lyss ‧₊ ♪˚

• we all know this man has long fingers. he uses them very well, pumping them in and out of you so deep you can feel his cool metal rings against your skin.

• he also uses them to choke. god, he loves watching those eyes roll into the back of your head.

• he loooves when you leave marks on him, specifically those long thin red lines from clawing at his back as he fucks you so hard you see stars.

• he’d edge you until you get so frustrated that you’re basically cussing at him… or crying out, begging him for your release. “good girls don’t cum unless i tell them to.”

• this man uses his belt to his advantage. you’re actually kind of surprised at how versatile it gets. from spanking you with it to tying your hands behind your back with it to using it like a leash, he does it all.

• he loves loves loooooves you riding him as he’s swirling his tongue around yours and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

• he makes sure to get you loud. like screaming for the whole world to hear. he needs you to moan out his name, it really gets him going.

• this dude is a flower crown making PRO. you’d be laying on his lap in the park on a picnic blanket, talking about your week and then all of a sudden he’s whipped up some flower crown made from daisies and dandelions, placing it on your head. he says it costs one billion kisses… so now you’re in kisses debt with him. it’s his way of saying you’re stuck with him forever. (sooo corny but thats him for ya)

• on the topic of flowers, he’s the type of guy to buy you flowers but keep one in his house with him so he knows when to buy you more.

• i imagine this version of him to be sooo soft and cuddly and oh so pouty. like he genuinely gets upset when he misses you and has to see you asap!

• sweets are the way to his heart. you guys looove going out to try new cafes. but you do have your favorite cafe together… which is where you guys met. hehe. he was a barista when you guys met so he knows exactly how you like your coffee/drinks.

• in fact… he has all your orders memorized. taco bell, in n out, you name it! he’s the type to also get you food even if you said no because… he knows you want food deep down. lol.

• doesn’t stop you from stealing his fries though!

• he also makes dying his hair something for you two to do together! he’s perfectly capable of doing it himself but he likes the feeling of your fingers running through his hair… hehe - > -

• a lot of your dates are spent outdoors. nothing crazy like hiking or rock climbing but more like strolls along the beach, walking your guys’ dog, and of course… picnics!!!

• you two also love going thrifting and hunting for vinyls/cds you guys want which will eventually be played during lazy sunday mornings as you guys dance in the kitchen.

• if not outside then movie marathons, baking dates where michael somehow gets flour all over his face, michael strumming on his guitar, playing nostalgic games online… its a very simple and soft lifestyle for the both of you. :)

• also just to throw this in here he knows how to sew, always patching up any holes in your clothes for you :(((

Your hand freezes halfway to your drink.

No. Your eyes widened as you turn your head.

It couldn't be.

You look toward the other end of the bar, and there he is.

Calum.

For a split second, the room disappears.

The music becomes muffled beneath the rush of blood in your ears, conversations fading into a distant blur. It feels like the floor has shifted beneath you, like someone has reached into your chest and pulled on a thread you'd spent two years carefully trying to tuck away.

He looks older than the last time you saw him.

Not dramatically, it had just been a few years since you had seen him last.

His hair curls a little longer around towards the back of his neck than you remember. More tattoos snake beneath the sleeves of a faded black, tight fit t-shirt.

His jaw is sharper now, softened only by the familiar dimple that appears whenever he smiles at something one of his friends says.

The little silver ring still sits on his finger.

He still absentmindedly taps rhythms against the bar with his fingertips.

Some habits never leave.

As if sensing your stare, he glances up. His eyes meet yours.

The smile that was painted on his face, falls. A look of shock crossing his eyes.

For one impossible heartbeat, neither of you moves.

Then his lips part ever so slightly.

"...Y/N?"

It was a quiet that you could barely hear it.

Your feet carry you toward him before your mind has made the decision.

You stop a few feet away, both of you wearing the same expression.. a mixture of disbelief, nostalgia, and something that hurts too much to name.

"You look....."

He trails off, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. "I wasn't expecting to see you."

"I could say the same thing." You laughed softly back, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked at him.

"You still live here?" He asked, standing up and walking over to meet you where you were.

You nod as you looked up at him, taking in notes of how his eyes had aged.

"I never left."

He smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'm only here for a few days."

Of course he is.

He always was.

For the past decade, Calum had become someone the whole world borrowed. Cities, countries, tours, interviews, studios.

There had once been a time when you knew exactly where he'd be every afternoon after school. Now you couldn't even guess what continent he'd wake up on.

He gestures toward the empty stool beside him. "Would it be weird if I bought you a drink?"

You let out the smallest laugh.

"I think it'd be weirder if you didn't."

One drink becomes two.

Two become hours.

The conversation falls into place with startling ease, like slipping into a favorite sweater you'd forgotten you still owned.

You tell him about your job, how your cats had been doing, updates on your family, and so so much more.

He tells you about recording.

You laugh about the time he broke his arm trying to jump off your garage roof because he insisted he could "absolutely land it."

"You dared me." He scoffed with a giant grin on his face.

"I absolutely did not." You rolled your eyes, bringing your drink up to your lips and taking a sip.

"You literally counted down." He argued back jokingly.

"I counted because I thought you'd chicken out." It was now your turn to scoff at him with a grin on you face.

"You underestimated how stupid thirteen-year-old me was." He said slightly loud.

"I still underestimate how stupid thirty-year-old you is." You laughed, putting a hand on his forearm as you leaned forward.

He grins. "Fair."

You both laugh. The conversation was basically effortless.

You had been neighbors before you had been friends.

Your bedrooms faced each other across a narrow stretch of grass, and during summer break you'd sit on your respective roofs shouting conversations across the gap until one of your parents yelled for you to come inside.

At twelve, he'd taught you how to play bass.

At fourteen, you'd helped him pass algebra.

At sixteen, he was the first person you called after getting your driver's license.

At seventeen, he held your hand outside the hospital after a family member had passed away, never saying a word because he knew you didn't want comfort, you just didn't want to be alone.

By eighteen, everyone assumed you were dating.

You weren't. Not then at least.

The feelings had always existed beneath the surface, quietly waiting for one of you to be brave enough.

Neither of you were.

Until twenty-two.

"It was raining." Calum says suddenly, breaking the silence.

You blink.

"What?" You asked him confused.

"The first time we kissed." He stated as if it was matter of fact

You smile into your glass, putting it down and looking at him. "You remember."

"You don't?" He replied almost too fast for your liking.

"I remember everything."

The confession hangs between you.

You'd been sitting in his truck after watching some terrible horror movie. Rain hammered against the windshield while neither of you made any move to leave.

You'd looked at him. He'd looked at you.

Then quietly asked,

"Can I?"

You'd never answered. You'd simply leaned across the center console. It had felt inevitable almost like breathing.

Like finally finishing a sentence the two of you had been writing since childhood.

"What happened to us?" His voice is barely above a whisper, his drink long forgotten about as he looked over at you.

It's the first difficult question of the night. You stare down at the condensation gathering around your glass.

"We grew up." You swallowed hard as you downed the last of your drink and ordered another.

"No." Calum replied short, letting out a huff of a laugh as he leaned back into his chair.

"We did." Your gaze followed him as he leaned back.

"I think.." he sighs. "I think we just kept missing each other."

You know he's right. When he was home, you were building your career. When you finally had time, he was halfway across the world.

Phone calls became voice messages. Voice messages became texts. Texts became likes on Instagram.

Likes became birthdays. Birthdays became....

Nothing.

Not because either of you stopped caring but because caring wasn't enough anymore.

Eventually, silence became easier than missing someone every day.

The bartender announces last call.

The words slice through the warmth surrounding the two of you.

Last call.

The irony isn't lost on either of you.

Calum lets out a soft chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Guess they're trying to tell us something."

You smile sadly, eyes welling up with tears as you quickly sniffled and threw your head back so they wouldn't fall.

"They're a little late."

Outside, the night air is cool enough to raise goosebumps across your arms.

The city feels quieter than it should.

Streetlights paint soft pools of gold across empty pavement while the sounds of distant traffic echo somewhere beyond the parking lot.

For a while, neither of you says anything.

You both simply stand there.

Two people who know each other better than almost anyone else trying to figure out how to become strangers.

"I've missed you." He said softly, breaking the silence.

The words come so quietly you almost don't hear them.

You close your eyes.

"I know."

"No." His voice cracks.

"You don't." He added.

When you look back at him, his eyes are glossy.

"I've looked for you in every city." He confessed, a tear falling down his face.

Your breath catches.

"In coffee shops." He laughs weakly.

"At airports, in crowds." His voice became desperate and almost like begging.

"Every girl I'd meet..." he pauses. "I'd wonder if she'd laugh like you."

Your chest aches, tears falling from your eyes as you now stood in front of him. The dull glow from the street light and the moon illuminating his tear stained face.

"I stopped listening to songs you would've liked because I couldn't send them to you anymore."

Silence settles around you but its not awkward. You swallow hard before replying to him.

"I did the same thing."

He steps closer but its not enough to touch.

Just enough that you can smell the cedarwood cologne you bought him for Christmas years ago.

You wonder if he realizes he's still wearing it.

"I kept thinking that if we ran into each other again that it would..." he started before he laughed, shaking his head and looking down..

"...maybe it'd mean something."

"It does." You quickly said, he looked up at you.

"It does?"

"It means we finally get to say goodbye." You said softly, reaching out to run your hand down his arm and to hold his hand gently.

His face falls almost imperceptibly.

"I don't want goodbye."

"I know." You said softly, your voice breaking.

"I want another chance."

Your heart begs you to say yes. To ask him to stay. To suggest breakfast tomorrow.

One more coffee.

One more conversation.

One more kiss.

One more week.

One more life.

But you know yourselves too well. If he stayed until tomorrow...

Tomorrow would become next weekend and then next month and then another goodbye at another airport.

Another promise to call. Another cycle of almosts. You couldn't survive losing him twice.

"I think.." you whisper. "We've loved each other in every way except the one that mattered."

He wipes at his eye with the heel of his other hand.

"...That's a cruel thing to say." He let out a slight chuckle.

"It's true." You said, your heart breaking as you did the opposite of what your brain was screaming at you to say.

"We were kids." He laughed dryly.

"We were."

"We were friends."

"The best."

"We were almost everything." He shook his head, taking his hand away and looking at the ground, kicking at it.

You nod. "Almost."

He opens his arms and you step into them immediately.

He still hugs exactly the same...one hand spread across your back, the other cradling the back of your head like he's trying to memorize the shape of you.

You bury your face against his chest, listening to the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat, your tears soaking his shirt.

You wonder if his heart recognizes yours the way yours still recognizes his.

"I loved you," he whispers into your hair.

Not love.

Loved.

Past tense. It somehow hurts more.

Tears spill down both of yours cheeks before you can stop them.

"I know." You whispered into his chest.

"I never stopped." You added on, squeezing your eyes shut to try and make the tears stop.

"I know."

When you finally pull apart, you're both smiling through tears.

The kind of smiles reserved for people who know this moment will live inside them forever.

"I hope," he says quietly, "that whoever gets to love you next gets all the versions of you I never got to meet."

Your throat tightens as you take a deep breathe.

"I hope someone reminds you that you don't have to carry everything by yourself." You reply to him.

He laughs through wet eyes. "You always knew me too well."

"I had a lot of practice." You joke, nudging him with your elbow.

One final laugh.

One final smile.

One final look.

He starts walking backward toward his rental car, unwilling to turn away just yet.

You do the same.

Halfway there, he raises two fingers to his forehead in the same stupid salute he'd given you since you were eleven years old the one he'd do even more after you complained of how cringey it was, every road trip, every sleepover, every hangout.

The one that had always meant,

See you later.

Your lip trembles as you return it.

But this time, instead of see you later.

You both know what it really means.

Goodbye.

And as he drives away, taillights disappearing into the dark until there is nothing left but empty road, you realize that some people are never meant to stay forever.