You often find yourself laying on the couch in the evenings while you're waiting for Luke to come home. Watching re-runs of bad TV, playing on your phone, reading. Tonight you’re particularly engrossed in an old episode of That’s So Raven as you wait for him.
When eventfully walks through the door, he barely speaks - nothing more than a mumbled "hi baby" - before kicking off his shoes and dumping his jacket wherever it will land. He wastes no time hurrying to the couch and laying flat on top of you. His front is flush against your back and he frees your hands from the remote and holds them gently in his own.
"You're heavier than you look, you know," you tell him, his cheek pressed against the middle of your shoulder blades. He lets out a sigh; he knows but he doesn't care. Neither do you.
"I'm so sleepy," he whispers into the back of your neck. "You're so warm."
"Don't fall asleep on me," you tell him. He huffs in amusement while his grip on your hands tightens for a brief moment before he lets go again. "How was your day?"
"Fine," he says, his words now muffled by your hair. "Long."
His voice is slow and deep, heavy from being so tired. You can feel his breathing evening out and his grip on your hands becoming looser, indicating that he was going to fall asleep any moment.
"That's good to hear," you begin in attempt to keep him awake. Just long enough to have a shower and climb into an actual bed. "What made you so tired?"
"Dunno," he whispers and although you can't see him, you know his eyes are shut. He's mouth has fallen into the smallest pout as he fights sleep. "I'm just gonna go to sleep."
"Here?" you ask. He hums in acknowledgement and then he's silent. You're tempted to get him up and move him to bed but he seems too comfortable to move. "Okay."
He's asleep within moments. He never loses his grip on your hands, his cheek remains firmly pressed into your back. At first you don’t mind, but after 15 minutes of the dead weight on your back, you start to ache.
"Luke," you groan, nudging him with your elbow. "Lukey babe. Can we move?"
"No," he whines quietly, "I wanna stay."
"You're hurting me," you huff, nudging him again. He groans loudly before rolling off you, planting his feet flatly on the floor before he drags them to your bedroom.
"Are you coming?" he impatiently calls over his shoulder when he notices you haven’t followed. You let out a small giggle before rolling off the lounge yourself and following your sleepy boyfriend. "I'm so tired."
"Yeah, yeah," you mumble as your hands make their way around his waist. "We can sleep properly now."
The radio would be on when Calum entered your shared apartment, and he could see a blur of someone flashing around in the kitchen in rhythm to Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer. He could not help the smiled that spread across his face. “Hi babe, I’m home” he called out in the stereotype singsong voice, and immediately after he herd a soft “Oh shit” almost drowned out by the music coming from the radio. You turned the volume down and went to hug him. “You’re happy today” he stated. “Well, yes. This music makes me want to dance and it really just made me happy.” you said with so much joy in your voice that he could not help himself and kissed your lips.
As you stood in the middle of the kitchen floor with one of Calums hands on your waist the other holding your hand. A classic dance stance, as some cheesy song you had heard played at a wedding once, was filling the apartment. “Okay you need to hold me like this and then move like so” He tried to explain to you, as you looked down on your feet trying to get it right. Soon you looked up as Calum had detached his hand from yours and had a finger under your chin pushing slightly upwards. “You’ve also got to look at me” he smiled. “I can only do one thing at the time. This was a lot harder than you said” was your reply. “Okay, new strategy. Step up on my feet” the smile did not leave his face. You deadpanned “Seriously?” “Yes, now do it before the song ends” You quickly stepped up and he started waltzing you around.
The both of you laugh as you often slip down from his foot, and just decide to link your arms around his neck and laugh as he shuffles across the cramped space until the song ends. As you get down you take a good look into his deep crinkled eyes, suddenly the radio host that is talking seems to fade away. With hands now surrounding his waist, you take a deep breath. “Hey, Calum?” he gets a small furrow between his brows as if sensing all the worries racing through your head. “Yeah?” the word falls softly from his lips. “I love you. A lot.” a broad grin makes its way onto his face. “I love you to, so very very much.”
