Blame It On September

Part Twenty Six

Calum's P.O.V.

I opened my eyes and saw her lying next to me, still sleeping, with the sheets wrapped around us. I reached for my phone at the bedside table, checking the time and saw 25 new messages and a missed call. I shrugged, opening a couple of messages from my mom and Luke.

I yawned as I turned around, hugging her and watching her sleep. She sleeps so comfortable. She looks so perfect, I thought. I traced her outline with my finger, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Good morning," she mumbles, smiling with her eyes still shut.

"Good morning, princess," I replied, beaming at her. "Can you please go back to sleep? I wanna take a picture of you."

She giggled, hitting me playfully in the tummy. "No, not happening. What time is it?"

I pouted but then smiled, pulling her closer to me. "Doesn't matter. I'd never get tired waking up next to you."

"You know what," she said. "Luke will kill you!"

"He doesn't have to find out," I chuckled, winking at her. I continued as I got on top of her. "Neither this one!"

I leaned in, pressing my lips into hers. She giggled; "no. Morning breathe! Get off!"

"Mmm no," I smiled, as I ran my fingers in her shoulder down her waist. I started tickling her sides.
"Calum! Stop!" She laughed, trying to push me off her.

"No," I repeated, as I continue to tickle her. "Tell me you love me."

"What?"

"Tell me you love me."

"Why? No!"

"Tell me I'm cute then. Or squishy. I like that. I call my dogs that sometimes at night when I wanna cuddle them. Cause they are squishy."

""You what? Really?" she eyed me, laughing.

"Yeah. Now, tell me you lavalava love me and I'm es-cueee-sheeeeeee!"

"I won't," she said, still laughing. Then her breathing changed. "Calum. Stop. Stop. I can't---"

"Hey, hey," I stopped, kneeling beside her as I held her hand. Her other hand was on her chest as she tries to catch her breathe. "Baby, what's happening? Are you okay?"

"My asthma," she cried.

"What? I didn't knew you had asthma," I said, panicking. "What do I do?"

"Inhaler. Bag," she tried to say.

"Okay, stay still," I said, rushing to the table where we left our things last night, unzipping her bag. "Fuck! You don't have your fucking inhaler here! Baby, wh--- the fuck? You're not funny."

As I turned around, she was already standing behind me, laughing. She looks perfectly fine. "I'm not trying to be funny. But I got you!"

"You don't have asthma at all?" I asked, knitting my eyebrow.

"I have," she grinned. "But I faked it. It's mild anyway, I don't really rely on inhaler."

I raised my eyebrow as i bit my lower lip, leaning closer to her. "You scared me, you know. I won't let you get away with it."

"You're not gonna bug about being squishy, right?" She giggled nervously. "Cause I'm so not saying it."

"Oh, I still am. But this time," I replied, stopping just an inch away from her lips, locking eyes with her. "With that pretty lips of yours on mine."

Then we laughed, crashing down the bed. We just lay there for almost an hour, cuddling each other as we talked about the most random things we can think of before we checked out and grabbed a bite. Soon, we were on the train, heading back to Mark's.

I love every second with her.

I love her.

If only she doesn't have to leave...