Broken Home | Part 5
Warnings: Vomiting and so much angst it's disgusting.
It was oddly rewarding for Calum as he watched Reyna dig into the bagel that he had bought her. Although he couldn't give himself credit for the progress she had made, he couldn't help but feel that being there for her had given her a slight shove in the right nutritionally-adequate direction.
They sat at one table with Michael and Crystal, while the other two couples sat at the table adjacent to them in the rustic coffee shop. It was an unfamiliar choice of decor as everywhere else seemed to have taken on a modern approach.
The walls were wood and the seating area was pressed against windows at the front of the building. Lightbulbs hung from the ceiling, casting a yellow glow across the tables that had tiny tea candles as centerpieces.
Reyna’s first week with them was arduous. Him, KayKay, or Ash would often wake up to the sound of her retching into the toilet. After most meals, the same would happen and he’d hold her hair in his grasp while his other hand rubbed up and down her bony shoulders. She wasn’t as hesitant to eat in the third week as she was in the first and he felt pride in her for that.
She was listening to what Sierra was saying to her left as she chewed with her hand covering her mouth. Calum was a stranger to every word that was being said but he smiled appropriately when Reyna did, less at the audible content.
“You’re staring mate,” Michael muttered quietly beside him before taking another bite out of his sandwich.
Calum straightened and cleared his throat of nothing, “Just zoning out is all.”
Michael made a disbelieving choking sound and pushed all the food in his mouth to one side before mumbling, "You've always been a shit liar, haven't ya'?"
The dark-haired boy simply dismissed him with a shake of his head and went back to spinning a green plastic food basket on the table with his hand. He tried to listen in on the conversation between the rest of the group, but context clues didn't get him very far so he opted for sitting confusedly while 'zoning out'.
He thought about what they could all do together for the next three weeks that the band was in New York for. Although not much had happened passed their first real night in the city, the time had flown by much too fast. Minutes and hours didn't make a difference to their schedules as they were just patiently waiting for their next interview to swing around.
"She seems a lot happier," Michael spoke again.
Calum shot his eyes up to look at the girl across from him that Michael acted as though wasn't in earshot. She was laughing with Sierra about something and her attention was fully taken by it, her eyes glinting with interest and her body leaned toward Sierra to show she was listening.
"You're the least inconspicuous man I've ever met," Calum warned. Even with the tumultuous babble going on around the table, Michael's voice could still carry its own attention.
"And you're the most?" Michael exclaimed. "Mate, you've been ogling her all morning!"
Calum didn't fight back with a reply, he only lowered his eyes to the basket on the table to avoid drawing attention from the girl in question. She was wearing a gray halter top with dark high-waisted jeans that complimented her frame. Calum was having trouble not staring at her chest, which was pretty adequate considering how small she was in every other area, and he couldn't help but admire her.
The dark hair that framed her face and washed down her body kept him lured in with earnestness and curiosity that he didn't often feel. He was more than content with staring if it meant that he got to occasionally witness the rare toothy-grin she seldom gave.
"Hi, sorry." Calum raised his head to the left where the shy face instantly matched the shy voice.
A girl around their age stood with her phone clasped tightly in her hand–so tight that her knuckles were reddened ivory–and bright red cheeks. She gave all of them a polite smile and remained silent, watching everyone watch her with an almost fearful demeanor as though she would crumble under the intensity of being in the same room as them.
"Hello!" Michael greeted and gave a small wave. This prompted her to continue as if it was the final bit of reassurance that she wasn't imagining them being there, "I just wanted to say I'm a huge fan of you guys."
Ashton let out an adoring whine and he stood up to give her a full-body hug. "That's so sweet. Thank you so much!"
"You guys are my heroes if that doesn't sound too pathetic." She laughed.
"Not at all. What's your name, love?"
"Adrianne," The silver-haired girl responded. "Sierra, I'm also a huge fan. KayKay and Crystal, you both are so gorgeous."
The three girls beamed brightly up at her and responded with 'thank you's'.
"I'm sorry, I don't know your name." Adrianne set her sights on Reyna who was looking the other way until she realized she was being talked to.
"Oh, sorry. I'm Reyna." The raven-haired girl smiled politely and gave a small wave. Her twisting to look at the girl was dorky and awkward and Calum smiled slightly at her expense.
"Are you-" Adrianne trailed off and glanced between the two that sat at the table nearest to her.
"I'm just a friend of the band," Reyna answered quickly. Calum couldn't tell if her urgency was out of dismissive disgust or her being non-confrontational, but he preferred the latter. He'd feel soul-crushing embarrassment if it was due to the fact that she couldn't see him like that, although not a part of him could blame her.
“Ah, well. In that case, it’s so good to meet you too!” Adrianne giggled. Calum furrowed his eyebrows and pondered what case would possibly make it unpleasant to meet Reyna. In the midst of a burning orphanage or in an armed bank robbery wouldn't be pleasant, but the condition of their relationship couldn't possibly change where on the scale of 'good' meeting her was.
It wasn't uncommon for fans to show Calum more attention than the rest of his band. His relationship status being rather dormant like a dead mouse in some shed somewhere for nearly three years while his mates all had their person had, by default, left fewer options for everyone. Calum smiled politely at Adrianne as she spoke to the group, all the while looking at him with a hunger that left little to the imagination.
By the time the silver-haired girl had said goodbye and left the bagel shop, she had successfully slid a piece of paper with ten digits scribbled neatly across it in a not-so muted manner. The scrawl had obviously taken some time, every number formed uniformly to the one prior, and Calum studied it as the conversation ensued around him, none of the boys commenting on it as they left quick glances to Reyna who, much to his chagrin, looked entirely unbothered.
"You gonna call her?"
Calum's gaze trailed over Reyna smoothly, who was leaning with her elbows on the table and her chin in her palms as she grinned at him teasingly, and quirked an eyebrow in an almost challenging manner, "What's it to you, kid?"
"Just tired of watching you brood all the time. It's quite sad, like one of those shelter commercials. The only thing missing is the violin."
Calum stared at her with a chest that felt tight, the feeling like the excitement that was so uncontainable that he couldn't help but grin and tighten his throat to suppress a pathetic squeal that he would never be able to live down. All because she grinned at him with a brightness that emphasized her attention to the obvious irony she tried to highlight.
"Spend a lot of time watchin' me brood?" He replied easily, picking up his coffee and nursing it as he waited on her reply.
"So you aren't denying it?" Reyna confirmed, artfully evading his question. She straightened her back, "Maybe you should call her. It might be good for you."
Calum narrowed his eyes in mock contemplation and looked at the plants lining the wall to his left. It was a predicament in that he could almost say with a profound stoic certainty that what was definitely good for him was already hardly three feet across from him and shared a bed with him more than once, smiling at him like the Cheshire cat in triumph at his wordlessness. He wanted to prove her wrong and dispel her idea that she had, in fact, conjured the remedy to his "brooding", but he just couldn't disprove her and risk extinguishing the glint in her eyes as she peered at him expectantly. So he said nothing, letting her believe that he had some feigned interest in the silver-haired Adrianne, and finished his coffee.
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She often felt inextensible guilt late into the night. Reyna knew that as Calum laid beside her facing the closet wall he could feel the bed shake as her body shook with sobs. He was sleeping, this she knew by his soft snores that mixed with her sharp intakes of breath as she tried to calm herself down.
She always tried to hold it in, save these moments for when she was alone in the shower and the water slapping onto the tiles could scream above her whimpers, drowning them out so they couldn't act as an inconvenience to anyone else. Less than half of the time she was successful. Nights like these were the ones that drudged up the most guilt.
The sky was clear and the moon danced on the windows of buildings outside, waltzing in time with the city lights. Everything down below was an orderly chaos, people meandered on the sidewalks in the city that never sleeps chasing the nightlife. It was beautiful chaos that never failed to make her breathing ragged.
The guilt that Aaron couldn't see the sky because he was in a prison cell ate away any appreciation she could have of its beauty. The realization that she had let it drag on for so long and doing jackshit to help herself made her heart heavy. She had missed out on the best years of her life, she feared, for a man who did nothing but hurt her.
Guilt for what she went through. Guilt for what she was putting Calum through. She knew by his slight intake of breath when she had unsuccessfully wallowed silently. His reaction was always the same bittersweet ritual. He'd stretch his limbs out and yawn, before turning over and reaching his long arms around her waist, pulling her back into his chest. He'd snuggle his face into the crook of her neck, his breath fanning over the expanse of her shoulder and collarbones delicately, warming her cold frame endearingly.
His whispers of reassurance only made her cry harder every time. With a gravelly voice, he'd reassure that he was there and that she wasn't going through the night alone. All of these moments brought her the realization that if he was any other person on the planet, she wouldn't be capable of this type of catharsis.
But he was Calum. He was Calum and his arms were what she desperately needed in times like these to keep her from falling apart.
They shifted, her face burying into his bare chest and him wrapped around her shaking shoulders, pulling her impossibly closer. The pair selfishly, unbeknownst to the other, breathed each other in and Calum's fingers clenched the fabric of her clothes.
"I hate how you have to hold me like I might blow away," she whispered, voice hoarse and tired.
His muscles tensed and he groped her frame tighter to him. Reyna knew it was cruel to put him through this. He was a busy man who barely got enough sleep as it was prior to when she kept him awake at night worrying over her feeble sobs that didn't seem to dissipate with how many weeks went by. She thought of how unfair it was for him to have to endure the pain with her when he had nothing to do with it. She imagined his thoughts as griping and irritated, impatiently waiting for her to get over it.
What she couldn't imagine was how his heart felt possibly heavier than hers at the knowledge that his hold on her that was vice-like wasn't to keep her there with him but to go with her when she did. Not once had he ever hushed her cries, he just rubbed her back and urged her to let everything she could out in hopes that it would get her closer to falling asleep with a smile.
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She had been ugly crying for what felt like hours until she finally put herself together enough to sit up in the bed that she had only slept in once. The type of cry where your mouth was open but no sound came out, a full breath being impossible to get and you settled for small gasps.
Her closet was still bare and the apartment felt like a communal hotel room that you could share with complete strangers. Almost like uberpool, she somehow trusted them not to murder her until she got to her destination, wherever that destination was for her, even though she couldn't say she entirely minded the brutal prospect of being killed in her sleep at that very moment.
Her throat was dry and scratchy and as she dried her tears and eventually managed to space out her breaths, she stood from her bed and walked to the door. Maybe the fact that her eyes were swollen to a point nearly comparable to anaphylaxis–or because her brain felt hollow–she didn't notice the white light spilling into her room from under the crack in the door.
Calum stood in the bathroom, conveniently placed directly across the hall, and was fiddling with the bandages on his face. When he heard her door open, he looked at her in surprise before it quickly was squashed with concern and apprehension.
He didn't ask what she knew he was itching to and that small act of decency saved her from wanting to pull her own hair out. 'Are you okay' was always the most idiotic thing that had ever come out of Aaron's mouth after she had been crying. He was a lot dumber than he looked and Reyna was grateful Calum wasn't the same way.
"Did I wake you?" He asked instead, as though the light she hadn't noticed under the door had been such a burden, as though her face wasn't red, tear-stained, and raw.
She stared at him like he was a cartoon character brought to life and maybe it was the lack of sleep that left her emotionally limited, but she couldn't hold back the amused giggle that left her lips. His question was an attempt to take the weight off of her, this sweet man who didn't know anything about her was so in tune with her simply because she was human, the complexity of which wasn't that much of an enigma at all.
Her emotional well was dry. The kind of exhaustion she felt was manic, the type that released the wrong emotion in the least opportune setting simply because there weren't any other banks of emotions to draw from.
"Just needed some water," her voice sounded like absolute hell. "Would you like help?"
His fingers were too large to properly grasp the edges of the bandages on his face. They were lifting enough to need to be trimmed, but not enough that it would be an easy task to do by himself. Not that it was easy to do in the first place, her knowing about it all too well.
"I-" Calum started, opening and closing his mouth like a guppy and fiddling with the bandage on his face some more until he gave up, sighing and facing her. "That would be great, actually."
She gave him a soft smile and approached him, studying the butterflies across his face to see what she was working with.
"Can you sit on the toilet?" She requested as she started the tap to wash her hands. He was a fair bit taller than her–fair being inconsiderate as he towered over her like an ent–and she had no premeditated intentions on poking his eyes out with the bulky kitchen scissors.
The proximity had her holding her breath as she moved to in between his legs. Her hand cradled his face as she gently motioned for him to look up slightly and she fiddled gently with the white bandages that were a stark contrast to his brown skin.
"You've been crying."
It wasn't a question, only a bleak observation that had her clearing her throat awkwardly.
"Yeah," she reached for the scissors on the counter and gently peeled back the highest one, "You sanitized these, right?"
He gave her a soft small and reached for the isopropyl on the counter, shaking it in confirmation.
"Good." She whispered and got to work maneuvering around his wounds.
The silence between them was deafening and the only thing that broke it was the snipping of the scissors. He sat with his eyes closed and his head leaned back, giving her an opportunity to really look at him without being fearful of making uncouth eye contact. She frowned at the sight of the green and blue mixing with yellow in his face and the gash underneath the bandages. It was a conscious effort to keep her touch on his light as she didn't want to cause him any unnecessary pain.
Nearing the last bandage, she noticed the small moles on his cheek that created their own miniature constellation, ensuring that his face was as unique as it could possibly be. She watched as his Adam's apple bobbed and clipped the last straggling bandage before letting out a breath and stepping away.
When he opened his brown eyes that had a million hues he met her gaze before she quickly looked away and down to the floor. She didn't want to get lost studying the flecks of color in them or compare their warmth to the piercing green that she was accustomed to. It didn't feel right to her and she felt sick as her mind wandered back to Aaron.
"You'll be good to take them off tomorrow night or the next morning if you move a lot in your sleep. They look like they're healing pretty well." She turned on the tap again and washed the scissors and her hands.
"Where'd you learn to do this stuff?" His curiosity was ever so present and Reyna looked at him as he stood, reveling briefly at the way his hair curled around his ears and at the way his broad shoulders moved forward.
She allowed herself to think fondly of them with a small smile, a comparison to the entire year and a half before "My parents."
The air was heavier somehow. His body language faced her fully while his mind seemed to be somewhere else, the brown irises swimming with contemplation. She wanted to know what was running through his head: what warranted the silence that came after she mentioned her parents that seemed so distant from her now. They were fading memoirs now. Her mother's short, yet demanding stature with black hair and bangs made her look years younger than her father who looked like her exact opposite. Tall, fair-skinned, with eyes that were green and gray and blue.
"Thank you," he spoke with a tone barely louder than the quiet, holding her gaze in the mirror with an expression of sincerity.
"It's really the least I can do."
And he would hear her say this an uncountable amount of times, but he'd never tire of it.
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Reyna wasn't very much of a drinker. Occasionally, she would open a bottle of wine or dig the tequila out from under the sink, hidden with Lysol bottles, dish soap that doubled as hand soap, and extra ninety-nine cent sponges. The tequila was always saved for particularly difficult nights and it was in such an inconspicuous place because it was one of the three things she had all to herself. Books and the cleaning supplies were the other two as Aaron would be sooner caught actually attending his NA meetings before he would go anywhere near either of those.
Her first paycheck wasn't huge by any means, but Reyna was proud of it. After putting over half of it in the fund to pay Calum back–which she was afraid she'd never be able to fully achieve–and buying four new books, she also invested in four bottles of wine.
That purchase is what brought her to the kitchen floor at three in the morning, her and KayKay wine drunk and spewing out nonsense stories that had them in that weirdly satisfying limbo somewhere between crying and laughing.
Reyna barely had self-control when it came to sweet things that she could actually ingest and being sat next to a bowl of cookie dough for five minutes because they had forgotten to preheat the oven was a serious test of her willpower.
KayKay, being the wise person she was, suggested that they were celebrating, which didn't require abstinence of any kind, and took the first pinch of cookie dough. That brave first step had Reyna cracking and she indulged herself.
"My dad and I used to bake all the time. His favorite was a tiramisu." KayKay giggled and took another sip, cringing at the taste.
"Was it good?" Reyna inquired while swirling her own drink in the cheap wine glasses she had bought for this occasion.
"God no." KayKay chuckled. "It was awful every time and he couldn't seem to get it right. As a chef? He was an absolute power to be reckoned with. Not so much as a baker." The girl smiled fondly.
"Well, this cookie dough is fucking fantastic so I think we pass as semi-decent bakers," Reyna offered and grabbed a piece of the dough before popping it into her mouth. Not ever being great at proving her point, she gagged when it settled on her tongue. "Not so incredible when mixed with wine."
KayKay cackled at Reyna's facial features all scrunched up and pug-like. Leaning her head against the cupboard, Reyna smiled fondly at the girl who had completely lost it, drunken giggles stumbling from between her cherry lips and eyes screwed shut tightly.
For the first time in a while, she felt fortuitous. The girl next to her was one of the most incredible people she had ever met. Her mind weaved entire stories and poems that were art forms in and of itself, but the pieces she expressed were in a new realm. Reyna was lucky enough to be next to her and sharing space with her, it was only a plus that she was able to actually talk to her and discover more. Her kindness amounted to surpassing astronomically and she was the person that Reyna could consider a friend.
Wonders truly do never cease, Reyna thought.
“Yanno, I dated this guy before Ashton,” KayKay recovered and snatched more cookie dough from the bowl, “I depended on him for absolutely everything and I always felt so guilty about it. My parents raised me to be self-sufficient, but I somehow managed to erase their hard work because of this one guy.”
Reyna nodded along, the story sounding hauntingly familiar, “I knew he wasn’t right for me but I wanted him to be so desperately that I stayed. It caused a huge rift between me and my parents. They weren’t angry or anything, just the most disappointed in me that I’ve ever seen them, and that was somehow so much worse.
“I eventually broke up with him nearly a year after everything and started to reconnect with mom and dad, and then dad got sick.” She poured herself another glass full of wine, finishing off her bottle and taking a large gulp before she continued.
“I hate myself a little less every day, but I can’t help but think about how much time I wasted. Ashton got to meet him before- I just wish it was when he was at his best.” Reyna wrapped her arms around the girl, reveling in an inexplicable way that she was softly smiling while recalling something so terrible. Maybe it was the wine.
“I hate that you had to go through that,” Reyna whispered in her hair.
“Me too. I realized how much I hated depending on a man for happiness and so did my dad, but at one point my dad was that man. He never hurt me and I know I hurt him, but I think dependability can be miraculous if it’s done with the right person at the right time.” KayKay’s smile continued to beam and Reyna knew who she was thinking of without a word needing to be said.
“You guys are good for each other.” The prodigious condition of their relationship was enviable. They were two souls that just clicked, and although Reyna was too cynical to believe in soulmates, they were the closest exemplar.
“How do you feel about Cal?”
Reyna was silent and wide-eyed for a moment, suddenly coming to the realization that she hadn’t drunk as much liquid courage as the other girl had, and threw her head back to finish off her wine before pouring another glass.
“He’s one of the best men I’ve ever met,” she paused and drank more, “And I’m lucky that he sees me as a friend, at least I hope he does.”
“He likes you a lot more than that.”
Reyna shook her head in disbelief. There was absolutely no chance in hell that the man who was more physically appealing than a sculpted god had any interest in her. He was intelligent and witty, and those two things don’t bode well when paired with her. Only broken boys liked broken girls, the ones that sold drugs in alleyways and had multiple black hoodies but only a few pairs of pants. “We’re just friends.”
“No, Rey. Cal and I are just friends. You and I are just friends–"
"Really? I was starting to get my hopes up."
KayKay ignores her comment with an unamused stare, "He doesn’t look at me the way he constantly gawks at you. He doesn’t care about me like he cares about you.” She sat up on her knees with newfound energy, grabbing another ball of cookie dough. “Look, I’ve been around Calum long enough to know when he’s interested in someone. He has never treated anyone the way he treats you. Trust me, Ash and I have tried to set him up with our friends and he just isn’t- it never clicks.”
Reyna stared at the girl and recounted everything she said. She could certainly feel the wine kicking in as her face felt like it was on fire. Mind swirling with speeding thoughts, all of them going on different tangents as she tried to get a grip.
Calum liking her was like winning the Powerball lottery. Not only was his affection more than she could ask for in a single lifetime, but it was also next to impossible to win. She had a better chance of being struck by lightning or having a grand piano dropped on her head, both of which had a larger probability than Calum liking her more than a friend. Wanting what every young heart sought after, she wanted something beautiful to find her beautiful, but she didn't think that something was Calum.
“Alright, I’m gonna put these into balls before we don’t have any dough left to make actual cookies.” Reyna quickly evacuated herself from the hardwood floor and got to work.
Less than half the dough was left so it made about six cookies, which she would be lying if she said she wasn't disappointed. She placed them in the oven, her current state making her overly cautious about burning herself, and set a timer. Looking at the girl on the floor with pity, Reyna wobbled over to where KayKay was leaning against the cupboard with her eyes closed.
"You hanging in there?" Reyna smiled sympathetically, finding humor in the blissed-out smile adorning her lips.
She burst into a fit of drunken giggles before opening her eyes into a squint and Reyna knew at that point how insanely drunk she actually was. "I'm amazing."
Reyna smiled and crouched in front of her–albeit, very haphazardly– and placed her hands on KayKay's knees. "Wanna eat these in the morning? It could be a good hangover snack, plus I think we should get you to bed." Hoping to coax the overly happy girl within reason.
"No, I'm having so much fun." She protested petulantly.
"So am I," Reyna stood and got a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water before crouching down again, "I have tomorrow and the day after off, we can have more fun then."
"But it's fun now," whinging and throwing her head back in childish refusal, her head came in contact with the cabinet and she mewled a pathetic 'ow'. Reyna watched and cringed knowing it would only add to her headache in the morning.
"Okay, but if you go to sleep you can cuddle with Ashton." Bribing her drunk friend wasn't something she was proud of but she doubted she would remember it anyway. She practically basked that moral gray area.
"You're evil." KayKay narrowed her already-narrowed eyes at her.
"But I'm never wrong. Let's get you to the bathroom to brush your teeth and then get you to bed." Reyna coaxed.
The girl on the floor sighed and closed her eyes in preparation for hauling herself off the floor.
Before long, KayKay breathed and reached her hand out to grasp the countertop but instead grabbed on to the end of the extra baking sheets Reyna had taken out of the oven. Under KayKay's weighted grasp, the pans flipped and, much to Reyna's horror landed on the floor with a loud smack.
"Shit." KayKay groaned at the noise.
In a drunkenly panicked frenzy, Reyna scurried to pick up the pan lying on the floor facedown hopelessly. The damage had already been done, that much being obvious by the curly-haired boy who stood in the hallway entrance shortly after with his eyes squinted sleepily at the bright kitchen lights.
Reyna could feel her cheeks flush, adding on to the rosiness that was elicited from the alcohol. "Sorry," she fumbled with her eyebrows pinched together and hair stuck to her chapstick-coated lips as she held the pan to her chest apologetically, "Were we– we can– did we wake you? Stupid question. We were just– Sorry. Sorry." Reyna stammered pathetically.
"Are you sorry about something? I really couldn't tell." Calum jested, walking further into the kitchen.
Reyna said nothing and did even less than that, holding her breath anxiously as she watched him with blurry eyes. His hair was all over the place, having become his signature look after he slept on it damp from taking a shower just before bed, and his toned torso was on full display for her to eat up like she was starved. She was disappointed that his legs were hidden beneath sweats–the ones she borrowed her second night there– and she had to admit that they looked much better on him.
"Jesus, KayKay," the boy chuckled as he rounded the counter and took in the disheveled girl on the floor, "Need some help?"
"I'm literally fine," KayKay grumbled and attempted to stand and nearly fell right back onto her ass. Reyna placed the pan on the counter, holding out her arms to support her friend before looking at Calum, "Would you? She needs to brush her teeth first."
He, of course, obliged, helping her down the hall and into the bathroom before flicking on the light and putting toothpaste on her toothbrush for her. Reyna remained in the kitchen making piss-poor attempts at grasping onto her cognitive abilities. She stayed in the middle of the floor and sighed out the breath she held, her attraction for the man down the hall increasing like her blood-alcohol levels.
Pushing her crude thoughts to the back of her mind, she grabbed a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water before trekking down the hall and meeting the two by KayKay and Ashton's bedroom door. "Drink this, please."
KayKay groaned but acquiesced, grasping the glass and taking small sips. Reyna abandoned them again to grab acetaminophen from the bathroom cabinet and forcing her to take it. Sending her to bed was the easy part, all Reyna had to do was take the glass and open the door, although she watched her until she was safely tucked into Ashton's side.
When she shut the door, she turned to find Calum's gaze fixed on her. She gave him a weird look as she tried desperately to decipher what the look in his eyes meant. His earthy hues held something she'd never seen and instead of staring to figure it out, she took a mental screenshot before walking passed him into the kitchen.
He followed her at a distance, her aware of his piercing gaze digging into her back as she cleaned up the wine glasses and bottles from the floor. When she finally turned, he was much closer than she thought he'd be. Bathed in white light, he did nothing but stare at her from beside the fridge with that impossible-to-understand look in his eye.
"Have fun?" He quirked an eyebrow at her and gestured to the bottle of wine with only a few swigs left in it.
"I did," she felt her face heat up under his scrutiny, "Although I'm sure we're both going to be paying for it tomorrow."
It bothered her how he could be so silent, yet speak so loudly with his body language and facial expressions. She was getting better at speaking his language, but at that moment in time when her head was waltzing with the alcohol in her veins, she hadn't a clue what his smirks and glances meant.
He moved closer, "You seem to be less of a lightweight than I thought."
Her mouth fell open in mock offense and a gasp escaped her, "I'll have you know that I can hold my alcohol really well. At least I'm good at pretending like I can."
Calum smiled and leaned his lower back up against the counter comfortably, an action that had Reyna pouting as the surface easily was level with her waist. His eyes flickered to her pouting lips briefly before dragging back up to hold her gaze steadily, "Kind of wishing you weren't drunk right now."
Reyna cocked her head and grasped her bottle of wine. Putting the cork back into the bottle was never her strong suit and she rarely ever needed to practice that skill since she typically opted for just finishing the bottle, "I'm not drunk, just a little inebriated."
Calum laughed, "Using synonyms won't soften the fact that you're pretty fucked up." He grabbed the neck of the bottle she held close to her for leverage, causing her to look at him once again.
She was desperately trying and desperately failing to avoid all contact with his chocolate orbs but like a magnet, she was stuck in them. Calum worked the cork back into the wine bottle with ease and she admired the way the muscles in his forearms flexed and relaxed at the motion. "Why?"
He didn't answer until he put the bottle into the fridge and let out a breath. "Don't worry about it, Rey. It just slipped out."
"You can't just say that," She whined childishly, her features forming into another pout. "It makes me wonder about it more. Tell me."
"No," Calum shook his head, "Let's just go to bed."
"Drunk me is even more persistent than sober me so we're going to be here until you tell me." Reyna placed her hands on the counter behind her and jumped up onto it. She swung her legs casually and peered around the room, pretending not to care that he was staring at her with narrowed and amused eyes.
"Not a chance," Calum spoke and stood in front of her with his arms out to her, "Let's go."
"Not a chance."
"Reyna," he rolled his eyes in feigned annoyance at her mocking him in a purposely shitty Australian accent. The small amused grin that played on his full lips betrayed him, and Reyna couldn’t help but bite hers to fight back her own smile, "I'm tired." He closed the distance between them, nearly standing in between her legs.
"Absolutely nothing is stopping you from going to bed," slipped from her mouth, while what she was really thinking was something along the lines of, 'Holy fuck this man is breathtaking.'
She admired him through her lashes as he towered over her. His height was a small detail that intimidated her at first, but it soon turned into one of the things she found impossibly sexually appealing about him. His face had since healed and left his skin smoothly flawless. The scruff that dusted along his jaw had excitement bubbling in her stomach as she waited in anticipation for him to say something.
His thick eyebrows were in a straight line as he concentrated on her face in deep contemplation, “You really want to know?”
She swore that his eyes flickered to her lips for a second before flashing back to her eyes. Reyna held her breath, her head spinning from both the alcohol and his proximity to her. His cologne was comforting and familiar, relaxing her effortlessly. She nodded wordlessly.
This time, she knew she hadn’t imagined his gaze flicker to her lips as he held it there for a moment, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek gently. His hand was colder than her flushed face, but somehow still managed to send heat coursing through her entire body. Three of his fingers grazed her neck because of how large they were, sending a sensation like electricity to her heart that was beating wildly in her throat.
She parted her lips as he leaned in closer to her, his nose brushing against hers and his bated breath fanning over her face, “Because I really want to fucking kiss you right now.”
If Reyna held her breath any longer she would pass out. Physically, Calum was an Adonis that had her invariably captivated. What piqued her otherwise repressed deeper attraction to him was his mind; capable of writing lyrics straight from his heart onto a page and caring about perfect strangers, not once taking into consideration what he would get out of it.
Her brown eyes met his before she looked down at his lips, then back up again. She thought it had to be some sick joke; somehow cameras would appear out of the cupboards and she’ll have been crowned the most gullible woman to ever walk the earth.
"I want you to kiss me.”
“You’re drunk,” he breathed, making no attempt to widen the gap between them.
Reyna chewed on the inside of her cheek and contemplated how to get this idiot to kiss her already. She appreciated his self-control and his chivalry that usually made her like him even more, but in that moment it was difficult for her not to throw her head back in frustration.
She knew by the way his eyes skipped between hers that were drinking him up and her lips that he was skeptical. Worry was indisputably formed in the crease of his brow and his nervous gnawing on his bottom lip. He was worried that she wouldn’t remember it or that she would regret it.
She wished more than anything that he could hear her thoughts, how they raced rampantly with fantasies of him in her head. She wished he could be in her head so he could feel the electricity that his hand on her cheek brought, or the security she felt of being trapped in between his body and the counter. The feeling she had was unforgettable and something she had never felt before.
“I’ve wanted you to kiss me.”
His face scrunched up into a happy grin, genuinely relieved by her admittance. Her hands smoothed up his chest and onto his shoulders, one moving to the nape of his neck and pulling his face closer to hers until she finally-finally-felt his pillowy lips on hers. Neither of them moved, testing the waters that had her skin alight.
She was the first to pull him impossibly closer and they moved their lips together. The need to breathe was shoved to the back of their minds and he placed the hand that stabilized him on her waist, gently rubbing her side over her shirt.
Loud fireworks popped off in her head, feeling fuzzy like the smoke that’s left behind in the air. Her legs acted on their own accord as her knees pulled him to her, fervently savoring the feeling of having him like this.
The world was forgotten, so she felt, and all she could sense was him. Her being so deep in the treacherous waters had her nearly jumping out of her skin and clinging to him with a squeal when the timer on the oven bulldozed the moment they were having. Calum laughed and snaked both of his muscular arms around her waist and hugged her to him.
She breathed heavily and laid her forehead on his chest, reveling in the rhythmic rise and fall that assured her that she had actually just kissed him.
With an airy chuckle he smoothed his hand over her hair and down her back, before pulling away to look at her beautiful face, “Your cookies are done.”
