Permanent Chase - Part Three
author: @etherealhood
word count: 10,175
warnings: fluff, angst
a/n: and we’re back with another part of permanent chase! yes i included some of outlander’s plot line because that show’s the shit. also, this is really sweet because the guys are introduced so i hope you love this part as much as i do! thank you so much for the love on this, enjoy!
As Malia’s eyes looked over the fresh produce in front of her, she was pleased to see the ripe looking avocados. She picked up one that caught her eye and squeezed it, making sure it wasn’t too hard nor too soft. Satisfied, she placed that avocado and a few more that she’d deemed worthy into the bag along with her other fruits and vegetables, bringing it to the vendor who was selling produce.
“Thank you, keep the change.” She smiled kindly after she’d handed him the money, walking away with Atlas’ leash in her hand. He walked alongside her, his paws pattering against the pavement of the farmer’s market that she visited every Saturday, knowing that those were the best days for getting her errands done, and one of those tasks included grocery shopping. Looking down at Atlas, she saw his tongue hanging out of his mouth, a doggy-smile on his face. She chuckled as he sniffed at the ground and then sneezed afterwards.
It’d been almost a week since she’d met Calum, and ever since, he was the only thing on her mind. She kept thinking of the little things he did that night at the bar that reminded her of the man she married. The way his eyes would squint when he laughed, the way he smiled so brightly that it lit up the room, the way he seemed to be so caring and concerned for her after spilling his drink all over her. She’d also thought of him and the new person he’d become, the person he was in this life.
His body was painted with tattoos, some that she’d asked the meaning of. She’d caught a glimpse of the feather tattoo that was on his collarbone peeking out from his shirt and learned that it was supposed to be a silver fern for his mother. She’d asked who Mali-Koa was when she saw the name on his left arm and he told her it was her sister. He’d caught her looking at the three letters between his thumb and index finger and started talking about how it was his parents’ initials. He wore his leather jacket and his metal rings, holding himself confidently. He was like the sun, so radiant, so warm and she always loved that about him. He was pure energy, drawing her in like he’d done so many times before.
She learned that he was from Australia and had moved to Los Angeles when he was only a teenager. He didn’t dive into why he was living in Los Angeles, but he did tell her that his three best friends came along with him. He told her about his dog, Duke, who he was pretty sure was the love of his life. He told her about his love for music and his job at a music shop not too far from the bar.
Her thoughts were pulled from her soulmate as she saw that Atlas had started walking ahead of her, sniffing at the ground as he typically did when they were out of the house. His leash had gone under his legs and she didn’t want him to get tangled up like he had countless times already, so she bent down, unwrapping the rope from his legs. “You’ve gotta stop doing that, it’s getting ridiculous.” She sighed, the icy blue-eyed dog looking up at her and panting happily. “We should get home, huh, buddy?”
Standing back up, she looked at him for a quick second as they started walking in the direction of the car. Apparently, that quick second was enough time for her to walk into someone. “Woah.” She mumbled as she stepped back, the person she’d walked in to turning around and looking at her. A familiar man turned around, a small, confused frown on his face. His dark eyebrows were furrowed, but relaxed as recognition washed over him upon meeting Malia’s bright green eyes.
He turned around to face her, standing tall before her. “You know, you’ve got a bad habit of not looking where you’re going.” Calum smirked, his frown melting away as he teased Malia.
With a soft laugh, she shook her head and looked at him. “Excuse me, but last time was your fault.”
“Okay, you’ve got me there.” He nodded, accepting what she was pinning on him. He felt snorts of air on his hand and his bushy brows furrowed again and he looked down, seeing Atlas sniffing at his hand. The little dog looked up at him, his bright eyes blowing Calum away. He bent down, getting on one knee to rub at Atlas’ jaw. “And who is this little guy?”
“His name is Atlas. I adopted him when I moved here.” She smiled as Atlas started licking at Calum’s hands, chuckles falling from Calum.
“When was that?” He asked, scratching behind Atlas’ ears, the dog relishing in his touch, his head leaning into Calum’s palm.
Malia shrugged and thought back to when she’d moved from Seattle to Los Angeles. “I don’t know. I think it was like eight months ago. I got a job opportunity with an old friend, so I figured I’d come back down here.”
Calum stood up to fully engage in the conversation with Malia, giving Atlas a pat on the head. “Where’d you-” He was cut off by a hand clapping on his left shoulder, a loud voice interrupting him.
“Cal! We thought we’d lost ya there for a second.” The man said, Malia instantly recognized the honey-haired man as the one she’d met at the bar the night she met Calum. He looked from Calum to her and his mouth parted, a bit of surprise flickering in his eyes. He shook away the shock and smiled at her. “Now I know why. It’s Malia, right? I’m Ashton.”
Malia nodded and returned his friendly expression as he stuck his hand out for her. “It’s nice to see you again, Ashton.” She adjusted the bag on her shoulder and shook his hand before letting go.
“Oh my god!” The three heard someone exclaim. They looked over to see a tall, blonde man looking at her in amazement. “Malia?” Her eyes widened upon seeing another one of the men from her life in Italy. Luke looked at her, the complete and utter confusion on his face, his blonde eyebrows scrunched up together.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Calum tilt his head slightly, sort of confused as to how his friend knew this awesome woman that he himself had only just met. How Luke knew her and how Calum had never heard of this girl, was beyond him. Malia was frozen, not exactly knowing how to approach the situation, not knowing how she was going to get herself out of this one.
Thankfully, Ashton seemed to notice the awkwardness and he was quick to cut in before either Calum or Luke made things more difficult for Malia. “So, Malia, what are you up to tonight? If you don’t have any plans, you should come to my place. I’m having a party, we’ll all be there.”
Malia kept her eyes off of Luke, knowing that if they made eye contact, he’d say something. “Is it someone’s birthday?” She asked, looking between Calum and Ashton.
“No, just felt like having a party.” Ashton told her, giving her a small smile. “So are you free? I know someone,” He nodded his head in Calum’s direction. “who would love to see you.”
With a chuckle, Malia looked at the dark-haired man who was rolling his eyes, scratching the back of his neck. He seemed to almost shoot daggers at Ashton, but then he looked at her with a sheepish smile. “I would like to see you tonight.”
Calum’s nervousness and embarrassment was very apparent. To some it might be weird because he has this thick aura of confidence, but Malia knew that he got flustered easily. He always did. She smiled at him, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth as she looked up at him. “I’ll be there.”
“Great! I’ll send you the details later?” He asked to which she replied with a nod.
“We should actually get going, we’ve got lots to do before tonight.” Ashton said to Calum. He then directed his gaze back to the green-eyed woman who his friend hadn’t stopped talking about since last weekend. “It was nice to see you again, Malia.”
“You too, Ash.” She said, not realizing she’d let his nickname slip until he gave her a nostalgic smile. She looked back at Luke, who was looking her up and down, almost as if he was trying to confirm her identity.
Ashton grabbed Luke’s arm, pulling him away from Calum and Malia. “Well, we’ll let you say goodbye to each other.” He dragged Luke behind him, whispering something to him as they got further away.
Calum popped back into her line of vision and gave her an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about that. Ash… well, he’s just very outgoing. And I haven’t been talking you non-stop.” He said, adding on the last part quickly.
“You’re a liar.” Malia giggles, calling him out on his fib. He only returned her laugh and nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, you’re right.” He licked his lips and stared at her, seemingly comfortable with just being around her, just looking at her. He cleared his throat, snapping out of his trance. “Um, I should probably get going.”
“I’ll see you tonight?”
Calum nodded, his hands in his pockets. “I’ll see you tonight. Bye, Malia.”
“Bye, Calum.” She smiled, watching him turn and walk away.
-
When Malia pulled up to the house, she didn’t feel the need to confirm the address Calum had texted her with the address in the house. With the people stumbling around the yard and the loud music spilling into the street, Malia had a very strong feeling she was in the right place.
Getting out of her car, she shoved her cell phone in her back pocket, locking the car as she approached the house. She pushed open the front door and walked in, her nostrils instantly flooded with the strong aroma of sweat, alcohol, and different kinds of smoke. She scrunched up her nose, not at all used to the smell that she was drowning in.
“God, I’m old.” She mumbled to herself as she looked around. There were a lot of people, most of them either dancing obnoxiously on each other or drinking out of the red, plastic cups. Before she could walk any further into the house, she heard someone call her name. Looking to her left, she saw Ashton coming towards her, holding a plastic cup in his left hand.
“You made it!”
“You really think I’d flake?” She teased, raising an eyebrow.
“Never in a million years. Need a drink?” He asked, noting that she was empty handed and still standing close to the front door. Malia nodded and Ashton cheered. “Follow me!” He started walking towards the kitchen, weaving through the bodies that had filled up his house. As she followed him deeper into the party, she started feeling suffocated. With all of the young people bumping into her and screaming around her as they sang along to the song blasting through the speakers, she was grateful her personality didn’t match the young, twenty-one year old body she was living in.
As they arrived in the kitchen, Ashton turned back to her, gesturing to the array of different alcohols that were on the counter. “Alright, pick your poison.” He said, watching as Malia looked over the bottles. Her eyes landed on a bottle of bourbon and she grabbed that.
When his eyes widened, she could tell he was surprised at her choice. It was hard to imagine that a girl like her would choose such hard alcohol. His expression made her laugh, before offering a shrug. “Go hard or go home, am I right?”
“Hell yeah!” Ashton nodded and grabbed the bottle from her, twisting off the cap and pouring just a little bit into a new cup he’d pulled from the stack. He poured some in another cup, which Malia assumed was his, before giving her the freshly poured cup of bourbon. He lifted his drink in the air. “Cheers!”
Malia tapped her cup against his, before bringing the rim to her lips and drinking it, swallowing it all in one go. She took her mouth off the cup and smiled, raising her eyebrows as Ashton gave her yet another confused expression. He shrugged and took a drink of his, his face scrunching up at the strong and bitter taste it left on his tongue.
He started coughing and shook his head, the grimace of disgust very apparent on his face. “Fuck, how do you do that?”
“Built up a tolerance to it, I guess?” She chuckled.
“How old are you?”
Malia hesitated before giving him the answer. She knew that his question had a double meaning. He remembered her, she knew that. It was so obvious that he remembered her. In that moment, he was asking her to tell him if his suspicions were true. She wasn’t shocked that he’d managed to find the perfect way of asking her the question she knew was dancing around in his brain.
“I’m twenty-one.” She said slowly, trying to get her own double meaning across.
He didn’t say anything in response, only nodded and accepted her answer. He licked his lips of the remnants of alcohol and let the confusion melt from his face again. He grabbed the bottle of bourbon and brought it to her cup, silently asking if she wanted more. She gave him the go ahead and he began pouring some of the dark liquid into the red cup. “Hey, I wanna introduce you to someone.” He said, gesturing to the back door, which was also crowded. As much as she didn’t want to walk through that disastrous amount of people, she did anyway.
“Lead the way.” He took her confirmation and started walking to the sliding door that was open, attempting to let cool air filter into the house that was starting to make her sweat. She followed him out onto the back patio, noticing that not many people were outside. She did see two men standing near a potted lemon tree, engaging in a conversation.
Upon getting closer, she noticed that one of the blonde men was Luke, enthusiastically telling something to another man wearing dark-rimmed glasses. The last and final one of her husband’s friends from Florence stood in front of him, his head turning to see Ashton and Malia walking towards him. She watched that same look of realization, that same epiphany that she’d seen cross over both Luke and Ashton’s face paint itself on his.
Her heart swelled, beating faster beneath her ribs when she realized three men she’d always trusted her whole life with were alive and remembered her. When she and Calum first fell in love in 1507, Ashton, Luke, and Michael accepted her with open arms, not caring at all about her low societal status at the time. They themselves were only stable boys and guards for the Bianchi family, but it still warmed her to know that when the unfortunate day that Calum wasn’t there to love her and keep her safe came, she had his three best friends, his closest confidants to take care of her.
Over the years, she thought frequently of them. She’d thought of the night Calum first died and how they helped her leave. They wrote her for years to come, sent her money to help her and her child get by, no matter where they might have ended up after leaving Italy. They sent her letters up until the day they died and since then, she’d always been alone. After they died, she realized what a curse it was to stay young while the people she loved aged and withered away.
When Michael looked at her, his light eyes widened and his body tensed up. “Hey, guys.” Ashton called out, he and Malia slowly walking up to the two men, her small height almost comical when she stood near them. It’s always been that way, so it didn’t bother her much. “So you’ve already met Luke, this is-”
“Michael.” Malia whispered, looking at him through her watery vision, her hand coming up to her mouth, fingers pressed to her bottom lip. Tears had pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill over as she stood in front of three of the four important people from her past. She nodded, silently telling him that she remembered; that she knew who he was and knew what he was thinking.
Michael’s tense body relaxed and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders before he pulled her into his chest, holding her as close to him as he could. She held on just as tight, her eyes closing as she let out a breath of relief, her tears rolling over the curve of her rosy cheeks. She buried her face into his black sweater, the cool metal of the chain around his neck pressing against the side of her face.
“You remember us, don’t you?” His hand cupped the back of her head, his lips pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. She pulled back and he looked at her, taking in every inch of her, trying to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.
Malia nodded, smiling through her happy tears. “How could I ever forget you strapping young men?” She teased, to which all three of her guys laughed. She looked at Ashton, who was wearing the biggest she’d seen in a long time.
“I knew you remembered.” He told her, his own arms circling around her and pulling her into his body, his cheek leaning on the top of her head. “I could see it by how shocked you were when you saw me last weekend.”
“How could you possibly remember that night? You were drunk off your ass.” Malia giggled, letting go of Ashton as she recalled his drunken night at the bar.
The dirty blonde haired man sighed and shook his head. “It’s wonderful to see you still have that fire, Lia.”
“So you’re just gonna let me stand here, without a proper greeting. After all we’ve been through?” She heard Luke from beside her scoff. She smiled and looked over at him as he shook his head in disbelief. “You’re absolutely shameful.”
“Oh, Luke. I was only saving the tallest for last.” She said and wrapped her arms around him, but his long arms snuck around waist and he lifted her off the ground, spinning her around.
“I’m not even six-four. I’m six-two, at best.” He said as he set her back on the ground, his arm resting over her shoulders, her own wrapped around his torso.
“Whatever, Hemmings.” Michael rolled his eyes.
Malia tilted her head and looked up at Luke. “Luke Hemmings?” She asked and he nodded like it wasn’t anything abnormal. She looked to the other two men. “And you two are?” The boys responded with their respective names.
“Michael Clifford.”
“Ashton Irwin.”“
“What about you, Lia?” Michael asked.
“Malia Bianchi.” She answered.
All three of the boys looked at her incredulously. “How do you still have your name?”
Malia sighed and shrugged, bringing her cup to her lips. “I’ve kind of been around since Florence.” She said, taking a sip of her bourbon, watching how they all looked amongst each other as if one of them would have the answers the other was searching for.
Luke’s eyebrows furrowed and he was mouthing something silently as he thought deeply. “So you’re-”
“529 years old? Yeah.”
All of the boys’ eyes widened as she bewildered them. Michael was the first to speak up. “So you’ve been around for over five centuries, how? And how are all four of us here?”
“Is this like… what’s that word? It means being born again or something?” Ashton started snapping his fingers, trying to get the word out of his head and off his tongue.
“Reincarnation?” Malia offered, to which Ashton snapped and pointed at her, her having given him the word he was looking for. She shrugged her shoulders, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know. All I know is that the night the church burned in Florence, I saw a shooting star and wished that it would bring Calum back to me, and ever since I haven’t aged.”
“Does Calum know who you are?” Luke asked, running his hand through his long, curly hair.
“No, at least I don’t think he does. He’s never remembered me from the get go before.”
Ashton moves his hand in a circle, gesturing to the four of them in the circle. “So this has happened to you before? You and Calum have met like this before?” With a nod, Malia answered Ashton’s question. “Okay, wow.”
“Trust me, when I met him in Scotland was just as confused as you guys are. I spent over 200 years without him, confused as to why I was still living and suddenly he just reappeared.”
“What happened?” Michael inquired.
April 10, 1744
The best part about the spring-time was that all of the herbs were blooming again, ready to be picked and placed in jars for use later on. Being a healer in a castle in the highlands of Scotland practically ensured that Malia would use them up quickly. At this point in the year, the rambunctious Scottish men who’d gotten in drunken fights and the softly spoken women who were looking for something to heal their sick children’s ailments were flowing in and out of the healer’s quarters at multiple times of the day.
As she placed some of the picked herbs in a bowl for grinding, a stray, light-brown curl fell from the messy updo that Malia had thrown her hair up into that morning. She frowned and huffed, blowing it out of her line of vision so that she could see what she was doing. She hummed as she started sorting amongst her jars on the shelf, hoping to put what she’d found in both the garden outside and in the forest that was a ten minute walk from the castle, into that particular job.
The crackling of the fire from the fireplace made the light knocking at the entryway to the room almost inaudible. Malia didn’t hear someone until she heard heavy footsteps on the stone floor. The person behind her cleared their throat as she began to turn around, holding an opened jar of older herbs, her green eyes still glued to the pages of journal entries she’d written for herb grinding.
“And what trouble might you be in today?” She asked, turning fully to look at the person who’d entered the healer’s quarters. Once she looked up and saw who was standing only ten feet away from her, she felt all the oxygen drain out of the room, saw no one but the face of the man she’d fallen in love with over two centuries before her. His right hand clutched his left side, red blood dirtying his fingers as he looked at her with a hint of pain in his eyes.
In ways he looked the exact same he did when she last saw him, when he walked out of their bedroom and into the trap that had been set up inside the church. His dark hair was in the same messy curls that sat on top of his head, a couple falling over his forehead. His eyes were still that light brown that were full of youth and hopefulness. He still had that slight furrow to his bushy brows, his lips still that beautiful pink color she remembered kissing away until it was replaced with a swollen red.
But now, in the northern Scottish highlands rather than Italy, the tip of his ears and the apples of his cheeks were tinted with a pinkish hue from the slight chill that must’ve been outside. His hands were dirty, covered in both blood and dirt. His jaw was lined with prickly stubble.
“C-Calum?” She stuttered out in a shaky breath, dropping the jar of germander she held in her hands. The glass shattered against the stone, the loud sound not doing much to pull her eyes away from the man who was wearing her husband’s face, her dead husband’s face.
After he died in 1511, Malia left Florence, telling Ashton, Luke, and Michael to inform everyone that she’d died along with her husband in the fire. She couldn’t handle the overwhelming grief she was suffering after his death. She couldn’t handle living in their home, sleeping in their bed, receiving looks of pity from those who knew Calum. She couldn’t handle a life in the city without the person she fell in love with. She couldn’t go on; not without her person.
But she had to. She had to stay strong. If not for herself, for that life they created growing inside of her belly.
After leaving her home, she found herself in Ireland, living with some of Ashton’s distant family. They welcomed her into their home and took care of the mourning, pregnant woman they’d taken in. Soon after her arrival in Ireland, she was giving birth to a daughter who looked so much like her father. They had the same dark strands of hair, the same brown eyes that sparkled in the sunlight.
When she found out she was pregnant, Malia never thought she’d be holding someone besides her lover’s hand as she pushed through the seemingly never ending pain of childbirth. But there she lied in the barn, surrounded by mid-wives and servants she hardly knew, welcoming their daughter. The relief that washed over her when she held that darling soul to her sweaty chest, her heart pounding as she suddenly felt everything would be alright again. As long as she had that little girl, as long as she got the chance to watch that angel grow up, she’d be happy again.
And she was happy. They were happy.
Malia watched her child, who her and Calum had once agreed to name Bella, grow from an infant into this happy five year old that was a carbon copy of the man who she’d given all of her heart to. Every time she saw her bright, childish smile, she’d get that same burst of happiness that she’d get when Calum smiled. When Malia laid in bed with the little one, she’d comb the curls back behind her ear with her finger, scratching at her scalp to get her to fall asleep like she used to do with her child’s father. And when she watched her sleep, she was vividly brought back to the nights she’d watch Calum sleep, his full lips in a pout, eyebrows slightly scrunched up as he dreamt.
Bella was the only light that Malia had in her life after what happened in Florence. When there were days she didn’t want to get out of bed, she’d hear Bella’s sweet voice calling her out of her despair. “Mama! Come play!”
God, did she adore everything about that little girl. That’s what made it so hard losing her. When Bella’s illness progressed to coughing up blood, Malia knew that she was going to experience another great loss for the second time in her life. She stayed with her, holding her close, stroking her hair and doing her best to sing songs to her through the tears that had her choking up. Feeling the last, raspy breath she took against the skin of her neck, a part of Malia knew she’d never come back from this. After that, she was gone. She wasn’t herself anymore.
The pain of losing a child took her heart, leaving her with an empty feeling. Realizing she’d lost the family she built and that she was alone once again, turned her into a person with a cold heart that was incapable of love. Just when Malia thought things couldn’t get any more unbearable, she realized she’d turned thirty and showed no signs of any illnesses or aging. Then she turned forty, then fifty, and she still had the face of a woman in her twenties.
As she stood in her quarters, staring into the face of a ghost, she’d been walking the earth for two hundred and fifty-five years. She kept her eyes on Calum, shaken to the core at the fact that one of her greatest loves was in front of her. “Ye okay, lass?” His voice asked, not having that Italian accent like it did when she knew him. Now he spoke like a highlander, his voice twisting with the Scottish tongue.
Her breathing shallowed, heavy pants leaving her lips, her chest rising and falling as she tried not to drop to the floor. “I-I’m fine. My apologies.” She began to stutter, not knowing what she was feeling. The look he gave her was one of bewilderment as she watched his facial expressions, hoping to see any form of recognition cross over his familiar face. But when she saw nothing, except confusion in his eyes, she knew he had no recollection of her.
Her eyes fell down to the wound he was holding. “You’re hurt.”
Calum shrugged, wincing after he did so. He closed his eyes in pain, letting out a small curse before opening them to address her comment. “They said you’d be able to help.” He told her. She walked closer to him, her body still trembling in disbelief.
“May I?” She reached out towards the hand that was holding his injury and looked up at him. He nodded slowly, his eyes burning into the side of her face as she looked back to his hand and gently wrapped her fingers around his wrist. The tingling feeling she got covered her fingertips, goosebumps rising to her skin. She felt Calum shudder at her touch as she pulled his hand away from his side and began examining the wound.
“Was a small graze of a blade.” He informed her.
“Come.” She gestured for him to follow her to a chair in the corner, which he did. He sat down slowly and she grabbed bandages and a bottle of whiskey that she kept for people who came to her with injuries. “Drink this, it’ll relieve some of the pain.”
Malia opened the bottle for him, handing it to him. He looked up at her and took the whiskey from her, keeping his eyes intently on her. She started by tearing the cloth covering his torso, exposing the flesh wound just a bit more. She began wiping away both the fresh and the drying blood gently, Calum wincing once again as she pressed a bit too hard. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ve had much worse, lass.” He nodded encouragingly. “Somehow your touch makes it tollerable.”
He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t recognize her. He just, for the life of him, could not place where he’d seen her before. He’d never forget a face like hers, he’d never forget a pair of bright green eyes like those, so why was he having such a hard time remembering where he knew hers from?
The blush that rose to her cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by either one of them. Malia could feel the heat on the fullness of her cheeks and Calum could see how flustered he made her based on the way she seemed to give him a nervous smile and seemed to be at a loss for breath.
Little did he know that he made her nervous because she’d gone two centuries without seeing his face. She refused to say anything to him, to even look at him. How could she when she had so much to tell him, so much to say to him? And he so obviously didn’t recognize her. He was Calum, but he wasn’t Calum.
She swallowed the thick lump in her throat as she thought of those brown eyes she felt burning into her as she cleaned the wound, rubbing a lavender solution around the swollen and irritated skin on the side of his torso. He winced and she looked up at him through her long eyelashes, seeing the man above her with his lips rolled together to keep from releasing another groan of pain.
“Drink.” Her head nodded towards the bottle of whiskey. He followed her instructions, grabbing the alcohol from the table in front of him, taking a large gulp of the amber liquid. “How did you get this injury…?” She trailed off, not one hundred percent certain that this man’s name was still Calum as she remembered him to be.
“Calum.” He nodded, filling in the blanks for her. The way his own name rolled off his tongue reminded her of the way he used to say her name, reminded her of the way he used to tell her he loved her. In so many ways, this man was the one she married. His words still brought goosebumps to the surface of her skin, his deep and intent gaze still made her heart race. But he was also completely different. “It was just a little altercation.”
She raised a brow and tilted her head, hearing the reluctance of details in his tone of voice. She remembered that when he lied, he refused to make eye contact. It was interesting to see that was a trait he still had. “Really?”
“Yeah, um, a young lad stole a loaf of bread, so I took the punishment for him.”
He was still the man with a kind, golden heart.
This made Malia smile softly as she wrapped the bandage around his torso. “You’re a good man.”
“I don’t think having morals makes me a good man.” He said as she rose to her feet, taking the vial of lavender and the bandages to the apothecary table.
Malia turned back to Calum, his eyes still watching her like a hawk. “In times like these, having morals is all some people have.”
“In that case, you’re a good woman.” He rose from the chair he sat on, walking towards her. He stood in front of her, no more than two feet away from her. She could feel the heat his body seemed to always have radiating off of him. He reached past her and grabbed the cotton shirt that’d been bloodied and split open by the graze of another highlander’s sword. He pulled it over his head and thanked her once more, walking towards the door.
Once he stood in the doorway, he froze, his back to her as he tapped his fingers on the stone wall. He turned to look back at her. “You never gave me your name, Mistress.”
“Malia Bianchi.”
He seemed to recognize the name, the slight tilt of his head and the sparkle in his eyes giving her the assumption. He offered her a charming smile, one that was full of sincerity. His gaze fell to her left hand, the one that rested on her stomach. “Your husband’s a lucky man, Lia.” He told her, letting her nickname slip from his mouth. He didn’t notice what he’d called her, only gave her another look of recognition before giving her a nod and leaving her in the healer’s quarters.
It wasn’t until three days later that she’d really interact with Calum again. However, she’d see him in the dining hall and when she walked to where she slept. They’d make longing eye contact when they caught each other’s gaze in the gardens or coming back from the stables. Even when she went into town and would happen to see him, she’d caught him looking at her, a puzzled look on his face.
But one day, she was in the garden, picking more of the herbs she was running out of. A hand gently wrapped around her wrist as she went to pick some chamomile for a man that had been having stomach aches. She looked to the hand and followed it to its owner, seeing the one face she couldn’t seem to escape. His eyes were full of tears, the redness in his eyes taking her by surprise.
He pulled her up to stand with him, his hands moving to cup her cheeks as he looked over her face. A curl that had fallen from behind her ear was pushed back by his shaky fingers. His thumbs stroked over her cheekbones, a sigh of relief escaping him as he remembered the few freckles over the bridge of her nose, the fullness of her pink lips and the furrow of her eyebrows. “I’m a lucky man.” He mumbled, slowly leaning in to press his lips to hers in a kiss that spoke more than he could say.
The way he kissed her was the way old lovers would kiss for the first time after reuniting. The feelings that he was able to express with just the movements of their lips let her know he remembered. She dropped the basket of herbs she had, not caring that they’d scattered around their feet and had been ruined. She held onto his wrists, allowing him to kiss her deeply, trying to give her the kiss she’d been waiting over two hundred years to feel again.
Both Calum and Malia’s tears combined, nostalgia surrounding the cool, April air around them. His touch was gentle, but his kiss was needy. If she hadn’t known better, she’d think that he’d spent the last two centuries trying to find her. In that moment, she thanked the stars and the gods above for bringing him back, albeit she waited quite a long time for him.
They broke the kiss, but Calum rested his forehead against hers, the tips of their noses nuzzling. “You remember?” She asked in a whisper.
“I remember everything, darling.”
Malia teared up, remembering that day in the garden at Castle Doune. It was amazing, that first time seeing him. The start of the never-ending chase she didn’t think she’d endure happened that day in the garden, the sun shining down on them through the clouds.
She felt Luke circle an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. He kissed the crown of her head, rubbing her arm in a comforting manner. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hold, not knowing what else to tell the three men she’d just told a piece of her life story.
“What happened after he remembered?” Ashton asked.
“We remarried right away, and then a couple years later I lost him again in the Battle of Culloden. It was a Scottish rebellion in the 1700s.”
The Jacobite uprising in Scotland had been happening for decades. The Jacobites were a group of Scottish people that believed in the restoration of a Catholic king to the throne in England and Scotland. When Calum and Malia had reunited, it was nearing the peak of the uprising and eventually the Battle of Culloden would come to pass, killing many of the Scottish highlanders. Calum included in the many casualties of war.
Malia wiped her tears away with her finger. “Ever since, I’ve just waited for him to reappear and fall in love with me all over again.” She chuckled and took a sip of the drink in her cup. “It’s history’s worst game of hide and seek, really.”
She heard a sigh from Luke above her. Looking up at the tall man, she saw him shake his head sadly. “Not to be a downer, but good luck this time around.” He mumbled.
“What do you mean?” Her head tilted to the side in confusion. She looked around and noticed the looks that both Michael and Ashton were wearing. They seemed to agree with Luke’s cynical statement. “Why are you all looking like I might as well give up now?”
Ashton let out a breath, his eyes meeting Malia’s. “A few years ago, when we’d just moved here to Los Angeles, Calum met this girl and they started dating. And he was just so in love with everything about her. You know how Calum is.”
Malia cut him off and nodded. “When he loves, he loves entirely.”
“And when he hurts, he feels it all at once.” Ashton agreed with a nod. “She was no good for him, she broke his heart and it just really ruined him. He hasn’t really been the same since.”
“He like swore off love after. Says it’s a scam.” Michael added.
“God damnit.” She cursed, leaning back against the railing of the patio. She began twisting her ring on her finger, anxiously playing with it as she always did.
“Lia, it’s gonna be fine. We know how Calum loved you back then, and from what you’ve told us, you’ve got something too strong for him to just ignore.” Ashton reassured her, a small smile on his face as he looked at her. “He’ll remember.”
Before Malia could speak, she heard the door slide open and when they all looked up, Calum walked out, looking around as if he was searching for something. His eyes landed on his friends and the new woman in his life. He smiled when he saw that the guys looked comfortable with Malia and she looked comfortable with them.
“I was almost starting to think you stood me up.” He said, walking towards them and stopping next to Ashton. His and Malia’s eyes met, a small flicker of that familiar longing gaze shared between them momentarily. It felt good, felt right.
“This would have to be a date for me to stand you up.” She teased.
Calum chuckled softly. “Well, if we part off from these dorks, it’ll be a date?” He offered, shrugging his shoulder with a bashful smile. Malia bit her lip and nodded, smiling brightly, the apples of her cheeks coated with a blush. She walked toward him, his hand held out for her to take. He laced her fingers with his and pulled her a bit closer, surprising his friends at his comfort with this new relationship.
“Uh, we’ll catch you guys later.” Malia said to the three men she’d welcomed back in her life.
“Catch you later, Lia.” Michael grinned, waving her off. Luke and Ashton followed suit, saying their own form of a goodbye. Calum and Malia turned around, walking off from the house and to the other side of the backyard where a porch swing was.
When they sat down, they just fell into a great conversation so easily. Nothing between them was never forced, never awkward or boring. They could talk for hours about anything, picking each other’s brains and learning who each other was all over again. That was what so great about what they had, it was never completely different than the love they shared before.
In fact, it was nearly the same. Their souls were always intertwined. They always shared that beautiful bond and that strong friendship in the midst of their passionate romance. Before anything, before being lovers, they were always each other’s best friend.
“Okay. Favorite song?” Calum asked before taking a drink of whatever was in his cup, watching as Malia’s eyebrows furrowed in thought.
“Favorite song? God, I don’t even know.” She chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “I’ve listened to like everything.” With as much time as she’d spent on Earth, she’d had the opportunity to listen to nearly every kind of music. It was really hard to pick one of the millions that she’d heard as her favorite.
“Come on. You don’t have a favorite song? Nothing that just makes you feel warm inside when you hear it?”
Malia laughed again, resting her head on the heel of her palm as she perched her elbow on the back of the porch swing they sat swinging on. Her legs were tucked under her, her body facing Calum as they talked. She thought over Calum’s question.
She looked up at him with those green eyes of hers and smiled softly as a song came to mind. “I’d have to say… Songbird by Fleetwood Mac.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard it.”
“Well, we’ll have to change that sometime.” She suggested to which he agreed with a large grin. “Okay, my turn. What’s your biggest fear?” She asked, as Calum handed her his cup, sharing with her like he’d been doing all night.
Calum looked at his hands and frowned. Truthfully, he only had one big fear. But as he thought about it more and more, he didn’t know if it was appropriate to share with someone so early in an almost relationship. He bit his lip and looked back at her, her beautiful green eyes watching him intently, awaiting his answer. Her soft expression made him feel inclined to share “Love.”
His answer left her speechless. What more could she say? How could she really respond to that when her sole purpose in his life was to love him? The brief look on his face contradicted his words and if she didn’t know him, she wouldn’t have seen it cross over his expression. But once again, she found herself thanking the skies above that she knew him so well.
Even after all the heartbreak she was briefly informed of by the guys, she could still tell that deep down, he wanted to love entirely. He wanted to be that hopeless romantic that he once was and she could tell, just by the way he philosophically spoke of love that he was still that romantic soul she fell in love with. It reminded her of the way he always spoke about love and happiness. He’d forever had such a tender heart and he was never afraid to share it with her. It was one of his best qualities.
Sometime throughout him talking, Malia and Calum finished their drink and she found her hands empty of anything to fiddle with. So, as she always did, she began subconsciously twisting the golden ring on her left index finger.
Calum’s eyes fell down to her small hands as she played with the ring, still explaining her input on their discussion. He couldn’t help but feel that this ring was familiar, that he’d seen it before. That feeling was just so strong. He’d knew where he’d seen it, but for some reason he couldn’t say it, he physically couldn’t. It was frustrating, like having the word you need to say on the tip of your tongue, but not knowing it.
Malia was quick to notice that his mind was just a little bit in the clouds. She followed his gaze to her ring and had an inkling she knew what he was thinking. “You okay, Cal?”
His dark eyes looked back to her, his eyebrows scrunched up slightly. “Where’d you get your ring? You’ve been playing with it all night.”
She stopped twisting her ring and looked down at him, remembering the day he proposed to her in Florence. If she was being honest, she wasn’t expecting him to propose, but in hindsight she should’ve. He was nervous and not like himself all day, her nerves were honestly off the charts just because she’d figured he was going to call off what they had. He’d just become head of the family business and she was sure that meant he would take another woman as his wife.
“Someone I used to know gave it to me.” Malia took it off her finger and held it out for Calum to take in his hand. He looked over it, that frustrated feeling of familiarity evident on his face.
When he looked back up at Malia, he could see the sadness in her eyes. He could tell from the way she seemed to be hurting so deeply, that whoever it was, was someone that she loved entirely. And honestly, he felt that he knew and understood what she was feeling. Although he’d never loved anyone in the way he could tell she did, he really feels her pain like it’s his own. “You lost him, didn’t you?”
Malia was taken back to when she received the news of his death in 1945. The military officer came to her door, regretfully informing her that she was a widow. After reminiscing that painful memory, she remembered every other time she’d learned of his death, but nothing would ever hurt quite as much as having lost him in the Battle of Culloden.
Malia begged him not to fight, she begged him to stay out of the series of battles the highlanders fought in, but she couldn’t stop that stubborn man, especially if he believed in something wholeheartedly. Many of the men Calum had grown up around, much of the men in his family were highlanders that fought in the battles, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t alongside those men until the very end.
He thought they’d win. He thought the Scots would win and it would be that, James VII of Scotland would be made king and the Catholic king that the Scottish wanted would be on the throne rather than a Protestant. It wasn’t that simple. The British won, killing so many men, ending the Jacobite rebellion. The British and the rebellion took her husband.
The night of the battle, after everyone was either dead or receiving care for their injuries, Malia stumbled across the field, looking for her husband. She looked through the piles of bodies, hoping and praying to see Calum alive and struggling to get out from underneath someone. It sure beat the alternative that he was dead.
After a couple hours in the cold, when she began to feel the chill in her bones, she saw him. His eyes were open and void of any life, blood covering every inch of his body. His shirt was drenched in both dirt from the mud on the moor and blood, some of it, she was sure, wasn’t even his. Her eyes began to burn with hot, salty tears as she bent down, pushing the British soldier that laid dead on top of him, his body falling with a thump to the frozen ground.
“No, no, no. This can’t be happening, not again.” She got on the ground and pressed her ear to his heart, praying to God himself that her husband wasn’t dead, that she hadn’t lost him for the second time. She should’ve known that she was delusional to think he was still alive, but the first time she lost him the pain almost killed her, this time she was sure it would. He was so clearly gone, but when she laid her head over his heart, she listened in the dead, quiet night, hoping to hear it beating. She hoped to hear anything.
That was when she learned that sometimes silence speaks the highest of volumes.
She closed her eyes and cried again, burying her face into his chest before sitting down onto the ground. She pulled him onto her lap and lifted her knee, so she could see his face better. Some of the black curls of his fell over his forehead, she pushed them back with her trembling fingers, her eyes roaming over his face. His lips, were blue, his body and his skin wasn’t warm to the touch like it usually was. His eyes were lifeless and it broke her further to see the emptiness in them. A loud cry racked through her aching body as she covered his eyes with her hand, her forehead leaning against the back of her hand as she closed his eyes.
What hurt, so much more than she thought could hurt, was that as she pulled him closer, his body was heavy. She held his head to her chest, the most broken of all cries echoing in the body-filled expanse of Culloden moor. Her heart broke, feeling his frozen skin against her heart which had began to beat slower. She felt her heart slow and she was sure she was dying. Truthfully, that’s all she wanted, that’s all she hoped for. Anything was better than this pain.
She looked back down at him, her fingertips gently skimming over the sides of his face, his stubble scratching at the pads of her fingers. Closing her eyes and bringing him closer, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his, disgusted with the way she could practically taste his death on her them. She pressed the side of her cheek to his, sobbing as she whispered in his ear, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” over and over and over again.
As she flashed back to the present, she looked back at Calum and nodded sadly. She did lose someone. She lost him and she’s always losing him. She’s always losing someone she loves. Watching people outlive you is the worst curse and she damned the universe for placing this life upon her. Because she’d never known real pain until she lost Calum and Bella.
It hurts that losing people seems to be the only thing she’d ever been good at.
“Yeah, it was a long time ago though.”
Calum could feel the gut wrenching pain rolling off of her in tidal waves, could see it in the expression painting itself on her beautiful face. “How do you deal with it?”
Malia was silent for a moment before she said anything. Because she honestly doesn’t know how she deals with it. She’d almost been forced to accept that eventually, she’ll be all alone again. Everytime Calum dies she’s forced to accept that she’s alone. And she hated, more than anything she’s encountered in her five centuries on this planet, the wretched realization that she’s alone. “The only thing I can really do is take it one day at a time.”
The man in front of her doesn’t say anything. He’s beating himself up for bringing up something that was obviously a touchy subject for her. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to make her happy again. Instead of using his words, he uses his actions to express the kindness in his heart. Gently, he takes her hand in his, he slides the ring back onto her left index finger, rubbing his thumb over the golden piece of jewelry before tenderly kissing it.
His brown eyes connected with her green ones before offering her his beautiful smile. “You won’t be sad forever, Malia. I’ll make sure of it.” He promised, his voice soft, but the way his lips moved drew her attention to them and made her think that his lips looked softer.
More often than not, she knew what to say to Calum. She always knew how to respond to him. But right then and there, on Ashton’s back porch swing, she was left without words, without air in her lungs really. Even though she knew him, probably better than he knew himself, she was sometimes left surprised at just how good he could be to her and just how sweet what he says to her could be.
She loved him so much and this was one of the moments where she ached for him to remember who they were. She wanted to tell him she loved him, to kiss him with all the love she had for him in her heart. She didn’t know how to say it without saying it, so she just hoped that he’d get the hint and kiss her already.
Calum, on the other hand, was already so infatuated with this girl that it was just blowing him away. It was scaring him how much he yearned to have her near him. He wanted so badly to hold her close and feel the warmth of her body. He wanted to intertwine his fingers with hers and give her sweet kisses. For some reason, he was able to so vividly see them together. It was almost like memories were flashing through his head as he thought about sleeping next to her and waking up to see her still snoozing, or his lips kissing all over her body.
He wanted nothing more between them than the simple intimacy that came from a relationship. A few weeks ago, he’d never think he’d crave someone he’d just met like he did her. He’d never think he wants a relationship. And more than anything, he never thought that he could fall in love with someone’s soul like he was falling in love with Malia’s.
They were both slowly leaning in, and once their faces were only inches apart, Calum brought his hand up to cup the side of her neck like he’d done that night they met at the bar. He traced the outline of her heavenly lips with the pad of his calloused thumb. “I’m going to kiss you now. Is that alright?”
“Yeah.”
He leaned in further, pressing his lips softly against hers. His eyelids fluttered closed and he was sure that he’d never tasted anything so sweet nor felt anything so soft. He’d never had the thought that someone’s lips were meant for him to kiss and admire. The kiss blew him away and knocked him off his feet, causing him to pull away after only a couple seconds.
His eyes popped open and were wide as Malia opened her own, wanting his kiss back. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion watching as multiple emotions flicker over his face and twinkle in his eyes. The tip of his nose was still grazing hers, their breaths mingling in the small space between them as they looked into each other’s eyes.
Calum didn’t say anything, but he put his thumb back over the curve of her bottom lip, looking at the gorgeous flush of red that was beginning to develop. He shook his head and leaned in again, kissing her much harder this time. Everything he’s ever wanted is sitting in front of him, kissing him with just as much as ferocity as he kisses her with. He tried to express that as he kissed her. He tried his absolute best to share that he wants her more than anything.
Somehow, Calum can’t help feeling that she’s it for him. It may be ridiculous seeing as her only known her for a little over a week, but in that moment, he was sure he’s found his soulmate. It’s impossible to believe that kissing someone, a stranger really, could leave you dizzy and unable to grasp the concept of reality. Her kiss felt like being on a roller coaster. It made his heart race and his stomach drop in a good way, taking him through all kinds of loops.
His right hand traveled up from its place on the side of her neck to cup her cheek. The kiss was fierce and burning, a warming fire igniting itself in both of them. He pulled her closer, her knees pressing into his thigh as her hand grasps his bicep, squeezing softly as she melts into his hold.
A small, content moan of approval falls from Calum onto Malia’s lips, her mouth opening as she gasps. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, deepening their actions. It’s nearly impossible for either of them to pull away, even with their lungs losing air, but it somehow still feels like the other is giving them the oxygen they need to live after drowning.
Malia’s breathless as she puts her hand on Calum’s chest, right above his heart. She broke away from him, their lips parting with a small smack. She leaned her forehead against his, smiling as goosebumps rise onto her skin. “I can‘t breathe.” She whispered in a breathy laugh. Her eyes were closed as Calum grabbed her hand and held it over his heart.
“I’m sorry. Just can’t get enough of you, gorgeous.” He told her. Slowly opening her eyes, she looks at him fondly, her lips swollen just like his. He had a lazy smile tugging at the corners of
his mouth, his eyes twinkling with adoration as he scanned her face. He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on her bottom lip. “Do you wanna leave, maybe go get something to eat?”
“Yeah.” She grinned, Calum getting off the swing and standing before her. He held out his hand for her to take and she did before he pulled her onto her feet. He laced their fingers together and walked with her through the yard to the gate and found his car.
Within minutes, they were off to wherever Calum planned taking them, one of his hands resting on her thigh the other on the steering wheel. She traced shapes on his wrist, her nails lightly scratching at his skin. He has a permanent smile on his face because truly, nothing has ever been so perfect.
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@h0tsos @let-us-eatcake @talkfastang @curly-cal
