Calum - Haunted House AU Part 2

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Author: Rhine

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we are all searching for someone

whose demons play well with ours

.

Wake up.

The two words swim in and out of your head in rusty, dull echoes as you swam in and out of consciousness, your head muddled and confused.

Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

The words get a little clearer, the tone a little sharper — it was a voice you knew well, one with a deep timbre and throaty rumble behind every syllable.

Wake up.

Wake up.

"Wake up."

Your eyes slowly blink open, the world hazy and fuzzy before you as you tried to refocus your sleep-ridden eyes to the world before you.

He's the first thing you see.

Calum.

The ends of his wavy hair reaching down to you, the shadows casted from his sculpted cheekbones, his earthy eyes and smirking lips.

"And here I was, thinking about having to kiss you awake."

His tone is playful, teasing, like it always was, down to the grin on his mouth.

"What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

His eyes narrow, as if trying to figure out whether or not you were kidding or not.

But your head is too muddle for coherent memories, let alone games — you shake your head slightly, and Calum lets out a faint hiss of breath, his mouth melting into an easy smile.

"You fell asleep, babe."

"I — what?"

"You didn't want to see the gory parts so you hid in my arms — nice choice, if I do say so myself — and somehow you managed to sleep through a thirty-minute bloody massacre. Which was pretty awesome, if I do say so myself."

Your expression twists into one of confusion, slowly sitting up and propping yourself on one of the sofa's cushions — your sofa's cushion — with the help of Calum's steady hands guiding you.

"We didn't go to the haunted house?"

"'Course not, babe. You didn't want to go, and I didn't want to push you."

"But you've been practically begging me for the past two months about going. We didn't — we didn't go?"

"We've been here the whole night, babe. You don't remember?"

You shake your head no, still trying to process everything.

But the slashes on the wall — the cobwebs on the doors — the decay of the wood — the creaking of the stairs — the echo of his voice — the whispers of the house —

"You had a long day, love. You must be tired."

He wraps you up in his sturdy arms, kissing the top of your forehead lightly. You close your eyes and breathe in his familiar, woodsy scent, taking in the warmth of his arms and his worn fingers tracing your back.

"Yeah, it's.... it's been a strange day."

You bury yourself deeper into Calum's chest and he holds you tighter, propping the rest of his body up on the couch with yours and wrapping himself around you like a blanket.

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