BGM - It's Late

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I'm throwing this together really fast- it's inspired by me.

"Why am I like this?" You mumbled as you stared at the image of your only half-done essay and then glanced at the clock. You had T-minus twelve hours to write a solid fifteen pages that you had several weeks to complete.

Yet you hadn't. So instead of being curled up in Calum's arms like you normally were at three in the morning, you were sitting in your study tiredly typing out meaningless run-on sentences that couldn't be good, but were at least filling the page. It was brutal, but you hadn't left yourself any other choice. This was a very important paper, nearly a quarter of your semester grade, it was a piece on the importance of photosynthesis, already dry, but especially bad so early in the morning.

You groaned and rubbed your face as you reread your last sentence. It made no sense, "and so, much like how the leaf is to the tree, so is the hand to a person, only you can't do photosynthesis to your hand," you held your finger down on the backspace button, "well that was awful to just read."

You went back to typing, the quiet clicks of your keyboard were all that could be heard in the quiet house. Well, they were, until soft footsteps tiredly padded down the stairs. You didn't hear Calum coming, you were too focused and tired, none of your energy had been spared to observe your environment.

It wasn't until he walked up behind you, and one of his arms came around to push your laptop shut that you truly recognized the fact that Calum was up, and in there with you.

"Whoa!" You flipped around, "You're up early."

"So are you," he crossed his arms, "you told me five hours ago you'd be up, 'soon'."

"I didn't realize this would take so long," you mumbled, fingers inching back toward your computer.

"Liar," Calum accused you as he slapped your hands aside, "and you're done. I'm cutting you off."

"Homework isn't an addiction, and that essay is due in twelve hours," you protested, but Calum didn't seem to care.

"Well after a good eight hour sleep you'll have four left," he reasoned as his warm arms moved around to envelop you.

His hands came down, one under your knees, and one on your back as he lifted you from your chair.

You were beginning to fight less, it was fruitless and you didn't have the energy, "or I could just do it now and sleep eight hours after."

"No," Calum had already made your mind up, and you were going to bed.


"No," he shut you down before you even started.

You huffed and remained silent until he laid you down on the bed and climbed in. You were still teetering between irritation and thankfulness when he climbed in beside you.

Calum crawled around to your back, pressing himself against you and trying to get you to cuddle, but you remained stiff.

"Come on baby, don't be like that," he mumbled. It was too dark for you to see the pout on his face but you could imagine is large pink lips pulling down into a frown. "You know you'd rather be sleeping. Don't lie." He tried a new strategy when you didn't react. "It doesn't even matter that you're up here because you'll write a bomb-ass essay no matter how much time you have. Your my little genius."

You sighed loudly and turned in his arms so you could face him, "you'll wake me up in the morning?"

"Cross my heart," he took his right hand and drew and x over his heart.

"Okay," you gave in as you relaxed against him.

A little bit of sleep couldn't hurt, especially when Calum's grip was just so comfortable. He was warm, and soft, and smelled nice.

Your paper could wait just a few more hours after your nap, after all, you'd put it off this long.

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