Entitlement. This girl reeked of it. Her slicked back hair, her perfectly done winged liner, the way she looked at Callie as if she were well practiced in organizing the world around her into a hierarchical pyramid where she always came out on top. It was clear she thought Calum’s world was waiting in a quiet limbo for her return, that she could just waltz back into his life as she pleased. It pissed her off that Moose approached her, accepted attention, though of course she did, that dog was a ham for attention from any source. But it was a piece of an environment that embraced Val and made her feel comfortable. And Callie didn’t want this girl to ever feel comfortable in this apartment again. “Mmm you’re right. My name doesn’t matter.” Callie wears her anger in furrowed brows, thin set lips, in a bubbling steely glare as she slides down from the kitchen counter. “A guest should never overstay their welcome, you’re right, you’re right. I should go home.”
Moose lets out a confused whine as Callie heads for the door. Her coat hangs on the coat rack she bought everyone for Christmas, and she works one arm into it as she pulls the front door open. She puts one foot over the threshold into the hallway, then pivots, turning and sashaying right back into the apartment and closing the door behind her. “Gosh it feels so good to be home,” she purrs, jacket half on, her feet bare, her smile cold and unfriendly as she sets her sights on Val. “Tell me Val. You and Cal were together for a while right…but you never lived here did you? I don’t think, if I’m recalling correctly, that you even got a key of your own.” Callie let’s out a pitying sigh and tilts her head as she pulls her own house key out of the coat pocket. “This is my key. Because you see, I live here.” Her hand moves around, pointing out items and details along the kitchen and the living room. “Those are my books, that’s my coffee cup, those are my favorite pair of slippers. And the bedroom. That belongs to me and Calum. My clothes in the closet next to his. My picture in the frames where you’re used to seeing yourself. You, Val, do not live here. You are the guest that has been here less than two minutes and is dangerously close to overstaying her welcome.”
Callie shrugs her coat off again, heads back to the kitchen and begins making herself a cup of tea. “So here’s the deal Princess Val. There’s two people in this room and only one of us actually lives here. Now…I’m kind of new to playing hostess, really new in fact, but I guess I can put my entertainer hat on for a bit if you’re absolutely insistent on waiting here for Calum to come home. I’ll even offer you a cup of tea, the whole nine yards.” Callie turns, clutching her mug of tea with both hands. And as she takes her first sip there is an audible tap tapping of the silver ring on her ring finger moving against the mug. And oh hell yes was it done on purpose. “By all means, dumpling, sit down on the couch, get comfortable. But do not make yourself at home because you aren’t staying. And if you touch my dog again I will slap those drawn on brows and those overlined lips right off your fucking face.”
Val was not impressed with the theatrics. Out into the hall, back into the apartment. Did she want an award for her big reveal? Funny though, that she’d guessed right about what kind of house guest she was. Calum really did have a type.
Her anger was carefully contained behind a face void of emotion, except for the tension in her lips and the look of absolute death in her eyes. Not just at the key or the additional crap in the apartment, but the fucking attitude on this one. As far as she was concerned, Val had done her time; she’d put in the work, and she had just as much right to be there as whoever the fuck this was.
She waited for Suzy Homemaker to say her peace before taking slow steps toward the girl, stopping when she was just closer than arms-length. Val easily had a few inches on her, and with her boots, a few inches more. “So you’re playing house... good for you,” she said with a quirk of her brow. “You can pretend that you belong here all you want, but that won’t make it true. And as much as you think you do, you don’t know shit about my relationship.”
She continued to stare the girl down as she took a few steps backward and then turned on her heel. Pausing to give Moose another another pat and and scratch, she shot the brunette a look over her shoulder, daring her to say something... do something. “Tell Cal I said ‘hi,’” she said, a lot sweeter than her last words. Grabbing her bag from the floor where it’d been dumped earlier, she exited without looking back. Her jaw clenched, eyes finally conveying the vulnerability that she felt, and a sick feeling swirled in her gut — maybe this time it was beyond her control.
