#fullwizardstrawberry

Summary: An Art Major AU where Dallas - third year gawky art student at VCA -  makes a deal with Calum - her cute new neighbour and project partner - and they spend the semester learning that the perfect masterpiece takes a whole lot of brushwork.

Date: 3 September 2016 Requested: i mean i guess?????? not officially.  Pairing: Calum + Dallas Words: 4.4K jesus  Warnings: fluffy fluffy fluffy calum goodness (oh, and there is a mention of sexual assault near the beginning)  A/N: I really hope you guys are proud of me this month/months. This is the 3rd chapter I’ve updated in the span of like 2 weeks. I haven’t been this fast since I first started posting. I’m proud of me, and I appreciate everybody who has had a hand in helping my inspiration and motivation and to anyone who just reads because the love it. Big love xo 

Check out my ‘Brushwork’ inspiration tag x Let me know if you want to be messaged when the next update of ‘Brushwork’ is available x 

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Chapter 16: I Settled For Saying That Instead Because It Was Less Dramatic And Less Of A Giveaway That I Would Jump Off Of A Cliff If He Told Me It Would Make Him Happy.

Isabelle hadn’t slept over since earlier in my second year at VCA. It was different now than it was back then – Polly used to be a part of it, and together the three of us would be up ‘til all hours of the morning talking shit and drinking wine and doing each other’s hair. It was real slumber party happenings in our student apartment, but now it was… quiet.

“Is Polly even here?” B wondered out loud around 11pm. We were curled up in my bed binge watching Game of Thrones since we were both ridiculously behind (I’m talking entire seasons, here). She had a Costco sized packet of peanut M&M’s and I had the Ben & Jerry’s. Every now and then we’d swap over, but she had a tendency to hog the chocolate so we were long overdue. That’s why Polly had come up in conversation – she was good at mediating the snacks.

“I don’t actually know.” I admitted. “Probably at work.” It was dark but I felt like I could see Isabelle raise her eyebrow at the idea of Polly having a job.

“At the pub?” She questioned. Polly used to work at the local pub last year, and it didn’t occur to me that Isabelle wouldn’t have known that she quit that job a few months ago.

Summary: An Art Major AU where Dallas - third year gawky art student at VCA -  makes a deal with Calum - her cute new neighbour and project partner - and they spend the entire year learning that the perfect masterpiece takes a whole lot of brushwork.

Date: 4 August 2017 Requested: surprisingly yes like half a millennia ago  Pairing: Calum + Dallas Words: 4K Warnings: a little bit of self-esteem issues and some body image negativity in the beginning, but the rest is quite fluffy and calum-y goodness.  A/N: don’t ask me how long ago this was meant to be up cuz i can guarantee none of us were alive. IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE and i apologise in advance cuz the next one will probably be late too. I hope the content makes up for it though, this is one of my favourite chapters so far and I can’t wait to write more. PLEASE let me know what you think and KEEP REQUESTING THE NEXT PARTS ! It helps me write to know people are still reading :) big love x 

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Chapter 13: If Calum Touched Me Again I Would Go Into Cardiac Arrest And He’d Have To Explain To Polly And My Sister That My Heart Couldn’t Take The Feeling Of His Skin On Mine So I Chose To Succumb to Death Instead.

I felt him slide into the bed behind me. I wasn’t sure I was completely awake yet, or at least, I didn’t think I was. But I couldn’t mistake his warmth for anybody else’s, there was no way that was ever going to be possible.

“Dallas…” His voice was a whisper, and even though I was on some other plane of existence, I could still feel the slight smirk on his lips as his arms snaked around my waist and shoulders and he pulled me to him, bowing his frame to match mine as his mouth pressed against the skin of my bare shoulder. “Wake up, Sunshine…”

His lips peppered the lightest of kisses along what flesh of my shoulders and neck he could reach at that angle and for a moment I contemplated continuing to dance on the edge of consciousness just so I could feel him adore me in his own time a little more. I could never imagine what went through his mind when I wasn’t around. Part of me wished I was facing him, nose to nose, so that I could glimpse through my lashes at what his face might have looked like when he watched me when I wasn’t looking.

But I understood that some of these moments, they were his to have. I wasn’t meant to memorise every expression he had no matter how much I longed too.

With a deep breath, I cracked my eyes open and gazed over my shoulder with squinted, sleepy eyes and a lazy grin.

“Morning to you, too.” I mumbled in my less-cute, raspy morning voice. I felt a chuckle rumble deep in his chest, and the feeling made me want to press my heart up against his. I shifted in his arms, burrowing myself deeper into his arms so our chests were pressed tight against one another. I glanced up through my lashes and he was looking down on me already with the hint of smirk and the ghost of some mischievous thought deep set in chocolate brown eyes.

“Is this okay?” He whispered to me, almost like he was teasing me. I cocked a sleepy eyebrow, and just as I opened my mouth to ask what he meant he leaned in and covered my lips with his own.

They were exactly like I remembered them.

And they also weren’t real.

I opened my eyes for real this time and I was sweating from head to toe. It was late winter and I felt like I had heat stroke. I sighed, trying to stop the hyperventilating, and sat up to bury my face in my hands. It wasn’t like the dream I’d just escaped was a nightmare or anything and yet here I was, heart racing like it was. Don’t ask me why, because I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to.

When fished out my phone from the depths of my bed covers to check the time, I groaned when I realised that it was only just past six in the morning. It was too late to go back to sleep and too early to really do anything productive. But I felt lazy and lethargic – I’d been holed up in my room for nearly three days coming out only to take a dump every 12 hours. And while usually that was, like, a dream scenario for me, this time it didn’t make me feel overly good about myself. After the Wedding Incident™ I was relieved to spend that entire week wallowing in self-pity and hiding from everyone in existence. This time, though I still wanted to be invisible to society, the self-pity thing wasn’t doing much for me.

With a huff, I decided to do something I almost never did on my own out of fear of death and no one noticing. I pulled on a pair of black leggings that clung to my legs like a second skin, threw on an old baggy grey t-shirt and unearthed my bright green Adidas sneakers from the depths of my laundry pile under the bed and stared at myself in the mirror.

I hadn’t been to the gym in weeks, I’d forgotten what I looked like in my version of work-out clothes. I pulled the grey fabric of my shirt close to my frame, bunching it up behind my back and I cringed. I looked like a dickhead. I looked like a dickhead who needed to go to the gym. My thighs were bigger than usual and my love handles were more than pronounced without my Spanx on. I didn’t even want to think about the pudge that was supposedly my stomach now so I let my shirt go angrily, grabbed my phone and earphones and the loose change from my trinket tray and stormed out of my room and the apartment.

I decided (upon the realisation that I was too broke to actually go to the gym) that a nice long run to push the limits would help me release the tension and anger I had that was making my body feel so heavy and idle and stuck. I was stuck on how to feel about the situation I’d found myself in; angry that Polly had to be so brash and unapologetic. I was angry that my Mum didn’t understand me, and that Calum wasn’t home when I woke up. I was angry that this all had to happen to me – and me specifically – because I was perfectly fine flying under the radar. I was as perfectly fine as I could be just being Dallas Noel James with minimal-to-no complications.

By the time I had realised how truly furious I was I had worked up a sprint. I had no idea where I was going or how far I’d gone – it seemed like I’d been running for hours. My chest was heaving and my face was red. I could feel the sweat sticking to my skin and drenching the t-shirt on my back. I smelt terrible an I was getting a wicked migraine from not drinking any water (or even bringing any to begin with). But for some reason the burn was comforting me more than any friend or family member I had could have.

I finally slowed to a stop in the middle of a deserted and some-what-dark park. There were a couple of street lamps on, but the first light of sun was just visible behind the trees that surrounded me. I was heaving, a lot more than I was this morning, and the skin from my neck up felt red. My thighs burned and I had a stitch where my liver was probably meant to be. But I felt lighter – for a minute.

“Dallas?”

God, every time I heard my name it made me want to throw up. Or die.

I stopped attempting to stretch and turned around slowly to find no one else by the boy with the brown puppy dog eyes.

“I didn’t know you ran.” He said plainly and while I wasn’t really offended, I raised my eyebrows at the boy to see the panic rise in his eyes and drown any surprise that was lurking there. “Oh, I didn’t mean – No, Dallas, I mean… uh. That’s. I’m sorry. That was… that did sound like that in my head.” Calum cringed and I let myself force out a quite huff of a chuckle.

“It’s okay.” I laughed. “Um, I don’t run. Usually.” I explained. “Not in public anyway. I just didn’t have enough money for the gym this morning.” Calum wandered over with a sheepish smile, his black stretched out singlet willowing in the crisp morning breeze and making him seem skinner than usual. He wore a pair of baggy shorts, too, and (surprise) black Reebok’s.

“I didn’t know you went to the gym, either.” He was a bit cheekier with that line and I quirked an eyebrow at him. “You just didn’t seem the type!” He defended himself, palms in the air like he was surrendering.

“I guess not.” I laughed again and then I felt the familiar awkward feeling settle in my stomach when the small talk came to a lull and I was left standing there on the brink of death while Calum just watched me. I watched him back, but still. I didn’t think I looked like I was thinking a million things all at once.

“How’ve you been? Polly said you’ve been upset.” Calum finally said and I watched the playfulness leave his eyes and instead of making me panic it made me… sigh.

“Did she, now?” I said, pursing my lips and looking away from Calum’s face, hand on the back of my neck as I tried to ignore the sweat that was there that made my insides squirm. “Is that all she had to say?” When I glanced back at Calum he was frowning a little, lips turned down as he gave a small shrug.

“I mean, I guess.” He didn’t seem sure about that. “She said she hadn’t really seen you in a couple days. Reckons that meant you were upset.” Calum suddenly looked worried he’d said the wrong thing. I didn’t like seeing him so unsure, it tugged on my heartstrings more than usual and it was an uncomfortable feeling. So, I chuckled, and though it didn’t relieve much of the tension, Calum seemed to even out his breathing a little bit.

“Polly isn’t always right, you know.” I said very pointedly. “I’m fine, I’ve just been… busy?” I cringed. I started that sentence off so well but half-way through I realised I didn’t really have a good enough excuse to have been holed up in my room for so long, and then it sort of just came out like a question. It was Calum’s turn to cock his eyebrow at me unbelievingly and I tensed under his gaze, my cheeks flaring pink for a new reason now.

“Busy?” He questioned me and I gave a deathly slow nod, brain still running blank for anything to save me from my myself. “Are you sure?”

I didn’t say anything and just started to walk back in the direction I’d come from. Calum followed along beside me, naturally, saying nothing, naturally, and waiting for me to decide when I was ready to talk. I wasn’t, really, but the longer we spent walking in silence (apart from my erratic breathing mixing in with the wind) the more uncomfortable I got. I had to say something or it was going to eat me alive and I’d probably end up falling apart in Calum’s arms for a third time and I was worried that if Calum touched me again I would go into cardiac arrest and he’d have to explain to Polly and my sister that my heart couldn’t take the feeling of his skin on mine so I chose to succumb to death instead. I’d embarrassed myself enough for one lifetime.

“I, um.” I tried to clear my throat but it didn’t work too well and I ended up choking on my breath and coughing up a lung. Calum offered me his water and I took it graciously, careful not to let our fingers touch. “Thanks.” He chuckled lightly as I handed back the blue bottle.

“You were saying?” He smiled gently. I wanted to die just from that look, it was so cute.

“I – yeah.” I took a deep breath. “I just, um. I needed some time to think.” Was what I come up with and, without jinxing it, I was actually kind of proud of my honesty. “It was a crazy weekend.” I watched from the corner of my eye as Calum nodded with a slight smirk twitching on his lips.

“I heard.” He said, managing hold in his laughter I could see threatening to spill musically from pink lips. “Tequila and pizza party, huh?” He side-eyed me and I gave an uncomfortable, clearly embarrassed titter. I coughed lightly again, sheepish, and Calum sniggered.

“Yeah…” I mumbled. “After…. everything… Polly and Ashton wanted to relax and show me how we’d done.” There was a small lull in the conversation as Calum and I both thought back to that night and how I’d ended up a sobbing mess in his bed in the middle of the night. I cringed at the memory and when I looked back up at Calum, the playfulness in his eyes had died and he looked positively worried. Guilty, even, but mostly afraid. Of what, who knew. I was under the impression he was a modern-day Hercules and wasn’t afraid of anything.

“You didn’t like the photos?” He asked and my eyes widened.

“What? No.” I accidentally yelled. “I mean, no, I-I did.” My mouth gaped like a fish as I tried to recover that sentence. The look in Calum’s eyes hadn’t changed – in fact I think I’d just made it worse – and I desperately needed to change that.

“I didn’t mean that. Of course, I liked them.” I said slower. “I loved them.” Slowly, Calum looked less hurt and more… concerned. His eyebrow twitched as he was trying to piece together everything that happened with everything I’d just said. Part of me wished he wouldn’t – there was so much about that night that I didn’t remember, but I remembered enough that I didn’t want to relive any of it either.

“So what happened?” He asked. “Why… why were you so upset?” I tried to play it off.

“I’m an emotional drunk?” I said with a hopeful smile and a shrug. Calum didn’t fall for it, he just gave me a sidelong look. I sighed. “Sorry.”

“Why do you do that?” Calum was frowning now, not necessarily in a disappointed way, just in a confused way. “Every time someone tries to get into your head and ask if you’re okay you play it off like it doesn’t matter.”

“Because it doesn’t!” I gave a dark, unintentional laugh into the open air around us. The sun had come up from behind the trees behind us, now, but even with the rays hitting our backs I still shivered. “It doesn’t matter why I get upset because there are bigger problems in the world.” I looked Calum dead in the eyes this time, because that was the truth and he was never going to believe me if I didn’t look him in the eyes for longer than a millisecond. “I don’t like feeling full of myself. And if I get over it and stop feeling sorry for myself then maybe there’s a chance social demise won’t be my thing for much longer.”

Saying it all out loud, repeating Ashton and Polly’s words, hurt. And it made me want to start running all over again.

Calum’s fingers brushed mine ever so slightly and when I didn’t immediately recoil from his touch, Calum intertwined his fingers with mine. My heart rate sky rocketed, but I was surprisingly cool about it (apart from the fact that I couldn’t stop staring at our hands and wondering if maybe the gaps in his hands were meant for mine to fill them).

“It does matter.” He told me, and it wasn’t quiet or careful or even remotely like he was feeling sorry for me at all. “But just because you don’t want to be upset anymore, it doesn’t mean you don’t have to feel anything.”

I didn’t look at him when he spoke or even after. I just let him squeeze my hand gently for a moment and then when I was ready, I let it go.

“I’ll race you to the McDonald’s at the end of the street.” I said and took off without letting him agree. He yelled out after me and called me a bitch through a loud laugh and I laughed back and just pumped my arms and prayed that maybe I’d be better than Calum at something. I had no idea what possessed me to think that I could beat Calum at anything let alone at running. He was this athletic God and this was the first time I’d been running in – well, I didn’t even know how long.

It was inevitable that Calum would not only beat me, but have ordered us breakfast already (I gave up when he breezed passed me two seconds but also again when I tripped over my own feet and fell flat on my face).

“Here.” Calum was still laughing after I told him what happened. I scowled as I took the napkins he’d gone and gotten for me and pressed one to the gash on my cheek and balled another in my fist to stop the bleeding on my palm. “How’s your knee?”

“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes but a smile twitched on my lips even though the bruise on my knee throbbed at the mention of it. Calum laughed one more time before gesturing for me to move the napkin from my face. I did as I was told and watched Calum inspect the wound as if he knew what he was looking at from a completely medical perspective.

“This is your fault, you know.” I told him very matter-of-factly. His eyes widened but they didn’t meet mind.

“In what world?!” He wailed at me and I winced when he started dabbing a fresh napkin to the now-slowing bleeding on my face a little too roughly, over the table even though it probably wasn’t overly comfortable for him.

“In the world that if you’d left me alone this morning and finished your run on your own without me!” Calum rolled his eyes and offered me a challenging look.

“Yeah, cuz that’s such a polite thing to do.” He deadpanned, and I cocked my eyebrow at him in my own challenge.

“Yeah, and in what world do you care about being polite?” I smirked. I was sure I had him now. Yes, the sweet, sweet taste of Revenge Sass™.

“Hey,” Calum’s eyes were playful again, but there was something else there deep set in his eyes that I couldn’t quite recognise. “I like to be polite to the girls I like.”  

Calum took back his hand and the napkin as if he hadn’t just said the words that would be the cause of my death. I was suddenly finding it hard to breath, especially as Calum left at the sound of the girl behind the counter calling out our number.

Be it hopeful (or maybe in my case, fearful) thinking, or just a case of complete dumbass-ery, I could only think of one thing Calum could have meant by the words girls that he liked. And I was dumbfounded and almost horrified because there was no way I could have fallen into that category.

I mean, sure, we’d established some grounds that we were friends and he’d have to like me to some extent for either of us to be able to admit that. But, like. It was me. He was Calum. Did he like me? Like, like-like, me? Like that?

I was having a brain aneurism trying to figure I out, and by the time Calum returned with the try of warm food, hot coffee and he was already talking about something else.

“Anyway,” He sat down and started to divide the food. He’d gotten two of everything – two breakfast muffins, two sets of hot cakes, to coffees and two juices (and two hashbrowns each!). I probably wasn’t going to finish it all, but I would try if it meant Calum would talk to me a little longer.  “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“Uh, okay.” I busied my mouth with my muffin so I wouldn’t say something dumb.

“About the other night.”

“Uh. Okay?”

“When you were in my bed.”

“Yeah, alright, don’t remind me.” I shuddered. That was the first time someone had said the actual words out loud. They sounded… unlike me. But Calum laughed at my reaction and continued talking like I’d said nothing.

“You left something behind that night.” I was already praying it wasn’t my underwear. “I found your sketch book on my desk the next morning, after you’d left.” And I was officially fucked. Calum’s grin spread from ear to ear. “Dallas, your work, those pieces are incredible!” He was so excited. “I mean, I knew you were talented but holy shit.” He was talking with his mouth full and I was smiling sheepishly, uncomfortably, and my stomach wasn’t ready for this information after the last thing he’d said. I didn’t even realise that my book was missing, let alone that Calum had it. I really felt like I was going into cardiac arrest now – or maybe I was having a stroke. Who knows.

“Uh.” I sipped at my coffee, welcoming the almost burnt taste despite burnt coffee being one of my least favourite things. “Yeah, thanks… It, um. Yeah, I work really hard on those.”

Despite everything, I couldn’t pretend hearing Calum say that didn’t feel even a little good.

“I can tell.” He nodded. “I had a thought, and I wanna run it passed you.”

I looked at Calum, saying nothing and just watching as the brown eyed boy collected his thoughts and rearranged the words in his mouth. I watched and waited and part of me was curious about what he had to say. The other part was afraid, because I had a feeling I knew where this was going.

“I wanna use your latest drawings for the mural. I want to use the ballet dancer, paint her as a figurine or a music box or something, and then have her fall apart piece by piece and then put back together in a different pose. I’ve drawn up a rough sketch based on your drawings back home, but what do you think?”

It went where I thought it would, and I was less afraid than I thought I would be. Truth had it, that’s what the ballerina drawings were for. Not that exact design that Calum had described, but when I was drawing her I was thinking about how much time ballet dancers spent trying to be the embodiment of perfection and how even their mistakes looked more elegant when they didn’t call them mistakes and instead just found… peace.

I didn’t need to see Calum’s rough sketch to know that I wanted to go ahead with his design. So that’s what I said.

“I’m in.” I said with a grin. “Yeah, that sounds perfect. Let’s do it.” Calum’s grin stayed lopsided and happy.

“Will you be the ballerina?” He asked, eyes hopeful and excited. I blinked at him, a little blankly and not too sure what he meant.

“Huh?” I asked over my coffee. “What do you mean?”

“Can we paint the ballerina… well, can she look like you?” He clarified and I felt both flattered and embarrassed.

“Oh.” I mumbled out some weird inhuman murmur that weren’t really words at all. “Oh, no, I don’t – um. That’s probably not a good idea.” I chuckled and Calum just looked at me longingly.

“Why not?” He smiled, trying to encourage me to change my mind, I think. “You did really well at the shoot, the photos are beautiful.” I blushed again from the neck up. But instead of stuttering I cleared my throat and shrugged.

“We’ll see.” I said and Calum grinned again, tucking into his hotcakes more chipper than before.

“I have one more question.” He told me after a few minutes of comfortable silence. I looked up, sipping at my juice through the straw and putting the cup back down.

“What’s that?”

“Luke’s singing at this low key open mic night thing Friday night and he asked for some moral support.” Calum cleared his throat. “Do you… I dunno, do you wanna maybe come with me?” I nodded slowly, thinking.

“Yeah, I mean,” I shrugged again. “If Luke wants me there, sure.” Calum chuckled.

“Uh, right.” He just about snorted, he was trying so hard not to laugh. “Well the thing is, I want you there.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Like a date?” I asked. Calum smiled.