On the Saturday, they have a stupid fight that isn’t even a fight. Ben wants to go out to a party down on the beach, with Logan and the rest of the boys, one of the last parties of the season, according to him. And it shouldn’t be a big deal, it shouldn’t even matter, but something ugly and dark festers in Callum’s chest, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s refusing to go, and Ben is rolling his eyes at him, huffing and slipping out of bed to get dressed.
Callum tries to call him back, eyes burning, throat croaky from sleep. He knows he shouldn’t be jealous, but he is, and it won’t go away. It feels as if there’s no time left for them, precious minutes slipping through their fingers, and they still haven’t talked. Callum just wants to cry at the thought of spending another night alone in these sheets, spending another night out on the balcony watching the water fade into the darkness, waiting for headlights to flash up the hill and turn down the street.
But Ben goes, leaves Callum with a kiss on the cheek that he pulls away from sharply, looking down at the ground. Ben lingers, just for a moment, and their eyes meet in something vicious, tainted with hurt and a pain unknown that feels like thorns dragging down his chest. He eats dinner alone, cleans the dishes, and crawls into bed by nine o’clock, hating himself for being so upset about something so silly, but also for staying behind when he should have just gone, should have just pushed his insecurities and hurt aside and enjoyed himself, ignored Logan and sly remarks.
send me a word, if it’s in one of my wips i’ll answer with the passage that it appears in!
