#cryngwolf

Calum let out a belly laugh, the sound feeling far too loud for the stillness of the late hour. You gently knocked your knees against his own, the action not having much consequence because your legs were so tightly twined with his, making the two of you seem like one joined entity rather than two separate people.

"Oh hush," you chided, as if he would wake up the rest of the slumbering world if he continued.

Even to your own ears, you knew you didn't sound the least bit convincing. Your lips stretching into a smile certainly didn't help your cause either. Not that you were really trying though, already enamored with the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled wide enough.

"I mean, that's one way of describing my career," Calum acknowledged once he started to calm down, his lips slowly curving upwards in a smirk. "My band is my business, after all."

Calum laughed again and you pushed at his shoulders in response, his arms wrapped around you allowing him to not propel back very far. If anything, his hold on you only served to make Calum pull you even closer to him, the sound of his laughter fading out as he lowered his head to press a kiss to the top of yours.

"So you and your band," you prompted, trying to get the conversation back on track after its derailment.

"Right," Calum agreed, nodding as if he'd forgotten that he'd been the one to introduce the topic in the first place. He cleared his throat before continuing. "The boys and I are leaving soon to do some promo before our next album comes out."

Calum started to rattle off the details of his upcoming trip -- explaining when he'd be leaving, how long he'd be gone for, the places he'd be visiting, and when he'd be back. All the while, you'd closed your eyes, picturing what Calum was describing to you and also making occasional noises of acknowledgement to indicate that you were still listening. In truth, you were really only half-listening, the other half of your thoughts mulling over this new revelation about him, such an integral part of his being.

How strange that you didn't know Calum at all.

"Thought you were going to help me pack," Calum said, making you divert your gaze from his body -- bare except for the pair of toucan boxers that hung low on his hips -- to his face. He didn't pause in his movements, still maneuvering about the room to add to the contents of his suitcase, but you could see that his plush lips had curved upwards in a smirk. "Wasn't that why you said you were coming over to spend the night for?"

"I am," you insisted, sitting up in his bed and pulling the sheets closer around your still bare body. "Did you pack--" You trailed off, trying to make out what was already in his suitcase. "--a jacket?" you eventually guessed.

Calum paused, halfway through folding a t-shirt. After a moment, he finished the task and then set the shirt inside his suitcase before making his way over to the closet and pulling out a jacket.

"See?" You triumphantly grinned. "I'm helping."

Calum chuckled, folding the jacket to add it to the other contents of his suitcase. "Not quite the help I was expecting, but I'll take it."

"I mean, you've been packing on your own for plenty of trips now, right?" you checked as you leaned over the side of the bed -- still clutching the sheets to your body -- to pick up the closest article of clothing. "Are you bringing this with you?" Calum glanced up at the discarded flannel shirt clutched in your hand and shook his head, leading to you shrugging the shirt over your shoulders and then buttoning it up. "Anyway, as I was saying, just think of me as a human packing list."

"A human packing list that has only served to remind me of one item I needed to pack," Calum reminded you, standing back up to walk over to his closet again.

You shrugged. "Better than reminding you of nothing at all," you replied, before swinging your legs over the bed. As you idly kicked your legs back and forth against the bed, you asked, "Do you have time for breakfast?" At the appearance of yet another smirk on his face, you amended your question. "An actual breakfast consisting of food?"

"Maybe if someone had actually helped me pack like they said they would," Calum teased, while rifling through his closet. He paused to pull various shirts off their hangers. "No, not really," he finally answered, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. "I pretty much only have time to finish packing and getting dressed before Dave gets here with the car. If I eat anything, it's either going to be to-go, at the airport, or on the airplane."

You made a noise of acknowledgement as you stood up to walk out of the room. As you walked by Calum, he moved to wrap an arm around your waist and then duck his head down to press his lips to yours before you could protest about your morning breath. All thoughts of that though went out the window when his mouth made contact with yours -- a mistake in hindsight because the good morning kiss became more of a good morning make out, the two of you too aware of the fact that only a single article of clothing kept the both of you from being completely naked.

It was when Calum started unbuttoning the shirt of his you wore that you came to your senses again, your mind clearing of the lusty haze fogging its judgment.

You drew back from him. "You have to finish packing," you panted, breathless from locking lips. Your hands in his hair keeping him close to you said otherwise though, forcing you to remove your hands from the dark locks you loved to thread your fingers through.

Calum pressed his forehand against yours, his hands still keeping you close to him from their placement on your waist. "You're right," he agreed, breathing as heavily as you were.

You quickly lifted your head to press a kiss to the tip of his nose before sliding out of his loosened grasp to head into the kitchen.

Because Calum was going to be gone for a while, you weren't surprised to find the fridge practically empty of perishable food -- that was the exact reason why you two had ordered take out for dinner last night. You also looked through his pantry, but that wasn't very promising either.

Eventually, your eyes settled on the coffee pot on his counter. "Cal, do you want coffee?" you asked, raising your voice so Calum could hear you from the bedroom.

"Yes, please," you heard him call back.

A few minutes later, you were grabbing two mugs from an overhead cabinet and then pouring coffee into them. As you finished adding creamer and sugar to his mug, after having done the same to your own, Calum walked into the kitchen, fully dressed (and presumably all packed now).

"Thanks, babe," he said, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek before taking the creamer and sugar from you to add them to his own mug.

You two stood side-by-side in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you two drank from your respective mugs without exchanging a single word. Silence never bothered you too much, yet you'd never been more comfortable being in silence with anyone else than you did with Calum. The whole scene felt domestic too, but you didn't find yourself feeling too bothered by the fact.

Not that it lasted long, neither of you having finished your coffee before a buzzing rang throughout the apartment. Setting his mug down, Calum walked over to the front door. "Dave?" you heard him check.

The head of security answered back affirmatively and you didn't doubt that he would be at the front door soon.

Calum reemerged from the foyer, walking by the kitchen to get to his bedroom. Setting your own mug down, you followed, watching from the doorway while he shouldered his carry-on duffle and extended the handle of his suitcase. He remained rooted in place as he surveyed his bedroom, brow furrowed and occasionally mouthing words to himself, no doubt checking to make sure he'd packed everything he needed.

The knocking and the call of his name from the front door broke his concentration and you let Calum lead the way out of the bedroom, trailing behind him as you conducted one last run through of his belongings with him.

With the conclusion that he'd packed everything he needed and only the threshold of a wooden door to cross through, the time had come to stumble through the long goodbye that you two had been putting off. Though neither of you seemed to want to be the first to speak.

You two stood around in silence long enough that Dave eventually knocked on the front door again, half-seriously wondering if Calum were even still conscious on the other side, prompting you to just pluck up the courage and speak first.

You cleared your throat. "Have a safe flight, yeah?"

Calum cleared his throat as well. "Yeah," he agreed, before repeating himself as if to fill the air. "Yeah. I'll…I'll text you when I land?"

You nodded. "Don't…don't feel like you have to though," you reassured him. "I mean, if you forget or something, it's okay, like, if I don't hear from you."

Calum vigorously shook his head before promising, "No, no, I'll remember."

There was another knock at the door, sounding more frantic and harsh this time. "Cal, it's time to go," the head of security sternly urged.

You could feel your throat go dry. "Well," you began, "I guess this is goodbye."

Calum shook his head again. "No, this is see you later," he corrected. At your puzzled expression, he further explained. "Goodbyes are permanent." His own expression mirrored yours, as if incredulous at the words he'd just spoken. Calum shook his head yet again. "What I meant was, I'll see you when I'm back--" He paused. "--if you'd like that?"

You hesitated, biting down on your lower lip in momentary thought. "Yeah," you finally decided. "If-- if that's what you want, I'd like that." Your lips stretched into a shy smile. "I guess this is see you later then."

Calum dropped his duffle to the floor and pulled you to him, his lips easily slotting against yours as your bodies pressed flush against each other. You reveled in the warmth of his body, the softness of his hair, the firm grasp of his hands on your waist -- one last kiss, then he had to catch his flight.

"See you later," Calum murmured after pulling away.

When you opened your eyes a beat later, you found a sinking feeling forming in the pit of your stomach as he completely removed himself from you and then unceremoniously walked out the front door. In hindsight, perhaps that sinking feeling marked right when you were just about to fall.

Right at the very beginning you'd told yourself, "don't get attached."

You'd seen what getting attached could do to a person. You'd experienced it firsthand.

You think what you have with someone is forever. Gradually, they stop feeling the same. By the time you find out, it's too late to reverse their feelings. Three months later and they're already seeing someone new and calling this someone their person when just three months before you'd been their person.

And so, you'd been rightfully wary when your friend proposed setting you up with someone, a friend of one of her friends. You were even more wary at the fact that this was to be a blind date, but she insisted that you just needed to meet someone new -- promising that at the very least, you'd get to spend a night in the company of an undoubtedly attractive person and a free meal, even if the date didn't go anywhere.

Of course, that person ended up being Calum.

At the time -- with you not really belonging to his band's target demographic or his band not really belonging on the scale of pop culture you actually paid attention to -- you hadn't known that he was a musician or that he was in a rather popular band. Yet, somehow, Calum was still familiar and that familiarity was comforting in spite of the blind date situation you two were in, the feeling reminiscent to coming home.

You should've recognized that as the telltale of you falling for him.

But when you played it back in your mind, when you played back every moment starting from your first date up until your last day with him before he went away, the realization that the signs of your descent had always been there -- from willingly staying up late at night with him to letting him kiss you while you had morning breath to knowing how he took his coffee -- made your head spin faster than the plane that took him.

Admittedly, you didn't think your relationship with Calum would be forever. At the most, you thought your relationship with him would just be chalked up as a fling for the both of you -- fun overall and no hard feelings when the relationship inevitably ended. Your relationship with him seemed to be heading in that direction too. There was the delicate beginning rush -- that thrill that came from being in a relationship, the blissful ignorance of being in the honeymoon stage where you had the feeling you knew so much about the other person already without knowing anything at all.

Deciding to be exclusive with Calum did nothing to change your pessimistic prediction. What did have an affect on your mindset though was the news of him leaving to do promo -- amplifying your negativity and making you surmise that once he left, it would only be a matter of time before your relationship with him fizzled out.

In the days following his departure, you went on with your life as normal, going about your day-to-day routine as usual -- the occasional texts and the frequent Snapchats he sent serving to fill his physical presence in your life.

And that was fine. You had your friends and you had your family and you had your job and you had all the other responsibilities that came with being a legal adult to keep you occupied. The time you'd previously allocated to Calum, you now spent enjoying being by yourself again.

When the number of days he'd been away became substantial, he started to call. The phone calls started off short at first, just a way to be able to hear each other's voice right there and then, but they progressively started to get longer to the point where others around the both of you had to yell at you to get off the phone. If that wasn't a sign, the fact that you started to find yourself smiling after the phone calls most certainly was.

After the phone calls came the Skype sessions, when being able to immediately hear each other's voice wasn't enough anymore and you two had to be able to see each other right there and then too. Coordination between time zones was involved and time was set aside and you found yourself actually looking forward to the nights you were connected to Calum through a computer screen.

Funnily enough, the distance that you thought would bring you two to an end only seemed to bring you two closer together -- having found yourself enamored with the way he would randomly text you pictures of dogs getting stuck in random places, the way he always accidentally covered the mic when recording Snapchat videos, the way his voice sounded over the phone in the mornings, the way he believed in ghosts enough to download a ghost detecting app and demonstrate it to you over Skype…just everything about Calum that made him, him.

If you had known what you'd known now -- that you would find yourself falling for him, the good parts and the ugly parts of him and all -- you never would've played so nonchalant towards him or your relationship with him.

It was in the gaps of your schedule, when you didn't have any responsibilities and when you didn't have plans with anyone. It was in the afternoons you couldn't get lunch at a cafe with him, the evenings you couldn't stroll around the city with him, and the late nights you couldn't laze around the living room with him. It was in the moments you wanted to spend with him and only him, but couldn't. In the time that had become yours and only yours again -- that was when the feeling sunk in, that was when you couldn't fight off the ache from his absence.

You didn't want to miss Calum like this. You didn't want to feel like a part of you was missing without him here with you. More importantly, you didn't want to need him like this. You didn't want to need anybody, let alone a boy.

Yet, you also wanted Calum to physically be with you in person. Wanted to be in his presence. To feel him, touch him, hold him, kiss him. You wanted him to come back and be here. For all the taxi cabs and busy streets you saw everyday, none of them brought him back to you and you couldn't help but wish he'd taken you with him -- making you realize that this was falling in love in the cruelest way, that this was falling in love when he was worlds away.

"How's New York?" you asked as you lay on your stomach in bed, happy that you had an busy weekend ahead of you to keep you occupied and happy that you were Skyping with Calum.

"It's good. Good to be back." he answered with a nod of his head, as he lay back against the numerous pillows of his hotel bed. "Although I'm actually in London now."

Calum’s gentle tone did nothing to ease the wave of mortification that washed over you though, your eyes widening in horror at your blunder before they started to well up with tears. Immediately, he began to worry, his expression becoming one of concern.

"But I'm not upset that you forgot," Calum rushed out. "You've been busy, yeah? New York and London can be mistaken for each other sometimes anyway. It's hard to tell when I'm always Snapchatting from hotel rooms."

"It's-- it's not that," you choked out through a sob, your body starting to shake from just how hard you were trying to keep from full-on crying. "I’m upset ‘cause it's not fair that you're not around."

Your confession seemed to mark the end of your self-restrain, the tears freely and openly streaming down your face now. Frustratedly, you swiped them away, trying to calm yourself back down and even out your breathing again. 

"When you said you would be leaving, I didn't think we'd still have any semblance of a relationship this far down the line, so I didn't think that would be a problem." You paused to take in a deep, calming breath before continuing. "But we've actually been able to keep in touch and keep this relationship alive and I just-- I just really miss you," you finished lamely. With a sniffle, you added, "And I care about you a lot more than I thought I would when we decided to be exclusive."

Calum didn't immediately respond, but you could tell that he was thinking -- mulling over your words -- from the way his lips were pursed and his brow was furrowed. Having caught a glimpse of yourself on the screen, you momentarily excused yourself to go to the bathroom, where you took the time to take some more deep breaths, blow your nose, splash cold water on your face, and squeeze two drops of Visine into each of your eyes.  

You still looked slightly worse for wear, but your current appearance was by far an improvement from your appearance a few minutes ago.

Once you walked back into your bedroom, you were greeted by the word, "Soon."

While settling back onto your bed, you asked, "Huh?" as if that would make the word's meaning any clearer.

"Soon," Calum repeated, like doing so sufficed as an explanation. After a beat, he sighed, bringing his hands up to thread his fingers through his hair. "I know the distance is hard. It's been hard for me too. We've managed to get this far though, and it's not that much longer until I'm back."

"Feels a lot longer than it actually is," you glumly remarked.

Initially, you thought the worst. What if something happened to him on his way over? What if he got into an accident? But on second thought, you realize this showing-up-late act has been becoming more of a habit lately. It’s more than just Calum’s tardiness. On top of that, he’s also been canceling plans and neglecting your calls. He barely even holds your hand anymore, let alone makes love to you. Over the past few weeks, Calum went from having the arousal of a rabbit in heat, to that of a neutered dog. He brushes off all your advances, halfheartedly returning your kisses with distant pecks. You’re beginning to forget his touch—his everything.

“Excuse me, miss? Will your party be joining?” the waiter attempts once more.

You don’t want to believe this is your reality; that you’ve settled for a boyfriend who takes you for granted. You force yourself to admit the truth and accept the pity.

“No, just a table for one.”

After your sad little lunch date with yourself, you go over to Calum’s apartment. The entire drive over there is rehearsal time. You operate your car on subconscious autopilot mode. Your mind is more preoccupied with imagining how the situation out will play- including what you should say and how he would react- than on the road ahead. It’s a miracle that you don’t crash. Seeing as this is a one-person production of a two-person conversation, your practice skit doesn’t lend itself very well for preparation. When you pull up next to his building, the words still escape you, head and heart both empty.

“Calum?”

You knock twice, giving him a chance to let you in himself. But after a moment of no response, you fish your copy of his key out from your pocket, letting yourself into his home.

“Calum, I need to-”

Suddenly, your boyfriend’s comes slinking out of hallway, frantically shushing you with a finger over his lips. His hair is its normal amount of curly, his jaw tight. He is still in his sweatpants and old tshirt, clearly dressed as if he had nowhere to be today.

“Hey, ssshh, what’s wrong babe?”

How could he have the right to shush you when he’s the one who stood you up?

“My lunch date didn’t show” you deadpan. “I waited for an hour.”

The realization washes over his face like a Polaroid photo—a sudden flash in his eyes and slowly the rest of his features, one by one, reveal an image of guilt.

“Shit, I completely forgot. I –”

“That’s not even all of it, Calum” you interrupt. As soon as one problem breaks loose, the rest come bursting forth along with it. “You don’t answer my calls, and you barely look at me. It’s like you don’t want me anymore. Did-did I do something wrong? Are you done with me?”

The stifled man before you opens his mouth to offer an explanation. But he’s cut off once again by a weak yet piercing cry.

“Daddy! Daaaaady!”

Putting this fight aside, Calum rushes toward the plea for help. You hear the pain in the wail and know immediately that there are much more pressing concerns right now than your own. Dropping everything, you go after Calum into Taine’s bedroom.

The boy’s room is dark, illuminated by a single nightlight. Calum turns up the turtle shaped humidifier that sends puffs of steams into the already thick air. Then he sits beside Taine, who’s tucked under a bundle of blankets, sweaty mess of hair peeking up. Calum just strokes the tot’s head and feels to see if the fever has begun to subside.

There’s no such luck.

“Hurts daddy” Taine groans.

“I know, T. I know. Show me where it hurts?”

The sick child musters a minimal nod, pointing to his tummy. Calum fluffs the pillows up so as to prop Taine up at an angle and take some pressure off his stomach. It’s not much, and the discomfort is still a lot for a 4-year-old body to handle. But the new position and sip of water helps just enough for Taine to close his eyes again. Calum looks on the brink of a break down, because his inability to stop his own son’s misery makes any father even more miserable. Sometimes a soft coo is all a dad can offer; but sometimes a bit of reassurance is all that’s needed.

“S’okay bud. Daddy’s here. Right here.”

“How long has he been sick?”

You’re curled up against Calum on his couch now. Even though Taine was able to fall asleep, it’s evident that his father has not had much rest lately.

“It just came on so suddenly. He looked completely fine this morning when I dropped him off at preschool.  A few hours later, I get a call that he’s throwing up with a fever of 102.” Cal informs, voice already sounding desperate for sleep at 2:40 in the afternoon. “So I ran over there to take him home but forgot to tell you because I kept trying to call T’s doctor. I called her five times already but she hasn’t even called back yet. In the meantime, I’m just trying to make him as comfortable as I can. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Well, I’m just the biggest ass,” you curse yourself. “Aren’t I?”

“Y/N, it’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“I’m still so sorry. I feel like shit. It’s just that, with everything else between us, I couldn’t help but think the worst.”

Calum grabs your hand, squeezing it as he gathers the courage to finally open up.

“It’s been hard around here,” he swallows harshly. “Taine recently decided he hates all his babysitters. I have no idea what happened, but he doesn’t let any of them near him anymore.  No one will watch him so I can’t do anything besides stay home with him. He also started getting nightmares. He’ll scream for me throughout the night. Fuck, I love him more than anything. He’s everything to me. But I hope this is all just a phase because it’s so damn hard on my own and I can’t- ”

You silence him with a long chaste kiss to his forehead. If only that was enough to melt all troubles away. You try several more kisses until he composes himself.

“I wish you would’ve told me. I would have understood. I could have helped.”

“I couldn’t” he shakes his head. “You didn’t sign up for this. Taine isn’t your responsibility. He’s mine.”

“Are we back to that?” You’ve exhausted this same conversation. You’ve said it so many times, and yet, here you two are again- back to this argument for the umpteenth time. “Why-why do you keep pushing me away? Every time I think we’re past it, you do it again.”

“Because this isn’t your problem, Y/N.”

“Don’t you get it, Cal?!” You raise your voice, not so loud as to wake Taine, but loud enough to make your point. “I did sign up for this. I want Taine to be my responsibility. I want us to do this together.  Sorry if I’m being selfish, or if I’m messing with this obsession you have about doing everything on your own. But I love you so fucking much and I’m not going to-”

Calum finally takes his turn to cut you off, grabbing your face and firmly pressing his lips to yours. You immediately sigh against him, having gone far too long without a real kiss. It has the weight, the potency, of all those missing kisses into one. You’re definitely feeling the effects of it- a sudden rush of warm blood to all extremities and wave of comforting relief. He pulls you in tight and loops an arm around your wait to keep you close. The kiss refuses to let you two part until a small voice peeps out.

“Daddy?”

Taine sleepily shuffles out of his room, security blanket dragging along the floor behind him. His face scrunches at the bright light of the living room, faintest of lines folding between his brows. Like crossing a busy street, Taine bolts across the hall towards Calum, running away from the evil monsters he accused of lurking beneath his bed.

“S’okay, bud. Daddy’s here.”

Cal picks up his boy and sets Taine between you and him, sandwiching the child. Then Calum adds.