please know that I’m okay with waiting. I just--”

“Hey, hey, now. No going into a tizzy. We’re going to be okay.”

“No going into a tizzy,” Jada repeats with a nod. 

“We don’t have to decide right now. We should sleep on it, don’t you think? Have a proper conversation.”

“You’re right, you’re right. I just--I’m excited.” And as she says it, she wraps her arms around Calum’s waist. “I’m relieved too. That we’re at least on the same page.”

“It is a good thing. But tomorrow, let’s talk.”

“Tomorrow,” Jada agrees and the two of them share one more kiss before stepping down off the curb and towards the car. “Did you want to go out tonight? Tasha’s itching and Serenity’s going with her.”

“Tasha’s only eighteen, so I have a feeling her options are limited.”

“She’s most likely going to wind up at a hookah lounge. She’s not quite ready for Little Darlings,” Jada says with a small bit of laughter and Calum knows. He’s maybe shocked that Jada’s aware. Though, he really ought not to be. 

“We could go--” he starts but Jada’s laughter quickly cuts him off. “What? Why are you laughing?”

“Just the thought of us two minutes go basically agreeing that we want to marry each other and immediately following that conversation with one about going to one of the most famous nude clubs in Vegas.”

“Okay, but nowhere near or in that sentence am I hearing the phrase, ‘I don’t want to go to a nude club.’ So I think it’s safe to say that our agreement to marriage isn’t about to fall apart.” He opens the door for Jada and helps her into the truck. 

“But it’s only us that could have that conversation.”

“So, is it a yes or a no?”

“Bubs, I love you. But I can assure you with every ounce of my being there are better clubs for us to visit.”

“And how can you be so sure of that?”

“Because I’ve been to better ones. But we can’t go tonight if we’re going with Tasha and Serenity.”

“I think I’m more intrigued by these better clubs you’ve been to if I’m honest.”

“Well, hop in, good lookin’. There’s the night of your life that awaits you.” The drive back to the house is quick and mostly quiet. The radio plays softly and when they enter the house, the laughter wraps them up. 

Calum starts to regrets his second plate when he notices Jada come back down the stairs with her platform thigh high boots on. He didn’t really intend to go in for that many seconds. But Roslyn was huffing about how she was so close to clearing one dish of deviled eggs that he felt obliged to help such a predicament. And maybe he helped himself to more than just the eggs when he got up because there were corn muffins still staring up at him. And he couldn’t resist those either. 

“Uh oh, he looks down for the count,” Jada teases as she blots over Tasha’s face in preparation for their departure. “I think it might just be you and Serenity tonight.”

“Oh, but I really wanted to hang with you tonight,” Tasha states. 

“Go. Save yourself. Have fun,” Calum mutters reclining into the cushion of the couch. He is absolutely not moving anytime soon, not when he shuts his eyes. “I--I overdid it on plate two.”

“You’re sure you’re going to be okay? I was supposed to show you around.”

“I wouldn’t even make it to the first club,” Calum returns. “Next time, love.”

 A kiss is pressed into his cheek before one lands on his lips. “I’ll text you when we get there and when we’re leaving.”

“Thank you. Sorry about this.”

“Oh, no need to apologize. The itis catches everyone at some point. Just like you said, next time I can show you some clubs.” He hums, a bit of a nod rocking his head and then the door opens and closes from his left. 

Calum anticipates staying on the couch for a little bit. He still wants to help clean up the kitchen, but the longer he stays seated the closer and closer sleep feels. A losing game to play, Calum’s sure. But he plays it anyway. And it’s only a particularly harsh clink that forces him upright. 

“He lives,” Vicky giggles.

“Barely,” Calum returns before pushing off the sofa. Almost all of the dishes have been collected and washed and he mentally curses himself for staying on that sofa after feeling the first tug of sleep. “Need anymore help?”

“Oh, no, baby. We’re good. Thank you,” Roslyn returns. “The second you sat down after your second plate, it was all over.”

“You’d think I’d learn my lesson after the last time.”

“We never do,” Roslyn laughs, placing the new clean pot onto the rack.

“Calum! Your phone’s buzzing! It’s Jada!” He looks to the living room, to spot Vicky holding up his phone. 

“I’ll be right back,” he tells Roslyn and half jogs to get it. “Thank you, Vicky.”

“Uh huh, you’re welcome.”

“You are so nosey!” Destini returns, curling up into the corner of the couch with her book in front of her. 

“Jada said she’d text him when they got there! And her name was just on the screen.”

As Calum reads the text, sure enough Jada confirms their safe arrival, he smiles a bit. He’s glad that Jada can spend time with her sisters, like she wanted. “Thanks for the heads up, Vicky.” 

The house sits a bit more quietly with the kitchen clean and the dishes put away, TV playing and slowly people get ready for bed. Calum steps out of the bedroom to rejoin the current movie marathon that Vicky spontaneously decides to host. But just as he checks the time on his phone and for any texts from Jada, he can hear something rattling down the hallway. Destini comes out of her shared room with a blue bag in her hands. 

She pauses when she notices Calum watching her. “Well, this was going to be an ambush. But I’ve heard that you paint your nails sometimes or at least get them done sometimes.”

It’s the serious tone that she has that causes Calum to crack, giggling as he looks back to the bag. “And if I do?”

“I’m your gal,” Destini states proudly. “I’ve got black, red, green, blue, purple, orange, yellow, green and I have different shades inside those colors too. I have holo toppers. Ma doesn’t like it when I use the chrome powders too much because they can get a little messy. But for you, I think she can make an exception to the rule. I can’t have gel yet. But next year after I turn sixteen, I’m supposed to be able to buy them and the lamp so I can do gel manicures.”

“Lead the way into your salon,” Calum states but does reach out for the bag to carry it for her. 

“A perfect gentleman. Right this way.” They head down the stairs, through the living room and back to the kitchen table. Destini grabs the roll of paper towel from the counter and he turns on the light. 

“Can I look through your colors?”

“Yep!” Destini returns, dragging over a smaller trash can. 

It’s almost unending as he pulls out the bottles. Some icy blues, bright reds, and burgundy greets him. He keeps going and finds dark greens too alongside some shades of sage as well. Glitter polish peek out and he pulls out small containers of powders--the chrome he figures. By the time he gets all the bottles pulled out, Destini is fully set up opposite of him with stickers and other nail accessories too, bowls, cuticle pusher, and oils. “How long have you been collecting all this?”

“Oh I want to get my license and work at my auntie’s shop,” Destini returns. “I practice on my sisters and there’s some stuff like extensions that I still need to learn. I’ve done one gel tip extension set. But I still need a lot of practice.”

Calum nods, torn between a blue and the black. “Well,” he says, putting his hands onto the towel in front of her. “I am more than happy to be live practice.”

“Any color in particular?”

Calum shakes his head. “Nah. I trust you.”

“Can you do me next?” Vicky asks, pulling up to the table as well. Whatever movie she’s picked is clearly now forgotten for now at least. He’s sure they’ll return to those after this detour. 

Destini nods. “Sure. Let me just get his colors and then you can choose.” Destini pulls out a black and a purple polish alongside a purple chrome powder. Calum watches her assemble all her necessities and settles in. He makes sure to turn his phone face up, so he can see anything that comes in and not interrupt her work. 

The night doesn’t even feel that long, and maybe it’s because the music has rattled their bodies in ways that makes the silence feel like time is slowing down again. Jada checks her phone to see it’s nearing midnight. Serenity and Tasha walk ahead of her back to Serenity’s car. Calum had responded to her initial text about making it to the strip, but the thread sat silent between them. We’re on our way back. 

“Jada Renee! Come move your slow ass,” Serenity shouts. 

“Serenity Taylor!” Jada hollers back, but starts back up to catch up. It’s early in the night if any of them are honest. But they know with Christmas on the horizon and only being a couple days out, they need not push the boundaries of their mother’s patience. So they call it an early night. 

The living room lights are still visible from the windows as Jada walks up to the house and she’s shocked that anyone would even still be downstairs. But as the door creaks open and the house opens up to the three of them, it’s quite clear that the bodies are downstairs but everyone’s asleep. Calum sits on the far end of the couch, head dropped into the couch cushions. Next to him are Destini and Vicky, both sprawled out of the cushions. Vicky’s tucked into his side and Destini rests her head on the arm of the couch nearest to the door. Jada tiptoes into the house and Serenity and Tasha are as quiet as they can be behind her in their heels. 

“We’ll take them,” Tasha whispers, pointing over Destini and Vicky. Jada nods and walks over to Calum. The two youngest barely wake enough to stand but with Serenity and Tasha supporting their weight, all four of them make it up the stairs. 

Calum wakes, right as Jada goes to reach out and stroke his cheek. There’s a moment where they both freeze, hoping not to startle the other. Then Calum smiles, taking her outstretched hand and tugging her forward. “Hey, baby.”

“Hi, love. I see you hung tough with the party animals.” Something black catches her eyes so she looks down at his hands. Every finger, minus the ring finger, is painted black. His ring finger sports something that looks a little blue, a little green, and purple--almost shifting through the spectrum. She wonders if it has chrome on it. 

“Destini,” Calum answers, watching her gaze. “She did really well.”

“Yeah, last I heard it was her latest career path of choice. Ma’s not too happy about it, but if it’s what Destini wants, she ain’t gonna have much choice in the matter. C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

Calum hooks his hand onto one of Jada’s thighs, right on the cusps of the top of the boot and her actual flesh, and pulls her into his lap. “Tell me about your night first.”

“I smell like smoke, I’m sorry.”

“You say that to the smoker in this relationship.”

“That is true. We just went to the hookah lounge like I told you and we walked the strip a little. Not too many places will let Tasha in, but she had fun, I think. Once she turns 21, there’s plenty of damage we can do together.”

Calum chuckles, thumb stroking at Jada’s inner thigh. A bit of her lace is lifting and he runs a finger over it. “You brought your glue right?”

“I’m probably going to take this down tomorrow. See if I can sucker my mom into washing my hair for me.” 

He nods. “When Tasha turns 21 and the three of you can legally terrorize Vegas, I’ll make sure I give the city a call as a heads up.”

“We’re not that bad.”

“Bad enough,” Calum states, kissing her cheek. 

“What about you? How was your night?”

“Mellow. It was nice. Vicky headed movie night and Destini painted nails. Roslyn and Paul called it a night pretty early on; I think at some point between the first and second movie. And as you can see, the three party animals didn’t make it past 11 or so. I think I was the last one to fall asleep.”

“Sounds lovely,” Jada returns, running the pads of her fingers over his forearms. “The entire time we were out Tasha gushed her heart out about the flowers you bought her.”

Calum’s not sure how to respond. Because part of it is simple courtesy. But the other part is a bit of pride. He always wanted to treat not just Jada right, but her sisters right too. There was no way to Jada that didn’t involve her sisters. “I’m glad she likes them.”

“I can’t wait to marry you. And not like I can’t. But I think that’s a day that I’ll cherish deeply.”

“And to think, you wanted it to be tonight.”

“It can be tomorrow for all I care.”

“We’ll just have to see come tomorrow. But I do want to run it by Roslyn and Paul first. It’s important to me that they’re on board too.”

Jada nods, turning her head to look at Calum. His gaze is casted down, brows pulled together. She knows that look.  “What are you thinking about?”

“That I want to call my mum tonight and figure out what size ring you wear.”

“I can’t break Joy’s heart.” It’s mostly an internal thought meant to be no louder than a whisper. 

But in the silence and closeness that they sit, Calum hears it. “You’re not going to break her heart. She adores you. So does Dad and Mali.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to take anything away from them.”

“Which is why we’ll talk to her. It’s early in Australia. We’ll get it all straightened out.” It’s a nod that he gets in return. “No going into a tizzy, remember?”

With an exhaled tuft of laughter, Jada nods again. “I know, no going into a tizzy.”

Calum plants a kiss to her cheek and taps her thigh. “C’mon. Let’s get you a shower and I’ll call Mum.”

They clean up the downstairs and turn off the lights as they go. Jada settles onto the edge of the bed to peel out of the boots and Calum gathers her towel and washcloth. He pauses at her pajamas. “Christmas PJ’s or your blue ones?”

“Blue ones--we save Christmas ones for Christmas Eve. Also, I am stone cold sober. You don’t have to do all this.”

“I know,” Calum states and then kisses her temple. “Wanted to.”

Jada spies the lacy pink underwear neatly settled onto the top of her pile. “And I can see why.”

“They look good on you,” Calum defends. 

“And off me too, I’m assuming,” Jada returns, recalling all the times he’s peeled her out of them. Calum laughs as she leaves to go to the bathroom.

 The FaceTime call rings, a blurry screen greeting Calum as he reclines into the pillows and bedframe. He’s hoping it’s not too early for a call. But he needs to let her know. It rings for a moment longer and then finally connects. His mother smiles. “Hey. Let me look at you,” she greets. 

“Hi, Mum. How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you? Is that Jada’s room?”

Calum nods, flipping the screen and showing off the walls. “Yeah, it is. Today was Tasha’s choir performance. So we did that. Then Tasha, Jada and Serenity went to the strip. I stayed back and Destini did my nails,” he flips the camera back around to show her Destini’s work. 

“Oh, those look great.”

“Yeah, she did really well.”

“What’s the rest of the week looking like?”

“Jada and I are taking Destini and Vicky out on Sunday after Christmas.” He pauses. Because truth be told, depending on how the conversation tomorrow goes, who the hell knows what’s going to happen. “I-I called to talk to you about something, Mum.”

“Uh huh, now here we go. Okay, let me get my coffee first and then I’m all ears.” There’s a shuffle and Calum hears the glug of coffee into her mug of choice. She settles down into a chair, phone resting against something as she holds the mug in both hands. “Alright, what is that you want to talk about?”

He feels like a child again as his mother’s gaze pierces his through the screen. “So,” and there’s no other way to say it. He can’t preface with a first, or second, or third. “I--I wanna marry her, Mum. And I mean like, I’m not just saying it. I really want to marry her.”

Joy smiles, watching Calum. She can see it, in the way he can’t help but smile when he talks about her. “That’s wonderful. Does Jada know?”

“Yeah, we talked briefly today and have plans to talk more tomorrow. And I don’t know. It might not be well received if we get married now and have the spectacle later, ya know? I don’t want to alienate you or Dad.”

“Son, you have fallen faster and harder for Jada than I’ve ever seen you with anyone else. The only thing that would disappoint me is you not doing the things that make you happy. We can celebrate and do the spectacle at any time for you two. But do what’s right for you? You’ve always made choices that worked out. Doesn’t mean the lessons won’t be hard. But if you love her, they’ll be worth it.”

“I don’t want to fuck it up, ya know.”

“We’re always human, sweetheart. I know you’re afraid because of your father and I.” A silence settles--one that lets Joy know that she’s got the nail on the head. “What does your gut say?”

“That I do want to be with her. I want the whole run of it--kids, dogs. With her. And I know it won’t be easy. But I don’t want to imagine it with anyone.”

Joy catches the use of ‘want’. Calum could imagine something else--he had choices. And everyone did--every single person had choices to make. But he was choosing Jada. “Then you don’t imagine it with anyone else. Don’t choose anyone else.”

“You make it sound so simple, Mum. And we both know it’s harder than that.”

“Oh, I never said it would be easier. But this can be. This can be the easiest thing you do in your life right now.”

The question lingers and as the door creaks open, Jada gives a quick wave. He smiles and looks down to his phone. “What’s the hardest?”

“Keeping it--making the choice over and over and over again. But with the two of you, I believe.”

___________

It’s hard not to wake up early the next morning early. Between the hiss of something cooking downstairs and the muffled voices of the rooms surrounding, sleeping in seems like something impossible. But it’s not something Calum ever really intended to do. His phone buzzes in his hands--a message from his father. News is you’re looking at rings. 

Yeah, pops. You talked to Mum?

She called earlier. I figured you’d be sleep. But call me when you get a moment. 

Calum watches Jada, face pressed into the satin material of pillowcase. The noise must be normal for her--something that even her subconscious blocks out. And he figures she can be spared a few extra minutes in slumber. He slips out of the bed and slowly opens the door. In the hallway, he can hear Destini and Vicky’s voice from downstairs. Serenity and Tasha are still in the room next to them. 

“Hey!” His dad greets. 

“Hi Pops. How’s it going?”

“You sound like you just woke up. You doing alright?”

“Yeah, it’s,” Calum wipes across his screen. “It’s about 7:45 here. Still early.”

“And what in Christ's heavens are you doing up?”

“Ring shopping,” Calum answers sheepishly. “And I still need to ask her mom and stepdad.”

“Aye! My boy! I’m proud of ya son. Jada’s lovely.”

“Thanks, pops.”

“Well, I ain’t lookin’ to blether not without some pints at least. But I just want to pass along my congrats. We’ll have a party soon too, I hope.”

“Yeah, I’ll have more details soon. But I won’t forget you or Mum or Mali. I promise.”

“Aye, aye. I know you won’t. It’s the fame, I reckon. Trying to keep the noise level down?”

“Well, this really came up just yesterday. So we still gotta consider all our options.”

“And you ain’t got a ring? Boy!”

“I know, I know. But it’s all gonna work out.”

“For you I hope so.”

“A ring?” The shout comes from down the hall a little ways and when Calum looks to his left, he spots Serenity and Tasha right outside their door. Both with bonnets still on, but dressed clearly for the day. “Did we just hear what we heard?” Tasha asks. 

His father laughs. “Oh, have I ruined the news?”

“It’s her sisters, Pops. Can I call you back?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course! Talk to you later, son!” The call ends and Calum waves for them to settle and steps in closer. He’s not sure if they’re going to shout, but he’s praying to whatever gods that exist, they don’t. 

“I think we did,” Serenity returns. “Does Jada know?”

Calum nods. “I still need to ask Roslyn and Paul permission. It’s all happening kind of fast. But yeah, she knows.”

“Oh,” Tasha starts. 

“My,” Serenity continues and in unison, they say, “God.”

“After breakfast, you and I are going out, Cal.” Serenity says it with finality, as if there’s nothing Calum can do to refute it. And two days from Christmas, Calum’s not sure he’s going to have much luck. 

“I-Can we make it lunch?”

“Sure. But you will not have my sister with no basic ass ring. I absolutely refuse. Unless you want me dead and you dead too. Because if she kills me, I’m coming back to haunt somebody.”

“No, not in the slightest,” Calum states. Serenity descends first but Tasha lingers behind. “You tagging along?” he asks. He’s sure she will. 

“I-Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

She waves him back into her room and he stands along the wall. A spot between the start of her floating shelves and the door to the room. She looks down to the floor before looking back up to Calum. “This is like so stupid. But I just wanted to say thanks. For being you. And for the bouquet again.”

“You’re welcome Tasha. You really were phenomenal last night.”

“Thanks. But really, it means a lot. And Jada seems happy, like really happy for the first time in a long time. And you don't have to do all that you do--letting Destini do your nails or like dealing with the madness of all of us. Or even helping us with Sunday. I don’t know. I just wanted to say thanks.”

It’s obvious. It’s so fucking obvious and no matter how much Calum wanted to hide it he’d never be able too. But that doesn’t stop him from being speechless. “You don’t--really, I’m happy too. But thanks. For noticing.”

“So, when do you plan on talking to Ma and Dad?”

“I have a feeling I need to do it today. Like, as soon as I can. But tell me one thing. What are my chances of dying today?”

“Are y’all two married yet?”

Calum shakes his head no. “If it were up to Jada solely, the answer would be different.”

“Then I think the chances are low, but not zero.”

“I never think the chances hit that low.” 

Holding out her arm, Tasha nods for Calum to tag along. “C’mon. I can sweeten up Paul. I’m his favorite.”

Calum looks back to Jada’s bedroom and for a moment, wishes he could at least be there when she wakes. But he knows he needs to ask without Jada there. Hooking his arm through hers, he and Tasha trot down the steps. A conversation, which Calum has a suspicion he already knows the subject about, looks like it stops and Roslyn pauses at the stove, facing the two of them completely. 

“Tasha, can you take a look at the cinnamon rolls? They’re proofing. Good morning, Calum.”

“Good morning, Roslyn.” Yep, the secret’s not really a secret anymore. And even though, he can tell Roslyn is sizing him up, he can see the edge of a smile threatening her face. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Can you talk and cook?”

He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Serenity, let him man the pancakes.” 

She takes a step back and lets Calum take her spot. “I tried to warm her up. But she’s good,” she whispers as she turns to help Tasha. 

Calum waits for the bubbles on the pancake in the pan and then flips it. Roslyn turns over the sausage in her pan. “Is Paul still here?”

“Who’s calling my name?” Paul asks, stepping back into the house, bags in hand. “I got the orange juice, Ros.”

“Thank you, babe. Can you come here for a second?” she calls out. And it’s the swish of a plastic bag that let’s Calum know that Paul is closing in. 

“Mornin’ Calum! Oh, she got you working hard, I see.”

“Good morning, Paul.” 

They give each other a nod and Paul slips through to put the juice in the fridge. “Whatcha need, babe? I ain’t forget nothing now, did I?”

“Calum, here, wants to talk to us,” Roslyn relays. 

“Well, we not talking over this hot stove. Des and Vicky,” he calls. They come in from the living room, having already set out all the table settings and glasses. “Y’all take over for Calum and Ma for a minute, okay?”

“Okay.” They return in unison and Calum pours the batter for the next pancake into the pan before handing the spatula over to Destini. 

“Oh, dude, it’s not chipped!”

“Nah, you did good,” he returns. 

“I’m trying a new top coat and I was a little nervous. I wrapped the tips like I’m supposed to, but sometimes new products won’t layer right.” 

With a hum of recognition, Calum follows Roslyn and Paul to the table. And he wasn’t nervous before--not when he had something to do. But now his hands sweat a little. He’s done things on a massive scale, performing to thousands of people before. But that’s miles different than this. Roslyn sits and Paul stands behind her chair. Oh this is so much worse. Objectively, a thousand times worse whatever crowd he’s performed in front of hands down. How is he even supposed to start here? A thank you? Just outright asking for their permission? 

“You look a little nervous there,” Paul starts. 

“I, well, I am a little,” Calum answers. But he exhales through his nose and figures thank you’s never hurt. Or least, it’ll buy him some time to sort out the words he wants to use. “First, thank you for letting me into your home. I know it’s a squeeze, but I appreciate you two embracing me each time so openly. I know it hasn’t been terribly long. And let’s be honest, I-I can’t exactly act like it’s surprising news either. But I want to say that the last two years I’ve spent with Jada have been nothing short of amazing.”

Calum pauses, taking another deep breath. He can already see the tears in Roslyn’s eyes. When he looks at Paul, he’s tear-eyed too. “God, it shouldn’t be this hard,” he laughs, feeling tears stinging behind his own eyes. “I know I want to marry your daughter. Like there’s no other way to say it and no way to be more tactful. I already get teased about it, but I love her. In all simple truths, I know I want to spend every last second I have on this planet with Jada, but I would never want to do that without your blessing first. I know how important family is to her and I’d be remiss not to ask you. So do I have your blessing to marry Jada?”

“Oh my god, I’m so close to driving the two of you to the fucking courts myself,” Roslyn jokes, popping up from the seat. “Yes, Calum. I already consider you family.” She wraps him in a hug, swaying back and forth. It’s a tight hug and Calum’s glad for it. His own chest feels like it’s going to cave in without the support to hold it together. 

When Roslyn lets go, she keeps one arm around his waist. Paul, still standing behind the chair, seems almost frozen. The tears are running down his face and there's pride on his face, but still something like disbelief tinging it. His chin wobbles a little and it’s almost like all the air catches in his throat. “She was my first daughter. I wasn’t there for the first few years, but she was my first. I was there to help teach her how to ride a bicycle. She came to me first to come out. She called me Pappa Paul still then too. And I am incredibly blessed to see her grow up. But to find a man like you--that’s something I prayed for, for all my girls.” Paul finally takes a step out from the chair. He’s a bit slow to close the distance between them. “Calum--you’re everything I’d want for my daughter and a bit more too. And Jada’s capable, make no mistake. Girl’s got some horns on her once she’s settled onto something. But I think the true honor is knowing that she’s in great hands. Take care of my little girl, okay? Please? She won’t always make it easy, but she makes it worth it.”

Calum’s vision swims and he blinks to clear the tears. They well back up again and he nods. “Of course, Paul. I’m happy too,” it’s choked as he says it and soft. But when Paul hugs him, Calum knows it was heard. 

“Where are the tissues?” Destini asks. 

Tasha hands her one, clutching the box in her arms. All their attempts to pretend like they weren’t listening immediately stopped the second the triage settled at the dining room table. Serenity turned off the burners to keep anything from burning and Tasha found the spare box of tissues from the cabinet. 

“Fuck, if I don’t have a love like that, I don’t want it,” Serenity teases, dabbing under her eyes. 

Jada leans into the railing of the stairs, shoulders shaking with her own tears. And when Calum excuses himself to the spare bathroom on the first floor, he spots her. She’s not even attempting to hide herself. “How much?” he asks, pivoting his course and starts up the stairs. “How much did you catch of that?”

“I swear I wasn’t--” she hiccups, “I didn’t mean to. I was headed back up actually and then--” Another hiccup interrupts her. Calum settles onto the step next to her, arms wrapped around her shoulder. “And I guess I came down after your whole thing. Because I heard Ma say yes and I hadn’t-- I hadn’t even noticed I stopped calling Paul Pappa and I just broke.”

Calum nods, holding her close to him. She shakes against him and he does her best to soothe her. It takes a minute or so and when she gets still enough, Calum encourages her up. Her eyes are red and her cheeks--dark like the rest of her--are clearly stained. “He loves you no matter what.”

“I-I know, but that has to hurt though.”

“Let’s get to the bathroom, okay, love.” He leads them up the rest of the stairs. The one that creaks no matter how much weight you try not to put on it still creaks on them and when they get to the landing, Calum turns in the direction of the first bathroom. 

Jada rests against the wall, exhaling as her head rests backward. “I’m okay. That just--it hit like a ton of bricks.”

“We don’t even know we’re growing up until it happens,” Calum says, finding new clean washcloths and running them under cold water. “Look at me,” he commands softly and wipes one under her eyes. 

“Is there a dry eye in this house?” Jada jokes, trying to reach for the second washcloth. 

“Hey, stay still. And I highly doubt it. Serenity and Tasha are kidnapping me later today.”

“May I ask why?”

“Ring shopping,” he answers, dropping the cloth for a second. 

“Calum,” Jada starts, “my only request is that you don’t buy me rose gold. But I thought we needed to talk. I know your Mum was for it but still.”

“I can still go ring shopping. Our conversation isn't going to change the fact that I absolutely do want to marry you. I just want to make sure when we talk it’s about being sure, and we’re not on different pages about kids or anything else important.”

“I want to know if you want to be closer to your family or not. You mentioned it once wanting to move back to Australia. And I know my family is here, but I think that’s also important to get straight.”

Calum nods. He did want that. He’s not sure if it’s feasible at all with where the band is currently in their career and then he’d take to take her so far away from her family too. Not ideal in any shape. But if kids aren’t in the picture for a couple more years then, they can sort it all out. “Yeah, I think that’s all worth clearing up. But don’t mistake any of that as me trying to back out of this.”

“Calum Thomas Hood, I am not scared you’re going to run away. Are you?”

“Jada Renee Miller, the thing I’m scared of is not marrying you. Because then I’d be a goddamn fool. I just--I’m scared you’re going to read my need for clear air as something else and that’s not what I want at all. I just, we’re always honest and I don’t want to start hiding anything now.”

“No going into a tizzy,” Jada states and takes the washcloth from his hand. 

“No going into a tizzy.” 

Jada runs water over the cloth and then wipes at his cheeks. They head back down stairs and it’s clear that everyone’s been anticipating it. But Jada tries her best not to steal looks at her sisters. They’ll grin and it’ll make her crack. “Ma, can you wash my hair after breakfast?”

“Jada, you are grown.”

“Please?”

It’s Roslyn trying not to look at Jada that lets Jada know just how much everyone is trying to keep it together. “Jada.” It’s firm, but the hint of laughter is clear. 

“Ma, I know.”

Roslyn whips around, tongs in hand. “What do you mean?”

“Call it my intuition or call it a conversation. But I know.”

“Oh, that’s no fun.”

“I think I’d rather spare the man any embarrassment if he were to ask at the wrong time. So will you please wash my hair today?”

“We are not just about to waltz past the fact that your boyfriend’s talking marriage!” Roslyn declares. “No, I won’t have it.”

Calum, who had previously stepped in to help grab the plates from the cabinets, looks up and smiles over Roslyn’s shoulder to Jada. Serenity reclaimed her duty with pancakes so Calum moved in to help in another way. “Yeah, we can’t waltz past that. So, first dance ideas? Waltz? Tango?”

“That requires you to actually move your hips and shoulders more in one degree, love,” Jada laughs. 

“I can dance contrary to all video proof.”

“Hmm, I’ll believe that when pigs fly or you dance,” Jada teases. “So, Ma, will you?”

Roslyn sighs. “Yeah, I’ll do it. But you have got to help clean dishes. And now tell me--what kind of dress? Mermaid? Aline?”

“Purple,” Jada laughs in returns, taking a plate from the stack on the dining room table and setting it onto a place mat. 

“Jada Renee!” Roslyn calls out, snapping the tongs at her. 

___________

Jada leans her head back, arms resting up on her mother’s legs as she sits on the floor. The tug of her mother’s fingers is enough to almost lug her to sleep. It used to hurt, but not much anymore. Calum, jogging down the steps, keys in hand, taps over his pockets. He has his phone and his wallet. Jada peaks open an eye. “Hat and glasses,” she calls out and Calum snaps his fingers before jogging back up the steps. 

“Thank you,” Calum says as he comes back down the stairs. 

“You’re welcome,” Jada hums.

He watches for a moment as Roslyn parts the hair, coats her fingers in something--it’s clear or maybe it’s got a lightest hue to it and it slicks down the flyaways, before she starts twisting the hair along the scalp. “I wanna learn how to do that.”

“I’ll teach ya,” Roslyn says, glancing up and fingers still deftly twisting strands. “It’s not hard.”

“Thanks.” He glances down to Jada and sees her eyes close. “I’d ask if she’s actually asleep.”

“I’m not,” Jada answers. Serenity and Tasha come down the stairs. It’s clear by the not so quiet debate about band color. Thankfully neither one of them mentions rose gold. 

“But she is not,” Calum laughs and kneels before kissing her cheek. “No rose gold,” he whispers and she grins. 

“Correct.”

Jada listens for the closing of the door and over it she hears some sort of combination of Serenity mentioning a princess cut diamond and Tasha shouting about making sure to get a matching band. “Whoa. Can we slow down? I need visuals. Keep it as simple as possible,” Calum returns. 

Jada can only laugh. “That’s my family.”

__________

Calum and Jada lay, dressed in their Christmas Eve pajamas, on the floor of her old bedroom. Beneath them they can hear the voices of her family. No doubt someone calling for more cookies and someone needing more milk for theirs. But they lay, listening to the noise beneath them. Calum wasn’t successful in his attempts to find a ring. Though he snapped a few pictures of some finalists, or least what Tasha told him to take pictures of. He was not one to dismiss her expertise. 

Jada looks at the duffel bag she brought with her. She knows what’s buried at the bottom of it. The box housing the band that her and Paul selected together. Once her hair was finalized, Paul asked her to come with him. And in the departure they stopped at a jeweler that Paul trusts. She anticipated it being harder, taking a much longer time. But when the man pulled out this box of bands and she spied the silver one in the back row, the inside of it carved to almost look like a braid, she knew it was the one. Platinum--she found out later. Expensive, but durable. Durability is something she wanted. Calum didn’t work a lot with his hands, but she rather have that base covered then on the unfortunate end of a damaged ring. 

Jada wanted the traditional gold, but all the jewellry Calum bought himself was silver. She wanted something that would stand out, but not too much so amongst what he already had. A subtle shine and simplicity but they would both know what it stood for. Maybe it was too the fact that the second Calum started sporting it, he’d be photographed. The platinum band would hopefully keep it all a bit more secretive until either one of them felt the need to say anything. 

It’s silly no doubt to hide it. But she liked the idea that she’d have it at least and keep it a mystery from Calum. Well, for however long she managed to keep it a secret. 

“How many kids?” Calum asks, turning his head to her. Jada’s twists are tucked up under a gold scarf and Calum wishes that he stayed, watched Roslyn part and twist. But next time maybe. 

“Three? Feels like my max. You?”

“Two--maybe. Always felt like a good number. My sister and I had each other to rely on. Also, keeps us from getting outnumbered as parents.”

“Two is a pretty good number. You thought more about Australia?”

“The band’s pretty local to LA right now. But I do miss home a little. I’d want my kids to know about it, visit. If we have kids, Mum’s going to want to come out to LA though for a little bit at least.”

“I love Joy.” It’s all Jada says but her exhale is slow. Just because they’re not moving right now doesn’t mean they won’t eventually. 

“What are you not telling me?”

“I’ve never lived that far from my family,” Jada exhales. “I’d be scared to move to a new country. I’d have you and your mum. But it’s a little scary.”

Calum turns to his stomach. “It’s scary for sure. But we can always revisit it. I don’t see us trying for kids immediately.”

“I’m getting older,” Jada returns softly. The confusion that crosses Calum’s face lets Jada know she has to come clean. Jada sits up fully, spinning on the carpet to face Calum. It’s not an easy thing to admit--mostly because she’d been trying to run from it as much as she could even though she’d been on two stints of birth control and was now in takes of pre-screening with her doctors. Jada picks at the underside of her nail before casting a glance back up to Calum. “Ovarian cancer runs in my family. I’ve started the screening process for it now that I’m older. But if they detect cancer, some treatments can affect fertility. And there’s options--like freezing eggs or adopting--but yeah. I’ve always kind of pictures myself carrying my own children and I don’t mind waiting. But it does worry me. I don’t know how much time I have really.”

Calum pushes up and reaches out for her hands. “I want to give you everything you want, Jada. But I think I need a couple years before kids. And I’m so sorry.”

It hurts--she knew the possibility was very real that Calum wasn’t ready. And she can’t fault him. He’s young and probably just the mere thought of kids is enough for him to wait. “There’s other options,” she whispers. And it’s to herself, to steel the tears. There are other options. There are other options. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Calum whispers. He knew she was going more frequently to the OB/GYN. She’d told him previously it was just preventative care, but he didn’t know why. She’d played that close to the cuff. 

“I’m sorry. I-I should’ve said this sooner.”

“Look at me.” When Jada’s watery gaze looks up, he closes in, forehead resting on hers. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I so did not want to do this on Christmas Eve.”

“If not now, when?”

“Christmas Day,” Jada returns with a laugh, wiping at the fallen tears. “But who knows? I could be a miracle, yeah?” Her mother was a miracle. Maybe the fates and stars would all align for her too. Maybe--there was no guarantee though. Not in the slightest. 

“You could be,” Calum agrees. Because the chances are never zero, he reminds himself. They are never zero, even if they are low and he needs that hope. Jada still had a chance even if the number was low. And it’s all he has to offer--just the hope--and so they sit for a moment, knees to knees as Calum folds up in front of her. 

“Still want to marry a broken machine like me?”

��Jada, you’re not broken. You’re human. So no, I wouldn’t want to marry a broken machine. But I’d love to marry the human like you.”

Jada studies his face. The way his brows knit together, trying to stitch themselves into some sort of new shape near the center of his forehead. “Can I ask what you’re thinking?”

“That I don’t want to hear you call yourself broken. I don’t like hearing it. And I know it’s not really my voice that matters at the end of the day. I know that. But I still feel wrong hearing it.”

“My therapist returns to the office a week after the new year. I set up an appointment.”

Calum nods. Her doctor went on maternity leave for a few months and Jada had gone to a couple different other doctors also in the building, but nothing had clicked. It’d been rough at first, but she hit a stride where the good days kept going. He wonders if the coming back home and now their inevitable wedding was pushing at all the stress buttons again. “I’m glad to hear she’s coming back soon and that you set up an appointment.”

“I told her about you. She asked for an update when I see her next.”

“Well, you’ll have one hell of an update, then.”

“Speaking of therapists, updating insurance is going to be a bitch,” Jada hums, gently running her nails up the length of his forearms. 

“And your license,” Calum jokes. “And passport.”

“Do not remind me. God, why doesn’t the man have to change anything?”

“I mean, I could still professionally go by Calum Hood and change my last name.”

“Calum Miller does not sound as good as Hood. But you’d probably get to hide easier.”

Calum strokes his chin. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Jada laughs just as a knock sounds from the door. It’s been mostly open this entire time, but with most of the family downstairs, they’ve had some privacy. 

Roslyn pokes her head inside and spots them on the side of the room where the closed door can hide them. “What’s happening up here?”

“Boring stuff. Debating who’s changing their last name,” Jada states, pointedly looking at Calum. 

“We’ve made no decision yet though.”

Roslyn nods. “We are t-minus five minutes from starting The Polar Express. So I really hate to interrupt such a riveting conversation. But the train cannot leave the station until everyone’s aboard the train with their tickets.” 

She holds out two pieces of paper, and on it it’s clear someone’s colored them gold--paint maybe-- with random letters punched into them. Or that’s what Calum’s gathered as he takes the one handed to him. “Should I ask now or wait until the movie is over?” he jokes. 

“Wait for the movie,” Jada responds and stands first. “We’re right behind you, Ma.”

Calum stands and though Jada goes to move on, push open the door and continue on, Calum stops her. “You okay? That’s a lot that just went down.”

“I’m as okay as I can be right now, if I’m honest. I know kids are a lot to consider. I just dumped a whole thing on you. And expecting you to have the answer I wanted is unfair. Doesn’t make it hurt less, ya know? It’s just how the cookie crumbled. You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel and have your own fears.”

“Just know I hear you, okay? I know you’re worried about waiting too long. Would it help to start looking at other possibilities? A backup plan to the backup plan.”

“Later like, after the holidays I think I can find the brain to talk about it. I don’t think I can handle too much right now.”

“After the holidays,” Calum agrees and follows her down the stairs to the living room. The couch is fully occupied by the time they descend. Roslyn, Destini, and Vicky have claimed spots. Paul unfortunately got the night shift for Christmas Eve, but it does get him home on Christmas Day, so they’ll take that win. Serenity and Tasha have built spots on the floor, along the couch for where they’ll be settled in and one more spot is open right at the end of the couch near the front door. 

“I’ll get us cookies and snacks,” Jada states and veers into the kitchen. Calum takes the hint and settles down in their spot, watching from afar as she collects everything. She makes it worth it. And she does, she’s always made it worth it. But it was like his mother had said, it wouldn’t always be easy. But it was a choice and he’d choose Jada a thousand times over if he needed too. 

Jada returns a bowl of popcorn and two plates of cookies. Tucked into her arm are various bottled drinks. “I almost cracked open the champagne, since we hadn’t touched it yet.”

“Save it for tomorrow. There’s cider in the fridge,” Roslyn offers. 

“I wonder where the wine went,” Jada teases, looking at the last of the red wine in her mother’s glass. 

With a large gulp, Roslyn grins. “I wouldn’t know. Not the slightest clue.”

“What a shame.” 

Calum helps Jada down, grabbing the bottled drinks and a plate so she can settle down in front of him. Vicky does a head count, each one of them sounding off as she touches their shoulder. “Alright, we start our departure, in three….two….one.” The movie buffers for a second and then starts to play. The light dim just a little in the house, and for a beat it’s really like Christmas. The matching PJ’s that Calum and Jada have. The house smells of vanilla and sugar from cookie baking. If it were to snow, Calum wouldn’t bat an eye--he’d call it a Christmas miracle.  

The speakers shaking just a little when the train finally arrives on screen. Calum, with his arms resting by his side, reaches out for Jada and she reclines into his chest. “Do the kids have tickets for the train?”

She grins up at him, feeding him a handful of popcorn. “Yep.”

“And is this guy punching the beginning letters into them for them?”

“Uh huh.”

“Let me guess who punched the letter into our tickets?”

“If you say someone with a V in their name, you’re correct,” Jada chuckles. 

“It’s all coming together. Vin Diesel. Fast and Furious Christmas edition.”

It takes all of Jada’s might not to laugh out loud and she can feel herself shaking as she attempts to stifle her laughter. After a minute, she settles and Calum’s giant smile greets her. “You’re not totally off base given one point in this movie.”

They watch the skidding of the train, the kids getting hot chocolate, sliding down Santa’s giant toy bag and when the bell is heard, the entire house erupts into cheers. It starts to come to an end as the children return to their homes and the screen freezes. Calum pauses for just a moment and then he notices people reaching up. When he glances up, Vicky hands out new golden tickets, more holes in them than their first ones. 

“No, no way,” he whispers to Jada. “Are those words?”

“You’ve never seen this movie?”

“I mean, I feel like I have in some respects. But clearly my memory is stating otherwise.”

“Just wait,” she smiles. “Thanks,” she directs to Vicky when she grabs her new ticket, the one with her full word for the year on it. She holds it a bit in the light to read Joyous punched into the sheet. 

Calum takes his and tries to read the others, but he can’t quite make it all out. Though he thinks Roslyn’s read Courageous. When he holds his up a little over Jada’s head, he catches the B that started his letter from the first ticket and follows the humps and lines down the page. His throat jumps when he puts all the letters together, Brother. He wasn’t worthy of that, not to Vicky or any of them, but when he looks back to Vicky on the couch, she smiles. “Brother?” he asks out loud. 

She nods. “Cheesy, I know. And technically breaks the rules. But,” she shrugs. “I think it’s pretty cool to have you in the family now. You’re cool. And I’ve never really had a brother before. I have some boy cousins but they annoy me. And you don’t annoy me so don’t worry about that.”

“I-I love it. Thank you, Vicky.”

She gives another nod. “You’re welcome, Calum.” The movie starts up again and Vicky shouts, “Ticket please!” in time with the movie as the rest of the girls hold up their tickets straight up in the air. 

He looks back to his. Brother--sure he was a brother to Mali and he was a brother to Luke, Michael, and Ashton. But he’d spent years with them--through the thick and the thin. He’d dedicated his life to them in ways that he didn’t think he could give to anyone else. And maybe he wasn’t a brother to Jada’s sisters in the same way he was a brother to the guys or to Mali just yet. But there was something. They trusted them and Calum loved them--loved all of this no matter how much he was still new to it.

And he thinks about that damn chocolate again--how not only had he’d fallen for Jada, but her family had made space for him. He was spreading into the webs and no one seemed to bat an eye at it. Soon, he’d be so much a fixture that Calum’s not sure he’d be able to recall the moments of unease, of still trying to find his footing, because he’d be so perfectly melded into everything.

It starts now, though, with a gold painted piece of construction paper that reads Brother and Calum wouldn’t want to imagine it any other way. So he rests his elbow on his bent knees to put his ticket up into the air. They come back down a few moments later and the movie slowly fades out as the voice over comes back not too long after. 

That movie ends and there’s a pause, people replenishing snacks and Calum can only start down at this newly-minted-but-also-not-new-label punched into paper. He’d tattoo it--if it weren’t Christmas Eve--the first marking of something that makes him more than just Jada’s boyfriend, or her fiance, but that makes him family in such a tangible way that he knows he wants to frame it. Carry it with him everywhere. 

I think I’m literally gonna cry, he texts into the group chat and then snaps a photo of the two tickets. Vicky made ‘em. 

The sisters’ have spoken. You’re officially not going anywhere, Ashton replies. That’s huge, dude! Calum did tell them about Tasha’s comment after the performance and he vaguely mentioned that he was looking at rings. But he hadn’t quite told them how permanent such action was going to be. 

It’s cute, Luke returns. Frame it?

Whoa, dude. Don’t freak, but I think they like you, Michael replies. 

If he said, he’s going to cry, he’s already freaking out, Luke interjects. 

I am not freaking out, Calum texts back. It’s sweet as hell though. 

A new text buzzes his phone and Calum taps on the banner as it appears. He notices it’s from Ashton, Do you have a ring yet?

Working on it. Serenity and Tasha and I went out a couple days ago to look. 

I started browsing at these. Let me know if they’re any good. The designer’s based in Vegas. So I wonder if you might be able to meet up after Christmas before you leave?

Calum clicks on the link and it opens up in his Instagram app. He waits for it to load. When the post burst to life fully loaded, a thin gold band with a small v shaped to it greets him and matching it as a rhombus shaped gray and white diamond stares back at him. And she needs it--or maybe he needs it. But all he knows is that, it’s the ring. He checks the size and when the number 8 stares back up at him, he almost shouts, almost hollers out his enthusiasm, but swallows it back down. Tapping the arrow, he shares the link with Serenity and Tasha in their group chat. I am DMing the designer right now. 

Once the text message is sent, he goes back to the designer’s Instagram page and asks if the ring is still available and if so, how could someone in town pick it up. He prays it is. And he knows he won’t get an answer until Monday at the earliest. With Jada and him leaving on Thursday, he’s hoping for a miracle in all honesty. He goes back through the posts, trying to see if the person made any statement about being closed during the holidays because he’d hate to disturb them and more than anything he’d hate to get so hung up on this ring and it not even be available anymore. 

Holy fucking smokes, I hope you can snag it, Serenity returns and when Calum looks up across the way to her, she’s fanning herself. Tasha slides out of the kitchen into his view, pointing at her phone. Her eyes are wide. 

His phone buzzes with a new message, If she doesn’t marry you, can I? Calum can’t hold back his laughter and covers his mouth to muffle the sound. He should be worried about the rest of the room worrying about what has him laughing and how he’s going to lie through this one. But all he can do is let his laughter consume. 

Another text shakes his phone, I don’t know why you’re laughing. That’s a serious offer. All it does is make him laugh harder.

______________

You’re lucky. Calum exhales on the thought. You’re lucky, the designer said in their message to Calum. They’d messaged him on Christmas that the ring was still available, seeing as they paused their website starting on the 20th of the month. But they just had a gut feeling to check their messages and his was right on top, like every angel existing in this plane was trying to give him a shot. You’re lucky. 

You’re lucky I’m a sucker when it comes to love. I’ll message you on Monday with a password to enter the website. For shipping, select pick up and DM with the order number. We’ll talk from there about meeting up! Enjoy your holidays! 

If Calum had been in any position to cry, he would’ve. And even though, Jada was already awake and getting ready to head downstairs, he did fucking cry. He cried more than he had even anticipated until he could feel the emotion shaking him. He would’ve cried more openly if he had been in any position to, is more accurate. But the relief that flooded him felt like a release, like finally things were starting to look up. Not that they were ever looking down, but he had a plan and he needed it to go off without a hitch at the very least. And it would’ve worked with or without a ring, but it mattered to Calum that he had the ring. 

Calum stares down at the screen of his phone. You’re lucky I’m a sucker when it comes to love. It’s burned into his retinas, every blink, every article of clothing that he looks at holds the message front and center. He was lucky to be a sucker in love. “Should I go blue or red?” Vicky asks, holding two shirts up. 

Calum smiles. “That is a tough call. How much blue do you have in your closet?”

“Not a lot. It’s Jada’s color,” she returns. 

“Jada’s color?”

“I don’t know--she wears it alot.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t wear it.”

“Okay, true,” Vicky reluctantly agrees. “But that doesn’t help the issue, which is what color do I choose?”

“Which color do you like the best?” Calum asks, slipping his phone into the pocket of his jacket. Both shirts are almost exactly the same. The red has gold lettering whereas the blue has silver. But they’re the same cut and style. 

“Blue.”

“Then I think you should get blue,” Calum states. He holds out his hand to add it to the pile Vicky’s been making. 

“But the red one is also pretty,” she huffs. 

“You said you like the blue one the best. You can have two of the same shirts, but only if you’re actually going to wear both.”

“Fine, fine, fine,” Vicky thrusts out the blue shirt to Calum and hangs the red one back onto the rack a couple feet from him. 

“Vicky, if I can’t see you, you can’t see me,” Jada’s voice cuts over the speakers still playing the last trickles of Christmas music. 

“With Calum!” she shouts back. Calum raises his hand to signal where he is. He ducked over in front of the dressing room to wait on Destini who wanted to try on some jeans she wanted first. Vicky was supposed to stay with Jada, but as he sees now, she’s drifted. 

“You were supposed to stay with your sister, you know,” Calum says. 

“I saw something I liked,” Vicky defends. 

Calum nods and when a hand lands on his shoulder, the telltale sign of Jada running her nails along his neck, he lowers his hands. “But it’s important that you stay close to her.”

“I know.” Vicky looks up. “Sorry, Jada. I saw something and just went for it.”

“Just as long as you’re safe,” she returns and then glances down into the hallway that leads to the dressing rooms. “Destini still in there?”

Calum nods. “Unless she’s somehow escaped into the vents and is halfway to another store by now.”

Jada chuckles slightly, giving one last scratch with her nails and then steps forward. Jada knows it shouldn’t take 15 minutes to try on some jeans. Not even she takes that long unless she has to completely undress due to her original outfit. But Destini only had some jeans on, a t-shirt, and sneakers. “Des, you doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” comes the return. Looking at the bottom of the stalls, Jada looks for the pink socks she saw Destini wearing before they left the house. And in the second to last stall, she can see someone sitting on the floor, knees most likely hugged to their chest. 

“Destini, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” It sounds croaky and it’s everything Jada needs to hear to know that it’s far from nothing. 

Jada sighs, one hand poised to pull back the curtain but she stops. “It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“The pants don’t fit.” Destini’s voice cracks as the sentence leaves her throat. 

“Can I come in?” Jada asks. There’s silence and Jada knows she should really wait for an answer to enter, make sure Destini is dressed, but she’s not always been a patient soul. “I’m giving you a minute to get decent and then I’m coming in.”

The curtain billows a little, a few seconds later, and Jada takes it as a sign to enter. Destini’s still curled up in the corner of the dressing room, the jeans she wanted hanger on the left. “So these jeans don’t fit?”

Destini shakes her head. Her cheeks and under eyes are swollen from the tears she shed. 

“Is this a brand you’ve bought from before?”

Destini gives a nod and Jada exhales before kneeling on the carpet across from her sister. “Can you tell me why you’re crying?”

“I’ve always been that size. Always. Now they don’t fit. More and more is just barely fitting in my closet. And I don’t know what to do.”

They weren’t one to just suddenly gain weight, genetically speaking. And Jada knows being at home is stressful in any right. So she doesn’t want to start there with home though it would be smart. Vicky hadn’t seemed to gain much weight--or at least nothing extremely noticeable or out of the ordinary given her age. Serenity and Tasha could mostly take care of themselves and were controlling their diet more than Vicky or Destini could. Or at least what Jada assumed. But she’ll ask just in case. “Has anything changed at home? Or school? More stress?”

Destini shakes her head. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Well, okay, is there anything that is out of the ordinary? Have you been on any new medications? Or did something happen at school, and it only has to be like once, but is there anything strange? Sometimes we just gain weight. But it’s not a bad thing, if it just happens. We can do stuff about it.”

“I st-started birth-birth control. The doctors said it would help with my periods. But I feel like I’m turning into a whale. I hate it. I thought it was just my pants at home. But God--I don’t want this!”

Jada opens her arms, switching her position so her butt in direct contact with the ground. There it is. “It can happen with birth control. It happened to me. Are you doing shots?”

Destini crawls into her sister’s arms but nods. “I-I wasn’t sure if I could do the pills.”

“Is it helping? With your periods?”

“A little. I started maybe three months ago with my first shot. Like two weeks and some change?”

Jada kisses the top of Destini’s head. “Weight gain is pretty common on the shots. But you’re not a whale, sweetheart. It’s just the shots. It’s okay. When do you go back to the doctor for your next one?”

“Next week.”

“Tell Ma about the weight gain and tell her that you want to try something else--see if you can call before the appointment in case they want to get you in earlier. The doctor’s probably going to fuss, but if you really, really don’t like this, then you can fight it. Tell them you want the pills and then you and I can put an alarm on your phone once you pick up your first pack and I’ll do my best to remind you. But you don’t have to keep doing this if you don’t like what it’s doing to your body.”

“I really hate it, sis. I hate it so fucking much.”

Jada runs her hands over Destini’s back. “Then don’t do it, love. Do not fucking do anything you hate, you hear me. Not a single thing. Did you stop track because of your periods?”

“I-I had to. I couldn’t make meets.”

“Hmm, I’m so sorry. I hope your doctor listens and you can get on the pills. I hope you can get back to track soon.”

Destini clings to Jada, face pressed so deeply into the sweatshirt that Jada can feel the contours of Destini’s nose and face along the bumps of her collarbones. But Jada doesn’t move. She hums, hand sliding up and down Destini’s back. 

“You’re never alone, Destini. Never,” Jada states after a few minutes of silence. “C’mon. Let’s get your shoes on. And we can go somewhere else. We can say fuck you to the jeans and to the shots and we can do literally anything else.”

“I really don’t want to shop for clothes anymore at least.”

“Okay, then we don’t have to. Hang with me and we can do whatever it is that you do want to do.”

Destini nods. Both girls stay on the floor as Destini gets her shoes back on, but when Jada does stand, she snatches the jean from the wall as Destini grabs her purse. Jada ushers her out, dropping the jeans over the rack in the fitting rooms for clothes discarded. “We’re going to sit outside while you two finish up,” Jada states and Calum merely nods. 

Calum and Vicky watch as the two girls leave the store. “What happened?” Vicky asks. 

“I have no clue. But let’s try to make this last walk around quick?” Calum asks, gathering the hangers Vicky’s accumulated. 

Vicky nods. “I just need to do one last look through my pile.”

Calum holds each item up individually for Vicky to look at it. She makes her final judgment, yes or return, rather quickly and with the yes’ finalized, the two make it to the register. Vicky goes to reach for her gift card Paul gave her for the store, but Calum stops her. “I got you.”

“But I have--”

“I know what you got. I was there. Save it. For another time. Your birthday or something.”

He gave each of the sister’s small things, with Jada’s guidance: a purse for Vicky that she’d been wanting to save up for and an entire book series for Destini. Tasha and Serenity were harder--Jada knew what they liked, but trying to make sure it felt appropriate from Calum was the hard part. When Tasha mentioned her older Keurig breaking, Jada swooped in and sent a link to Calum. He was quick to snag it up. Serenity seemed the most impossible. She played everything close to the cuff. But Jada knew about a few tattoos she’d been planning to get, very much against their mother’s wishes. However, Jada had sort of broken the seal on that with her whopping ten. There was very little resistance from Roslyn, though she always put up the fight. Once Jada finally managed to get the name of the shop, she texted Calum. He had gone to Vegas a couple months earlier to play a festival and snagged a gift certificate. 

But just because he’d done that, didn’t mean he couldn’t also do this. The three shirts and skirt total cost no more than fifty dollars. There was no way he was going to have Vicky use every dime of her giftcard on such a small collection. He takes the bag from the cashier with a smile and then reaches out for Vicky’s hand. “If you get another one for your birthday, you can come back and get a lot more stuff then,” he offers to Vicky. 

She grins. “I like the way you think, Calum. Excellent.”

Jada stands facing the store and Destini’s tucked into her side. The dressing room. The lack of Destini’s jeans. Calum doesn’t dare try to push it, but when he closes in with Vicky at his side, he softly asks, “Shoe store next?”

Jada looks at Destini. “If you find those platform boots, you want, I’ll pay for them and even help sneak them into the house.”

There’s a small tuft of laughter that Destini releases. “Yeah, shoe store next. And I think now that Serenity has money for tattoos, I think I’m getting the easier end of the deal.”

“I don’t think I have any legs to stand on,” Calum laughs. “For either having tattoos or encouraging them.”

“I want one!” Vicky adds on as the four of them start in the direction of the store. 

“When you get older,” Jada returns, one arm slung over Destini’s shoulder. Calum checks his watch, new thanks to Jada’s Christmas present, for the time and there’s still a little less than three hours left on the deal he made with Serenity and Tasha. But he knows he can’t go back on it, though he wonders if he can make an exception due to the ordeal with Destini. 

Vicky sticks close by, but Destini makes a beeline for the boots and Calum, gently as he can, tugs on Jada’s arm. “Is Destini okay?” he asks. 

“I hope she is soon. Jeans didn’t fit and she’s just having a bit of a rough time right now.”

Calum wants to say that they could’ve always gone up a size, but he doesn’t let that thought cross his lips. It’s probably not that simple of a problem. “Okay. Let me know how to divert if it comes up.”

“I will,” Jada smiles and kisses his cheek before crossing the store to Destini. 

“Okay, direct the way,” Calum states to Vicky. 

“Heels!” she cheers. 

“Are-are you even allowed?” he asks, following behind her. 

“I can look but I’d have to ask Ma before getting any of them.” She looks over the walls, pointing to the ones with the highest heel that Calum’s ever seen. He doubts it’s the highest ever, but his eyes definitely widen when he sees them.

“I just got your parents good graces, I am not immediately trying to lose them,” Calum laughs. 

The shoe store sucks away an hour and a half. By the time Calum can get Vicky away from the heels, looking at shoes more her speed, he notices that half an hour as gone by. And more time slips away too when Vicky demands that he also looks at shoes for himself. And Calum doesn’t even want new shoes. But he doesn’t dare refute her request. Calum asks which ones she likes for him and watches the determination cross her face. 

“You’re entrusting me with a lot,” Vicky finally speaks. 

“I have no doubt you’ll steer me wrong.”

When her first pick is a pair bright orange Nike’s, Calum does have one fear and it’s not being able to get out of buying new shoes for himself as Vicky’s insistence. But her smile cracks through soon and she puts the shoe back onto the display. “I’m kidding. Well, maybe only a little bit.”

“That’s what I was waiting on,” Calum laughs, following behind. Somehow he winds up holding onto a box of Vans that he knows he has no business holding onto. But he needs Vicky to get distracted by something before he can put it back. And when Vicky notices some sparkly flats, Calum slips the box back into their spot and follows behind her. 

“I love them,” she whispers. 

“How have you ever worn platforms this high ever?” Calum turns to the voice, noticing Destini standing high in some ankle high boots. 

Jada’s at her side and laughs before speaking, “Just think murder. You can walk and kill a man and that’s how you walk in them.”

“Yeah, I think I firmly believe in my feet staying as close to the ground as possible. Oh no.”

“Calum, we need to walk away before I’m unable to say no to myself,” Vicky states. 

“Okay, we are walking away, we are walking away. Let’s see if we can convince Destini to get those boots.” 

The attempts to find boots are unsuccessful, though Destini does snag a pair of cow print heels. Jada called them something more specific, but Calum only half heard as he tried to steer Vicky past the glitter flats that she saw earlier. “We’ll meet someday,” she whispers as they walk through and Calum wishes he could have captured the agony in her voice to do it justice in any future retellings. 

“One day,” he adds on, attempting to validate her feelings. 

The drive back to the house feels shorter than Calum remembers it being, but they still end up taking the full thirty minutes to get back. Just as Vicky steps through the door, she’s greeted with the smell of lemon. “Is that lemon cake I smell?”

“None until you eat dinner,” Roslyn hollers in return. 

Jada notices the good plates are out and stops just before ascending the stairs. She hands the bag to Destini, anyways so she can take the mules and hopefully no one’s the wiser. “What’s the good plates for?” Jada asks. 

“Just go get cleaned up,” is her mother’s return. But just behind her mother is a plate of pork chops, which are Jada’s favorite, and she only really knows it because of the smell permeating the house. Not that she’d ever tell anyone that was the dish she coveted more than anything. Jada steps down one step and starts for the kitchen. The closer she gets the more all her favorites fill out in front of her. She’s not sure why she didn’t anticipate this sooner. But somehow, maybe to all the wishing, she wanted to fade away. Be there, be a participant, but not be so central. Yet it was staring her in the face. 

“Who all this for, Ma?”

“Go get cleaned up.”

“Ma.”

“Jada.”

The two women give each other stern looks, both with lips pursed: silently telling the other to give in first. Neither one does for a moment. But Jada knows she can hold out longer than her mother. “It’s for you, Jada, alright? Now go get cleaned up. We’re almost done,” Roslyn sighs. 

“You don’t have to do this. All this effort,” Jada states. 

“For you, I absolutely do. And I’m happy too.” There’s a beat. Jada goes to protest, try to tell her mother she doesn’t need anything. But Roslyn beats her to the words. “I love you. Let people do stuff because they care, sweetheart. Now go, get cleaned up. Your pork chops are waiting and getting cold.”

“I know something else is getting cold--them greens you not stirring.” Jada and Roslyn share a quick tuft of laughter before Jada kisses Roslyn’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“Of course, lovebug. Be sure to tell Calum this new cast iron is getting a proper christening.”

Jada giggles. Only her mother. “I will reword the message but pass it along.”

________________

Calum settles back into the seat of his SUV. With Jada helping Roslyn with both Destini and Vicky’s hair, he manages to slip out of the house without any problems. “Let me see!” Serenity gushes. She agreed to come with Calum--as she roughly wears the same size ring as Jada and also because he feared not having someone else with him during this transaction. The ring itself was easy to get on one end of. When his phone chimed with an Instagram DM, he immediately opened it and found the password for the website. With zero hesitation, he ordered the ring and sent the appropriate information back to the designer. 

It was the actual meeting and physically holding the ring that Calum feared. So when he put in the thread with Serenity and Tasha that he’d paid for the ring, he hoped desperately one of them would volunteer to come along. He didn’t have to hope for too long because Serenity’s response was her eagerness to go with him. 

“You’ve seen it thirty times now,” he teases, but hands the box back to her. He watches the rock sparkle just as catches the sunlight. 

“And I can see it thirty one times if I want too.”

“You think she’s going to like it?” It’s only now that it’s real and in his possession that he worries about it not being right. What if Jada hated it? He hadn’t always had a great eye for her taste. He’d attempted to go shopping with and for her. She’s eclectic to say the least--sweatpants and a hoodie one day to flare jeans and docs the next. And it wasn’t necessarily a problem, as it was a hurdle. If he were throwing darts on a board to find a label for her style, he’d miss a thousand percent of the time. 

This is not a time he could miss. 

“Calum, she’s going to fucking love it. But if you’re going to do this tonight, then I need to raid her duffel bag the second we get home.”

“I feel insane. Two days from Christmas--still needing to figure out what to do with my parents and my friends. She wants kids and she has good reason for wanting them sooner but I’m fucking scared.” He shouldn’t divulge. But it’s a lot. He knows he knows he wants this but there’s a lot of variables. Maybe too many variables. 

Serenity nods. “You got anyone to talk to? Or do you really want my perspective?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t unload.”

“No, you can unload. I just want to make sure we’re both clear on the boundaries.”

Pausing on his way to turn over the key, Calum reclines into the seat. “You’re a sister. That feels like crossing a line.”

“Just--just hear me out. Whatever you need to work out, you need to work out. Do you know how easy it is to get married in Vegas?”

“It can take less than a day.”

“Exactly. Less than a fucking day. Flip this dinner around. Make it a proposal. Come back in the new year. Whenever, dude. Either way you get to marry the girl of your dreams and it’s a healthy relationship. The fucking thing neither one of you needs is to rush into this too fast with shit y’all need to work out and not having a plan on how to work it out. No sense is that.”

After the holidays, I think I can have the brain for it. Maybe both of them need the brains for it.  Calum starts the SUV. “Text your mother. Change of plans. Proposal.”

“That also calls for an outfit change. I have to rethink my whole plan now.”

“Do what you must,” Calum laughs. 

As they pull out onto the street, Calum feels slightly disappointed. But he needs this to be done clear-headed, all their dirty laundry on the table. That’s the thing he needs from all of this. He loves Jada--there’s no doubting that. But he doesn’t want to make any mistakes in this or as few of them as possible. 

______________

Something bright reflects off the high noon sun and Calum glances just briefly to his right. Jada reclines back into the passenger side seat. Left hand adjusting the volume on the radio. The solitaire ring, with the rhombus shaped diamond, rests there, on her hand, catching the light of the day. Only three months have passed but the western coast hardly shows if any time has passed around them. It’s the same old road, same sun beaming brightly around them. The same four hour drive that they’re almost two hours into.

 “I already know this is the way to take to my parents’ so I don’t know why you’re trying to be all secretive. If we’re going to see my parents, you can just say that.”

The highway’s an endless stretch in front of them. Calum smiles at the thinly veiled frustration. Reaching out for her knee, Calum turns back to the asphalt. But he offers nothing else. It’s not even out of fear--he can’t really spoil this. His dress pants already hint at too much. But he wants to try to make this as much of a surprise as possible. “Are you hungry?” he asks as the song changes. “Our favorite gas station is coming up in a few.”

“I do want some more water, if that’s okay.”

“Nah, I’m going to dehydrate you on a four hour drive,” he laughs, but squeezes at her knee. “Yeah, we can stop over and get a few things.”

“Did you coordinate with Ma? You know I can get just about any information out of her,” Jada states. Calum wasn’t budging. He told her to wear something nice, to which she obliged with her green skater dress. But he hadn’t given much else. And not that Jada didn’t think it was going to be a bad thing, but the anticipation was slowly killing her. 

“You know the therapist said that it’s bad to hold secrets,” Jada tries again. 

“I think that’s a low blow play to get more information.”

The ‘I’ statement deflection--a classic move. And it always worked. It let her know that her attempts were noticed but that she’d still tried to get said information in an unfair way. “It was,” Jada returns. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

Calum signals for this turn and takes it easy before pulling into a spot along the front of the store. “How about I give you a hint?”

Jada nods, turning in her seat. “I’m listening.”

“You’ll need your driver’s license.” It’s all he says before opening the door to the truck and slipping out. 

Jada stares at the space he once occupied and huffs. “I can need my license for fifty thousand different things.”

“I’ll give you another hint once we hit hour three of the drive,” Calum says from her side of the vehicle now. “And then you’ll get the last hint at hour four.”

It’s something--not nearly enough as something like a full reveal, but Jada decides maybe she should take it. “Okay,” she says, taking his hand and stepping down. Over the speakers of the gas station, a hypnotic beat plays. It’s clear the song is way too bass heavy for the speakers this place has, but the rattle continues on and the attendant at the register doesn’t seem too phased by it. They nod at Calum and Jada and then glance back to their phone before continuing the restock of the counter displays. 

Calum watches as Jada bounces down the aisle to the song towards the fridges lining the back of the store. Time slows again, hanging somewhere between him and the attendant because he thinks the only thing she’s missing is a bag of Takis and the debate on whether or not to get a honeybun as well. The shakes start back up in his hand. When he initially asked her to bring a few day’s worth of clothes and to dress nice, the day before their departure, he was nervous. He thought the tremors racking him would plague him forever. But this morning, he felt food. But now he’s two hours out from doing the thing that just three months ago seemed like it would take forever to get too. 

“No snacks?” Jada asks, shimmying just a little in the aisle as the song continues overhead. 

“Oh, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

Calum nods. “Anything else?”

She shakes her head. “Nope, I’m all set.”

The check out is fast and Calum’s wishes he’d said he wanted to look around. He wishes she’d wanted more time. But with the promise of two more hints looming, it makes sense that Jada wouldn’t take too much more time into the trip. So Calum climbs back into the driver seat. There was only so much stalling he could do. His phone shakes just as he buckles back into the seat. We’re about an hour and a half out from the address, it’s from Luke. Which meant either Ashtor or Michael was driving and given the circumstances, it was Ashton. Calum nods and drafts a quick reply before sending it. 

Jada hates not knowing. And if she ranks the things she hates, not knowing would be number one or number two. It was really a toss up between not knowing and having to hunt down the socks that Calum almost seemed to lose just one in the pair because he was never careful about making sure both socks made it into the laundry bin. And it’s a silly thing to hate but it’s happened so many times now, that Jada almost wanted to attach a net to the damn basket and keep all socks from falling into any potential crevices. 

Calum watches the clock, the minutes tick by faster than he’d like them too but he knows there’s a schedule that they’d need to follow as much as possible. Luke, Michael, and Ashton had a half hour start to get to Roslyn’s and Paul’s to drive with them to the court system and also help out should anyone need it. For the simplicity of this, it didn’t seem likely, but Calum wanted that half hour cushion in case anyone one did need the buffer. He had learned the wisdom in having and not needing something, especially time in pressing situations, against needing and not having it. 

When hour three ticks by, Calum exhales. He can feel the piercing gaze of Jada. “This thing is sometimes associated with a celebrity.”

The huff Jada gives is enough that Calum knows it’s vague enough to mean too many things. So his secret is safe for a little bit longer. “Calum, you absolutely suck at giving hints.”

“I think it’s pretty good all things considering.”

The suck of Jada’s teeth lets him know she is not amused. “Requires my driver’s license and is something associated with a celebrity,” she whispers. 

When she starts rapping her fingers over the dash in front of her, Calum fears she’s going to absentmindedly pop the glove box. She can’t do that--if she does that, everything’s ruined. And they’re so close to having anything ruined. But she draws her hand back rather quickly and shakes the fist at the ceiling of the truck. Calum exhales a little. Then she snaps her fingers. “Strip club!” And just as fast the idea hits her, she seems to rescind it. “Nah, I said I was going to show you around. You don’t know the places that I do.”

“You don’t know that I don’t know the places that you know.”

Jada laughs. “I do know that you don’t know the places that I know.”

“That’s a lot of knowing,” Calum returns, “from someone that absolutely doesn’t know if I don’t know the places that they know.”

“Well played sir, well played. But am I right?” And as the question leaves her lips, she can see the thought toying on Calum’s brain. If he should play nice or not. But he shakes his head to signal a no soon enough that Jada takes it as a real response. “Seriously? Not a strip club?”

“Not strip clubs. Though, we can add it to the list.”

“With the places that I know, I think we should.”

“Aye, we’re not doing that again,” Calum laughs. “I just barely kept up the first time.”

“Hmm, I’m going to figure this out, Hood.” Jada tosses out a few ideas before giving up and deciding to wait for the final hint. As they enter more deeply into the city, and away from the neighborhoods, Calum’s sure it’ll become obvious before he can give the last hint. But when he hears no gasp from Jada, or snap of her fingers, Calum turns to see Jada lulled into sleep. A saving grace, he figures, is her ability to fall asleep on car rides. And he’ll take it right now, he’ll take whatever he gets. 

He spies Michael’s car on the street and wonders if he was wrong about who drove. But when right behind it, he can spot Serenity and Roslyn, he knows that all his time is up. He finds a spot and undoes his belt. He’s gentle as he shakes Jada’s shoulder. She hums, “Why is the car stopped?”

“Because we made it. And you get your last hint.”

At the reminder of the hint, Jada cracks open her eyes. “Which is?”

“This is one of the final moments where we can debate on whether or not, we even care about last names.”

Jada completely sits up. Though he doesn’t think the sleep was ever too deep, she looks like an angry toddler almost due to the way the confusion scrunches up her face and the last bit of sleep still lingering about. “Last names.”

“Hint 3A, check the glovebox.”

Jada undoes her seatbelt, unsure of what in God’s name Calum’s been planning and when she turns to see a courthouse, she whips around in her seat. “Calum Thomas Hood.”

“Or potentially Calum Thomas Miller, but that’s still a debate.”

Jada cracks open the glovebox and the box with Calum’s wedding band stares back up at her. She’d eventually caved and told him about it. Something she suspected she’d do a lot sooner than she actually did, but only by a week. And they kept both boxes buried in the back of the underwear drawer. It was silly, considering they both knew they were there, and what they were for, but Jada didn’t want to hide her truth--that she knew no matter what they had to do-- be it month three of couple’s counseling of the six months they agreed to undergo, or even being open about own fears about fertility-- she was going to marry Calum. 

“This is not what I think it is,” she whispers. 

“If you want it today, then it absolutely can be. There’s no waiting period in Vegas--like you said. We get this license and we can be at the chapel in a couple hours. Where there may or may not be an Elvis Presely impersonator waiting with Can’t Help Falling In Love to serenade you. But the only condition is that you have to promise not to go off and marry them instead.”

Jada pulls down the passenger side mirror, fluffs out the braid out. Her light makeup stayed well enough even with her nap and she turns back to Calum. “No promises about Elvis,” she states with a wink. 

Calum laughs, one hand covering his mouth because of course--of course Jada would say that. “Those are chances I’m willing to take then.”

“Oh my god, Calum!” Jada starts, falling into the seat. 

He freezes, his door partially opened. The thudding of his heart echoes in his eardrums. “What? What happened?”

“I need my driver’s license for the marriage license and Elvis impersonators at the fucking chapel! Those are pretty damn clever hints, babe.”

The fear subsides just enough. “I’m glad you think so.”

Inside the building, time drags on. It’s an hour to get to an available clerk but once they do, the paper work isn’t terribly hard. Though Calum does have to make sure he has his mother’s maiden name correct before handing over the forms. It feels embarrassing to have to call her, but he knows it’s important--as few mistakes as possible. At the new name section, both Calum and Jada pause. Jada really doesn’t mind changing her last name--as much as she liked to joke that not doing it would make life easier, it would be one of the few things that always linked her to him. 

Jada places her pen down. “You know, being a Hood wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” she offers. 

“Why phrase it like that? Not such a bad idea? Trying to tell me something?” he teases. He sees the big note on the form that even if she does put down Hood, she’d still have to change it legally through whatever process L.A. has set. But maybe it’s just meant to be more symbolic than anything. 

Jada doesn’t say anything as she writes down her full name and adds Calum’s last name to the form. Maybe she is trying to tell him something. And maybe she’s not. Maybe it’s just pure desire to be his in as many ways as possible. But whatever it is, Jada continues on, writing in the mailing address and then reviewing all sections and pages of the form to make sure no errors are in the spelling of their names. 

She hands the clipboard back over to him. “Double check me.”

Calum reads over the basics--name, date of birth, social security numbers--and finds no errors. He flips another page over and stops again. “You know this doesn’t legally change your name.”

Jada nods. “I know.”

“Have I told you I loved you yet today?”

“This morning.”

“Shame on me for not saying it again since then. Because I do, I love you.”

“I love you.”

With license in hand, Calum and Jada hurry back down the steps of the building. And it’s only during the descent, when she spots what looks like Michael in the front seat of his Tesla. She lets Calum’s montemum take her down but once on the sidewalk, she follows the line of cars down and spots Serenity and then Paul in the driver's side of their cars. “Babe--why are like almost all of our families here?”

“You do need a witness,” Calum returns. “And there were a lot of plus one’s.” 

“But Joy and David?”

“Let’s just say the plan for a vow renewal and reception in about a year is non-negotiable at this point. I tried to get them out, but the timing was still a little rough. Some things couldn’t be missed on Mum’s end.”

“We’ll need something in the off season then, which feels incredibly hard to have an off season in Vegas.”

Calum nods, and tugs on her hand to keep her closer. “We’ll figure it out. I’m sure Mum will be happy to get out of Australia right on the cusp of winter.”

“Or, destination renewal in Australia?”

“My dear, that’s a hell of a flight. We can keep thinking about it, yeah? But chapel, Elvis, you possibly becoming my run-away bride?”

Jada steps in, patting his cheek. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Yeah, I think I should warn Elvis about you though.” 

Jada crosses the street as she laughs and stops at Michael’s door. “So which one of you is going to catch the bouquet today?”

“I’m betting on Luke,” Ashton calls from the back of the seat. “You rocking and rolling?”

“We have a license to marry, hot stuff. No worries. Thanks for being here, for Calum.”

“He’s our brother. We’d follow just about any crazy idea he had,” Michael returns. “Besides, it’s you, Jada. If he didn’t marry you, I think we all agreed collectively to kick his ass.”

Jada gives one last passing piece of gratitude before waving at her family in their cars. But she knows there’s no time like the present so she crosses the street again, finding Calum leaning up against the side of the truck. His arms are folded to his chest. “You look like you got somewhere to be,” she teases. 

“I might have a hot date at a chapel,” he grins. 

It’s not too long of a drive to the chapel and it’s only as Jada sees Destini and Vicky stepping out of the car that she worries if she was taking something away from them. But she knows it’s that nagging voice, the one that made her feel like she was supposed to be setting the example for her sisters. And hell, even if that voice never shut up, why couldn’t the example she set for them tell them that they do whatever it was that made them happy. Even if it wasn't traditional, it was their life to live and theirs alone. They should choose how they want to live it. 

Jada could choose how she wanted to live her life and she wants Calum. She wants it like this, in a green dress, and a chapel with an Elvis impersonator. And it’s messy, if she ever had it cleaner, it wouldn’t be Jada. The vows are traditional and she makes a mental note that when they renew, she wants new ones. And maybe every so often, she’d go back and tweak them. Because if she learned anything from her four year stint in individual counseling and now couple’s counseling, it was all about tweaking. You changed a little bit here and they changed a little bit there. And it wasn’t about monumental waves. They only need to be sustainable. 

Jada had to be able to sustain Calum and Calum had to be able to sustain Jada and it didn’t always happen in a massive wave. It happened like the lapping of the sea at the shoreline. It was steady and sure it changed here and there, but it eventually returned back to it’s normal. That’s what she needed and that’s what she feels like she has, a steady with Calum. Even though his job is demanding, he came back. Even though she irked his nerve, and he irked hers, they always had a certain level of steady that they could return to. Like tides on the shoreline--never gone completely, maybe a little changed at time, but always present. 

“I, Calum Hood, take you, Jada Miller, to be my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you all the days of my life.”

Like tides against the shoreline. Like the chocolate that melted into everything. 

“I, Jada Miller, take you, Calum Hood, to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. I will love and honor you all the days of my life.”

Like tides against the shoreline. Like the chocolate that melted into everything. 

“With the power invested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

Calum takes a beat. Trying to study the glint in her eyes--not something sad, not something bad. A realization. And he knows that look. One he’s seen her give when she’s working, or reading and everything seems to click into place much like she expected it too. He knows then too--it is all clicking into place. 

Their kiss is short. Calum’s almost too scared that when he opens his eyes, everything around him is going to drift away. “I--Is this all real?” he asks against her lips. 

Jada laughs, hands going to cup his jaw. “Yeah, baby, it’s real.”

A clicking into place. His eyes are slow to open and she’s still standing there. The chapel’s alive with noise. He can catch the distinct whistle Ashton gives and the sobs of Roslyn. And it’s so fucking real--it almost hurts his cheeks with how hard he’s smiling. 

They descend the steps and just faintly over the noise, a voice starts to sing. And he couldn’t help this. She couldn’t help any of this. 

A clicking into place. 

The tides lapping at the shore. 

The chocolate that melts into everything. 

They’d eventually be powerless to it. Fighting fate would have exhausted them. Giving in at some point becomes life saving. 

__________________

The light on the door lights up green and the mechanisms click. He steps into the room first. The lights from the strip and city below cast a neon glow into the room. Calum steps aside after getting the lights on. His chest heaves just a little and given the smear of Jada’s lipstick, he knows his chin is also sporting a vaguely dark brown hue as well. The two of them are no strangers to the heavy petting in an elevator or sneaking touches. But the more Calum sees the band now resting beneath her engagement ring, the more he pictures the amount of unheavenly things he wants to do to her. 

“You do know the elevator is monitored,” Calum teases, stepping away from the door and it closes with a particular rough thud. 

Jada casts her gaze down to his left hand, sporting the dazzling platinum band she slipped on just a few hours ago. Her husband--and even though the phrase hadn’t actually crossed her lips verbally, the mere thought made her panties a little damp. “Do you think the front desk accepts apologies in the form of fruit baskets?”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t mind.”

For a moment, they almost circle each other. Calum steps in to get to the bed and slips out of the dress shoes and Jada watches the moment carefully from above. She moves to lean against the A/C unit, arms folded to her chest. “No,” Calum laughs, after dropping the second shoe to the floor.  

“I haven’t said anything,” Jada returns. 

“But I can read your mind. My knees aren’t built for how fucking thin and hard these floors are. So bring your cute ass to this bed.”

“I’m not the one that did the punk jumps for almost ten years.”

“You’re not. But I think if you want your husband to remain in good shape, you’ll spare him just this once.”

And there’s that phrase again. Jada clenches at the sound of it. “Say that again.” She pushes up off the unit and starts towards Calum. “Say it one more time for me, please,” she exhales breathlessly. 

“Hmm, I’m not sure which part,” he grins. He knows. He saw the way she nearly came in her underwear just as the phrase of ‘your husband’. But he wants to know what it does to her when she says it, when her lips curl around the letters. He wants to know what it does to him too. 

It’s a small uptick of her brow that Jada gives to indicate the thought before it’s spoken, “I think you know.”

“No, I don’t think I do know.”

Jada straddles Calum’s lap and his hands immediately slip up the skirt of her dress, resting just on the tops of her thighs. But she knows, by the way his fingers grip at her flesh--she knows he needs her to say just as badly as she wants him to say it. “When you called yourself my husband,” she starts whispering in his ear. “I think you should say it again.”

He loves the sound of the phrase from her lips. It sends a shiver down his spine and his body lights with a fire that he didn’t think could be lit. He squeezes down on the flesh of her thighs. “Oh, that phrase,” he exhales against her ear. 

“Yeah that one.”

Calum pulls back just a little. Her eyes are blown wide--and it’s almost impossible to tell iris from a pupil normally, but it’s even harder now. “Whatever my wife wants.”

She lets out a small hum of approval, as if somehow that also scratched the same itch, head falling back on her neck. And maybe it had. Tracing the line of throat with his nose, Calum grins into her skin. Jada guides his head back up and leans in to kiss him. The kiss is eager, but they move slow to savor every drop, every second of each other. Jada could just say here, with Calum holding onto her thighs and the press of his erection into her clothed sex and the smell of him intoxicating her. It’s all she needs. 

But when he nips at her lower lip and she whimpers, pressing down into his crotch, the deep growl Calum releases sends every nerve ending on fire. No, that’s what she needs, she thinks. She needs Calum just as gone as her. Jada kisses across his jaw and down his neck. She pauses to get a good grip on his shirt, fingers tucked inside and she yanks. The buttons pop, a few hitting the wall and TV with distinct plops, but most hit the floor soundlessly. Jada’s quick to kiss down his chest. 

“That was an expensive shirt, love,” he says with a laugh. It wasn’t that expensive, but still a pretty penny. He’s sure buttons can easily be sewn back onto them. So right now it’s not a full loss.  

“It was in my way,” Jada exhales into his skin. 

Calum’s hands, once on her thighs, but had since then gravitated to her ass, smooth around the contours of her body and find the lacy front of her underwear. He gets a solid grip, pulls them from her body to make sure he doesn’t hurt her and gives a yank too. The lace gives with a crackling echo. 

“Those were expensive,” Jada returns. 

“They were in my way.” His fingers find her clit and he circles, firstly gathering up the stickiness of her arousal and then pressing onto the nerves in steady circles. 

Jada hums at the feeling, the way her body warms, and rests her forehead on his shoulder. “Touché.” Her next thought is interrupted by a wave of pleasure. “Fuck,” she whispers. 

Calum removes his hand and gets a tighter grip before standing. They both go up and then Jada’s back down, pressed into the mattress, staring up at Calum. He throws the now ruined shirt off his shoulder and yanks the torn panties down too. He drapes her core with the skirt of the dress. “Let’s get one thing straight, love.”

Jada nods, her signal that she’s listening. 

“I want everything. I want every last orgasm your body can give to me. I want everything. Can you do that? Can you give your husband everything?”

“Everything?” Jada questions. 

She says it so fucking innocently, batting her lashes up at him. Calum bends down, cupping her bare sex under the dress. “Everything.” He slips one finger into her and her back arches, nails digging into the skin and muscle of his bicep. He slips a second one in just as easy as the first and he inhales every exhaled whine and moan Jada gives. “Everything,” he whispers over her lips.

His pace is relentless. Jada’s not sure if she’s seeing straight or if it’s really stars darting her vision, but she knows she’s going to unravel soon. Sheets curled into her fist, she arches up and presses down into Calum’s hand. Her orgam rocks her and she lets out a guttural groan at the release, the snap of the coil in her lower gut. 

“That’s one.”

Jada knows she’s in for a long night when her second and third orgasms crash over her just as Calum’s mouth. But she knows that everything really is everything when it comes to Calum. Clothes are finally fully discarded. And there’s nothing really like pressing chest to chest with Calum for Jada. Not when she’s fully seated on his length and his hands are exploring the dips and valleys of her body. 

Calum digs his heels into the mattress just a little and meets her descent with his own ascension. He can’t look away at the way their bodies meet and he wants to watch her come undone, watch the drop in her jaw and they hazy look in her eyes as she comes. It’s a glorious sight. One he never bored of, no matter how often they made love to each other. He can feel the pressure building, the way his muscles jump and tense as his orgasm rocks ever closer. 

He makes sure Jada orgasms first, adding his thumb to her clit and the spasms of her release tighten around him. “God,” he huffs. The release hits, the dam breaking and he blinks through the orgasm to try and keep his full attention on Jada. And she looks so fucking content atop him, smiling just a little as the back of her hands caress his cheek. 

“I really hope no one can hear us,” she whispers. 

Calum laughs, bringing her down for a kiss before responding, “I really hope everyone can hear us.” Using the position as leverage, he gets her onto her back and settles between her legs. A little bit of his release starts to leak out but he’s quick to use this thumb to press it up and back into her before traveling that digit up to her clit again. 

Her whole body shudders, locking up for a brief moment at the overstimulation. She’s fucked--more than just the actual action--she’s fucked because she’s going to give him everything and she knows tomorrow she’s going to want more. She knows the day after is going to bring more too and all she wants in that moment is to give into every carnal desire too. How is she going to leave any of this behind? And maybe she didn’t have to, she didn’t have to leave it all behind. 

There’s a moment reprieve from the thoughts, from the future, when her fifth orgasm starts to build. Calum’s sporadic work on her clit is just enough and she exhales. “Calum, shit.” Something about it tetters on pain, but right now there’s still a decent amount of pleasure. At every touch and lick, she jostles, writhing in the sheets. 

Lifting her head in the brief pause, she finds Calum smiling up at her. “You’re so fucking smug,” she huffs. “Of course.”

And in response, all she gets is another swirl at her clit that has her dropping her head and grunting again. There’s the ascension and then a plateau, and she thinks she’s hit her wall. That she’s got nothing else. But then Calum spares nothing, tongue and fingers working at every part of her. She falls over the edge, something leaving her throat--though she can’t be sure if it’s a scream or her own imagination of a scream. 

There are those stars again. Behind the tightly shut eyelids, she can see them bursting into bright silver and her body feels like it’s on fire and somehow filled with rocks. Calum’s voice sounds far away, but she can feel something cool and she knows he has to be close. Working to discern the rumble of the A/C from Calum’s voice, she starts to catch onto the words, “You’re okay. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“I think that’s everything,” Jada laughs and it sounds croaky. Maybe she had actually screamed. 

Lips press into her forehead and then are soon chasing down her eyelights and the bridge of her nose before one last kiss is placed onto her lips. “Thank you,” Calum whispers. 

Jada nods, hair bushing over the pillows and she thinks she recollects a bath. There were definitely snacks and water. Calum always makes sure of that after sex, no matter how tame or not too energy consuming it was. The thing that tops it all is his warmth. She looks for that the most. When he crawls into the bed next to her, after the clean up and hassle, she attaches herself to his side. He’s wordless as he readjusts positions and allows her to rest her head onto his chest. “Just listen to my breathing,” he encourages. “Follow my lead.”

And she does. The steady rhythm of his heart in his ribs is just the right lullaby to carry her into sleep. 

Tagging: @villainorigincal​ @5-secondsofcolor​

[cryonme]

𝐌𝐈𝐙’𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 —

(i do not take requests)

— 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐄𝐫𝐚

— 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

— 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

— 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲

— 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬

— 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

— 𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

fandoms i don’t write for as often—crossed out means im no longer writing for.

𝐌å𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 | 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 | 𝐄𝐮𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐥𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 | 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐌!𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 | 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 + 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐱

i do not give anybody any permission whatsoever to rewrite, translate, copy or repost my work anywhere besides this blog. if u do so anyway i’ll fuckin come for u. got it? :) (reblogs are welcomed and encouraged!)

© cryonme.

[bestyearsluke28]

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.

[ukulelecal]

Bloom - Part One

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: angst!!!! implied smut. perhaps a swear or two. mostly angst

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: can yall believe that this video sent me so feral that i wrote this whole lil mini series in like five days?? i'm not surprised tbh. ANYWAY omg i really am excited for y'all to read this!!! i hope you love it!!! i would love your feedback, and please please remember that reblogs mean the absolute world to creators!

series masterlist

masterlist // posted on ao3

Devon would never forget the first poem Luke wrote for her.

He was a blushing mess as he handed her the folded piece of paper, insisting she read it later because he didn’t want to see her reaction. He had a lip ring then, blond hair spiked up and a wardrobe full of band t-shirts and black skinny jeans. He certainly didn’t look like how anyone would imagine a poet, but one look at his work would tell anyone that he had the mind for the craft.

Luke’s way with words was unmatched. Devon always called it a superpower; the way he was able to capture readers with words strung together so beautifully and paint a picture in the brain. He made people feel something. He had a gift, no doubt.

All of his poems were breathtaking, and he wrote many for her. The first would always be her favorite.

It was called The Orchids. The poem compared a woman to a field of orchids, delicate and lush. It was simple but sweet. Devon vividly remembered the rush of giddiness she felt as she read it, knowing it was written just for her. She remembered calling Luke after reading it over and over again, gushing about how much she loved it. He explained to her later that he chose orchids because the color of the shirt she was wearing the day they met reminded him of them.

They were only freshmen in college then. First time away from home, getting their first taste of real independence. Of adulthood. They met in a seminar class that every first year student had to take. One that everyone else hated but Luke and Devon loved, just because they got to see each other. A couple of coffee dates lead to The Orchids, which lead to a loving relationship and many, many more poems.

College was just about to come to an end now. Graduation was coming up fast, and that brought the simultaneously exciting and dreadful question: what next?

The future was something that used to delight Luke and Devon. Countless nights, they talked about marriage, a house, a dog, children. Luke would be a renowned poet, Devon a respected social worker. They had it all planned out. Even if their white picket fence dreams fell through, they would be happy so long as they had each other.

With graduation creeping closer and closer, Devon wasn’t so sure about their plans.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want it anymore. She still loved Luke with all of her heart. She wanted everything they had talked about, a future with him. Some deeper thinking into her career led her heart elsewhere.

It came out at dinner one evening, sat at the table of Devon and Luke’s shared apartment that they had moved into junior year.

“I’ve been thinking about going to grad school,” she blurted out. She twisted her spaghetti on her fork to distract herself. His face lit up, but Devon didn’t quite share his excitement. She knew this was something she wanted, but she was about to make a huge sacrifice that she had been trying to convince herself that she was ready for.

“Yeah? That’s great, Dev!” Luke cheered. “Here?”

The proud smile on his face quickly dropped when he saw the look of dread on hers. Graduate school was certainly a good thing, but if she wasn’t thrilled, Luke knew there must be a catch.

“Not here?” Devon shook her head. “Then where?”

The name of the school that she mumbled under her breath made Luke’s heart sink. It was far away. Very far.

“Oh.”

Luke wanted to kick himself for being disappointed. It was selfish, so selfish. He should have been proud that Devon wanted to further her education, and he was. He couldn’t fathom trying to take that away from her, but the thought of his girl being so far away was gut wrenching.

He wiped the frown off his face as quickly as it came. He reminded himself that he needed to be supportive, even if it hurt.

“That’s awesome, baby. I’m really proud of you.”

Devon knew he wasn’t lying when he said he was proud of her, but she could tell he wasn’t as excited as he was trying to seem.

“You don’t have to act happy about this, Lu,” she murmured, still pushing her pasta around. “I know what you’re thinking.”

He sighed and dropped his fork on his plate. Of course she saw through him. She always did. After four years of being together, Devon knew Luke better than anyone.

“I really am proud of you for doing this, honey. Don’t think that I’m not. It’s just…” he trailed off, unable to think of a way to put what he wanted to say without sounding selfish. “It’s so far away.”

Devon swallowed the lump in her throat. She was headstrong, and she knew that she needed to put her career and her own desires first. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to move so far away from the love of her life.

“I know, bubs,” she whispered. “But this is something I really want for myself. For my future.”

“Oh, honey, I know,” Luke sighed, not wanting her to feel bad. “I want you to do this. But the distance...I know it’s selfish of me-”

“It’s not selfish, Luke,” she interrupted, shaking her head softly. “It’s not easy for me either. But this school has the best graduate program for social work. Besides, I haven’t finished my application yet and I’m applying to some other places too. I might not even get in.”

Perhaps the most selfish thing of all was that a tiny part of him hoped she wouldn’t get in. It would break her heart if she didn’t, but maybe she wouldn’t be so far. Luke hated himself for the thought even crossing his mind for a split second.

Devon could see how this was affecting him. She understood; she knew he was planning on proposing shortly after graduation, though they were in no hurry to actually get married until they both had secure jobs. Moving hundreds of miles away for two years undoubtedly threw a wrench in the plans.

She had gone back and forth for a while as she searched for grad schools. As much as she wanted to stay close, her future career was something that she valued greatly. Devon was a first generation college student, and she wanted nothing more than to make her family proud. However, Luke was important too. The distance wouldn’t be easy, but she tried to be optimistic. She could only hope that he would want to try too.

“Don’t think like that, Dev,” Luke mumbled. He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. His desire for Devon to succeed and his desire to keep her close were battling each other, and it only frustrated him.

He thought about his words for a few moments, but couldn’t find the right thing to say.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Devon gave a silent nod. She needed to let him feel this out, and honestly, she needed to do the same. Thinking about it was one thing, but actually telling Luke was another. She had been stressing over it for a while, and now that it was finally out, her and Luke had to actually deal with it together.

The couple finished their dinner in silence, the only sounds to be heard being the slight scraping of forks against plates and the occasional sighs.

Devon couldn’t help but feel guilty. Over the years, she had conditioned herself to put her own aspirations first. She had sacrificed a lot for others in her lifetime, but many people had made sacrifices for her as well. She felt she had found a balance between taking care of herself and taking care of the people around her. She knew that moving away for a while for her own benefit would have an effect on her relationship, but she didn’t feel as if she had to choose one or the other. If Luke was willing to try to make things work, then so was she.

Luke took his last bite of spaghetti and stood up from the table. He silently made his way to the sink to wash his plate before turning back to Devon.

“I’m going to write for a bit, okay?” He mumbled, slowly making his way towards the spare bedroom that doubled as his workspace. No doubt a poem was going to come out of everything he was feeling at the moment. Devon nodded and her brown eyes watched as Luke turned on his heel to walk away.

“Luke?” She called out before he got too far. He turned around with a hum of acknowledgement. “I love you.”

Despite the anxiety and dread he was feeling, he smiled.

He walked back over to where Devon still sat at the table. With her face cradled lovingly in his hands, he bent down to press a soft yet meaningful kiss to her lips. The kiss said that even if things were uncertain, this wasn’t over.

“I love you too.”

…

Devon’s breath caught in her throat when an email from her top choice grad school came through.

She had poured over her personal statement and fretted over her interview. No matter how much everyone assured her, she couldn’t help the anxiety that ate her away.

With a deep breath, she opened the email.

Accepted with a scholarship.

“Luke! Bubs, I got in! I got in!”

She ran into the spare bedroom where Luke was hunched over one of his many poetry notebooks. His head whipped up at his girlfriend’s yells, his brain taking a moment to process her words after being in the writing zone.

For a moment, neither of them were thinking about the distance. All that mattered was Devon’s amazing achievement.

Luke stood up to meet her. Devon practically tackled him in a hug and he easily held her close.

“Congratulations, honey,” he mumbled into her hair. “Fuck, I’m so proud of you.”

He held her for a few minutes, neither of them able to wipe the smiles off their faces. This meant a lot to Devon, and Luke knew it. He knew from the moment he met her that she was going to do great things in life. She was motivated, intelligent, passionate. Anyone could see it. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

Luke pulled away in favor of cupping her cheeks in his hands. Devon flushed under his adoring gaze, eyes falling downwards.

“You’re incredible, Devon Murphy.”

She kissed him as a form of thanks, melting into each other’s touch. Their eyes met when they pulled away, bright blue and warm brown. Devon wasn’t the wordsmith that Luke was, but she didn’t have to be. Her eyes and her actions told him and everyone else everything that they needed to know. Devon was in love with him, and Luke, her.

Even with Luke’s way with words, Devon could read his eyes too. They were just as expressive as his poetry. As they gazed at each other, she could see the flash of sorrow as his mind travelled elsewhere. She didn’t need to ask to know what he was thinking about.

“Luke…” she whispered with a softened gaze. The guilt was returning, although she knew she had nothing to feel guilty about. She had always struggled with her determination to put herself first. It wasn’t Luke’s fault either, however; his feelings about her leaving were completely valid.

“No. None of that right now,” he stated, shaking his head. “This is a huge accomplishment, Dev. We’re not going to be sad tonight.”

A grin tugged at the corner of Devon’s lips as Luke pulled away, grabbing his phone from the desk and sticking it in his pocket. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to the door of the bedroom.

“I think you deserve a celebratory dinner, honey, yeah?” He offered, handing trailing to the side to hold her waist. She chuckled and leaned into him.

“You could throw in a frozen pizza and I’d be happy, bubs.”

“Hell no,” he scoffed as if it was the most ridiculous suggestion in the world. “You just got into grad school! I’m taking you out for dinner. If you want pizza, we can get pizza, but not a frozen one.”

Devon couldn’t help but throw her arms around him again, burying her face into his chest. He tilted his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She knew this wasn’t easy, and she was beyond grateful that he was being supportive.

“Thank you, bubs. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. So are we getting pizza, or do you want to go somewhere else? It’s up to you.”

“Pizza sounds good. Can we go to the place with the good garlic knots?”

Luke laughed as he slipped on his shoes.

“Of course we can.”

Devon slipped on her own shoes and grabbed her denim jacket from the hook by the door before the couple made their way downstairs. Luke’s beat up Prius came into view as they stepped into the parking lot. Devon had named the car Bertha; she was old and a little rusty, but she got the job done.

Luke drove to the small pizzeria not far from their apartment complex. Once inside, they were seated quickly and ordered garlic knots and a pizza to share.

“We haven’t talked much about your writing lately,” Devon said once the waitress walked away. “What have you been working on?”

Luke shrugged and sipped his water.

“Not much. I haven’t really gotten anything good out.”

Truthfully, he had written a lot of poems about Devon leaving. He wasn’t going to tell her that at their celebratory dinner, though.

“In a slump?” She queried sincerely.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Maybe next weekend we can go out, go to the park. You always get inspired there.”

Luke grinned and reached across the table for her hand.

“I’d love that, Dev.”

The rest of dinner flew by, conversation getting lost in buttery garlic knots and savory pizza. Luke offered dessert, but Devon was too full to even think about it. A sly joke about having her for dessert at home had the giggling couple paying the check and driving home at record speed where Luke certainly made good on his promise.

Devon and Luke laid in bed that night where whispered I love you’s and gentle kisses put them to sleep. Not a negative thought in either of their minds. They were content, but the future still loomed menacingly ahead.

…

The apartment was once a place of solace. It was a place where Luke and Devon could get away from the stress of college life and simply be together. It was safe and comforting. A place they knew they were always welcome.

As time went on, the apartment slowly shifted from a place of joy to a place of dread.

Graduation day was coming up, and both Devon and Luke knew what that meant.

They busied themselves with assignments and exams, Devon simultaneously preparing herself for grad school. She didn’t say much about it to Luke; whenever it came up, the tension between them only got stronger. It led to them bickering about other things to avoid the conversation.

Before they knew it, graduation had come and passed. Devon and Luke officially had their bachelor’s degrees, Luke in creative writing and Devon in social work. The days leading up to it were a good distraction, celebrations with friends and family taking their minds off the move. But it was over. Devon needed to get to her new city soon to set up her new apartment and get her bearings before school started. It was time to face the music.

“Luke?” Devon mumbled as he came out of the spare bedroom. She had been waiting for him to finish so they could talk.

He sighed and sat down next to her on the couch, knowing exactly what this was about. They both had been dreading the conversation, but he knew just as well as her that they needed to discuss it before it was too late.

“Are you ready for this?” She whispered, glancing at him with sad eyes. He didn’t return her gaze.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to be away from you for this long, honey.”

Luke could feel his guard coming down. He wanted this for Devon, but he was struggling to keep his want for her to stay close suppressed.

“I don’t want you to think I’m not considering you in this,” she began, reaching for his hand in his lap. “Leaving won’t be easy for me either.”

“I know.”

He was too scared to say much else.

The couple was silent for a moment. They racked their brains for something to say that would make the situation easier on either of them.

“Maybe you could come with.”

Devon regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth.

Luke huffed and sent her a look.

“You know I can’t do that.”

She did know. If he could do that, he would have jumped on the opportunity immediately. Luke couldn’t afford to move. He was working on fulfilling his lifelong dream of releasing a poetry book. He was getting so close. Publishers were starting to take interest in him, and he nearly had enough money saved to cover the costs. It was difficult to save money when his part time job at a local bookstore didn’t pay much in the first place and he still needed to pay for school as well as his share of the rent and groceries, among other necessary things. Devon was a little luckier. Neither of their families had much to contribute, and she needed to pay for the same things as him, but her part time job paid better than his and she had money saved from when she managed to land a paid internship first semester. It was covering the costs of her move and grad school.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She watched him for another moment, trying to fight back the tears that were welling in her eyes.

“Please say something, Luke,” she whimpered. All she wanted was for him to affirm what she so desperately wanted; for them to be okay.

He finally looked at her, both sets of eyes red rimmed. Devon squeezed his hand.

“Do you really have to go, Dev?”

The break in his voice sent the first tear gliding down Devon’s cheek.

“You know how much this means to me, Lu. I really think we can make this work.”

“Can we? Can we really?” Luke’s tone turned frustrated. Devon’s mouth dropped open slightly. Did he not believe they could last?

“What are you saying?” She whispered, voice shaking.

He sighed and roughly stood up, dropping Devon’s hand in the process.

“We’ll never talk. We’ll both be so busy. You’ll have school, I’ll be working. And you know neither of us have the money to be visiting each other often. There will hardly be anything,” he rambled, pacing around the living room. Maybe his selfish side was coming out, but he felt he was just being realistic.

Luke always aimed for realism, particularly in his poetry. He wrote largely about real life experiences and channeled his emotions into beautiful, flowing rhymes. His best work came from personal connection.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but write about what he wished he had.

His idealistic poems were never about Devon; his relationship with her was practically perfect. But this was something that no idealistic poem could fix. No words could change what was happening to them.

“I’ll make time for you, Luke. Won’t you do the same?” She questioned, growing frustrated as well. She had wanted him to share her optimism, but clearly he didn’t. A part of her knew he was right, but she wasn’t going to back down.

“Of course I’ll make time. But will it be enough? No matter how much we try, will it be enough to keep what we have going? Look at what it’s doing to us now! You haven’t even left yet and we can barely keep it together.”

“Do you really have that little faith in us, Luke?” Her voice was calm, despite how she felt on the inside. She narrowed her eyes at him. “No one said it would be easy. But we’ve been together for four years. I believe in us.”

Luke took another breath, trying his best to keep his emotions and tears at bay.

“I want to believe in us, Devon. I really do.” He turned to look at her. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and it only made his heart ache more. “I still want a future with you. I want the house and the dog and the kids we’ve always talked about. But I have a bad feeling. We’ve never been away from each other for more than a few weeks. I just...the distance is going to break us.”

Luke’s own words cut him like a knife. As much as he wanted to believe they could last, his own insecurities caused him doubt. He wasn’t sure if he truly believed that or if he just wanted to save himself the heartbreak of being away from Devon for so long.  

Devon let his words sink in. Even if it did break them before she finished her degree, she was willing to try until they couldn’t anymore. Maybe he was right. Maybe the distance would break them eventually. But it hurt her that he didn’t have any faith at all. Still, she understood where he was coming from.

There was no winner in this situation.

She thought for a moment, and finally came to the conclusion that they were both thinking about.

“Fine.” She slowly stood up from the couch and looked him in the eye. They were both shattered. Hearts were breaking into a million pieces simultaneously. Devon put on the most stoic face she could muster with tears still leaking from her eyes. “We obviously want different things right now. I have school, you have your book, and clearly we can’t handle both at the same time. Maybe there shouldn’t be an us.”

Although he had essentially been the one to suggest it, her words felt like a punch in the gut.

This wasn’t what either of them wanted. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But the truth was becoming more and more apparent. They couldn’t do this. Not now.

However, Luke mimicked Devon’s actions and put on a blank face.

“Maybe there shouldn’t.”

They stared at each other for another few moments. Reality was setting in. This was the end of Luke and Devon. All of the coffee dates, the love poems, living off Ramen and questionable dining hall food together, walks in the park, kisses, I love you’s, the late night talks of the future, everything gone down the drain.

Devon shut herself in the bedroom before Luke could see her break.

…

The next month before Devon moved was painful. Her and Luke hardly said a word to each other. They ate their meals separately, not bothering to cook together like they used to or order food to share. They both spent time with friends before everyone went off to their new adult lives. When they weren’t out, Devon locked herself in the bedroom while Luke did the same in the spare. They hadn’t slept in the same bed since before their fight.

Devon spent a lot of free time packing. She went through all of her belongings, creating piles of things to keep, things to donate, and things to throw away.

She soon came across something that made all of her emotions about the breakup resurface.

It was the shoebox that she kept all of the poems Luke had written for her in. She kept every single one.

With a quivering lip, she opened the box and gazed at its contents. Piles of folded papers were neatly tucked inside, his declarations of love all written out in one place. They were her most prized possessions. She went back and reread them often, and the feeling of having someone love her like Luke did was the best feeling in the world.

Devon choked out a sob, burying her face into her hands in hopes that he wouldn’t hear her through the thin walls. The fact that he was right next door hurt her even more. The caring, gentle boy that made her swoon with his charming smile and romantic poetry. He made her fall in love with him all over again every day. He was everything, and she lost him.

She slowly read through each poem. Instead of joy and adoration, all she felt was anguish and heartache. She never thought she would feel this way about Luke.

When she got to the bottom, she pulled out the last poem, and her heart completely broke in her chest.

The Orchids.

Devon couldn’t keep her sobs at bay. She clutched the paper to her chest, every bit of pain coming out in tears.  

Luke could hear her through the wall.

His heart told him to run in and comfort her. His brain told him it would only make things worse for both of them.

He plugged his ears, trying to block out the dreadful sound. He was in just as much pain as her, but the sound of the love of his life’s sorrow only made his own worse.

Glancing down at the open notebook in front of him, he reread the poem he was writing, and soon he found himself joining Devon in tears.

It was called Wilted. Their relationship that had once been a beautiful flower, an orchid, lost its sunlight and its water, and now it had wilted. Dead, grey, dried up.

Luke dropped his pen and folded his arms on the desk, burying his head into them. He cried.

The broken couple, only separated by a thin wall, might as well have already been miles apart. They cried together, but there was no sense of unity between them. Their pain was past what any poem could portray.