daddy's little girl *

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calum loved your family, of course he did

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calum loved your family, of course he did. he loved them almost as much as he loved you. the only thing he didn't like about your family was how religious they were. no— that came out wrong. how forceful they were with religion.

you were raised in a Catholic household- your father was a priest (is now retired) and your mother a stay-at-home mom.

see, calum had no problem with this. your parents were wonderful people, so kind and genuine and warm hearted. but the thing he could not stand was going to church with you on christmas eve. which is why, usually, you didn't. when it was just you and calum. but this year you were visiting your quite Catholic family, as the previous year you'd visited calum's quite Athiest family. he promised you that he would go though, at least attend church on christmas eve, but only if you did something for him. this is why you stayed in a hotel and not at your family's house.

calum was struggling to keep up his end of the bargain. currently he stood in your parent's bedroom, in front of the mirror, as you sat behind him on the foot of the bed. he was tying his tie, an unhappy expression written across his face.

"i don't want to do this, y/n."

"calum, we're leaving in twenty minutes. you can't just back out," you said, crossing your arms over your chest. you wore a black dress which hugged your curves, but not too much as you knew your father would make you change. calum wore a white button up and black dress pants, matching one of your father's ties with the outfit as he'd forgotten his own back home in la. a home which calum missed dearly.

"this isn't fair," he whined, turning around. you sighed, standing up to fix his tie. "i didn't make you go to church with us last year."

"yeah, because your family doesn't do that stuff. mine does." you tightened the tie, running your fingers along his shoulders as you looked at him. "do this for me, cal. please."

"baby-" he groaned.

"when's the last time i ever complained about doing something for you?" your hands came down to his, stroking his knuckles as he looked at you intently.

"you didn't wanna do my laundry."

"i mean something important, dummy."

after racking his brain for a moment, calum sighed. you were right; there was never anything that you'd complain about when it came to him. you always accompanied him to award shows or came to his concerts. hell, half the time you volunteered. maybe calum should do this. just for you.

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