21 May 2017
06:58
"Harry, you really have to be more quiet when leaving the flat," I heard Cal say as he laughed. "And back away from the ledge, you scare me whenever you come up here."
"I just needed somewhere to think," I sighed, climbing down from the ledge.
"We can do some thinking inside while drinking some hot chocolate." Cal yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Just come inside please, I really don't know what I'd do without you honestly."
I saw a nearly empty bottle of beer in Cal's hand, "How many of those have you had?"
"One to many because -hic- I thought you left me. I -hic- yknow, have some stuff to tell you when I'm sober. You'll probably leave me. -Hic- Honesty is the best policy right? No get down you're scaring me," Cal hiccups again and I could see he had been crying as well as drinking. "How long have you been up here anyways?"
"Way to long," I sighed, putting my arm around him to help him down the stairs.
----
Well, I was crying. Not over my sister or Chris, but over Cal. He had said originally that what he was going to tell me was probably going to make me cry, and he wasn't lying. They weren't cold tears though, they were tears that were warm. It was like it was an anger mixed with happiness, not pure anger or pure sadness.
Cal did lie about one part though, he said I'd leave him after he told me everything. I didn't leave him after he told me though, I held him in my arms, holding his head to my chest. He told me everything. He told me everything about his former relationship he was in and how he was physically abused.
The story explained why so many bruises appeared on my shins, arms, and face every now and then. Whenever he was hit, it bruised in both him and me. We shared pain. He shared the same cuts on his wrists when I cut my wrists.
In his drunken state, he shared everything about his life before he met me. "And when I met you, it just seemed like everything clicked -hic- y'know? It just -hic- makes sense and everything. If you don't get it, that's -hic- okay. I'm drunk so nothing makes sense," Cal babbled.
"No, it's ok," I smiled, letting a tear slip down my cheek, "you're okay now."
"Whatever -hic- you say, Boggy," Cal said, turning his body to rest his head in my lap. "Hey, what's the definition of perfection?"
"I don't know, Freezy. Maybe perfection is just a misconception. I think we're perfect in a tragic way," I laughed, twisting the soft brown hair on his head. His eyes flickered up to mine, then back to the window.
"I think we're perfectly -hic- tragic," he smiled, closing his eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Different Font // WroetoFreezy {AU}
Fanfiction-Number 8 on vikklan- -Number 4 on wroetofreezy- Teachers always tell you not to write on your arm. Ink poison and skin problems can happen because you used a black, ball point pen that had cat stickers all over it. I'm calling bull on that one...
