complementary {cth}

0.8

i had to ride the train to my parents' house which was not very fun at eleven pm. you always got drunks, irritated people who slept past their stop, and the occasional overly creepy person. i always made sure to sit near the door so i could quickly exit. i had dealt with these things all of my life but when i was tired i got paranoid. i eventually had to call calum to keep my mind off of it.

"babe," he groaned when he answered, "it's eleven pm."

"i know, i'm sorry. i'm on the train so i can get to my parents and this guy keeps staring at me," i whispered into the phone.

i heard shuffling on the phone and a few murmurs from calum that were followed with sneezes.

"you're getting sick, aren't you?" i asked, a small smirk creeping onto my pink lips.

"no!" he protested. his voice was thick and he was trying to hold back a cough.

"oh, cal," i cooed.

"shut up, i'm fine. i would be sleeping it off but someone just had to call."

i pursed my lips, "i'm scared and seeking comfort from my boyfriend but he won't let me have it."

"hmm," he hummed in appreciation, "i love it when you call me that."

i smiled and blushed like i did every time he said something dumb and cliché. he had an undeniable effect on me and i wasn't sure how to handle it.

"you'll be okay, sweetheart. how far away are your parents? i thought they lived in manhatten."

"they actually live outside of the city. they come into the city for art or music. apparently living out in the country provides more serene and natural inspiration for them. i prefer the fast-paced city life with all the culture and history," i elaborated for him.

"i understand their reasoning for living outside of the city but i can experience more in the city which gives me more song material. for example, i wouldn't meet you amongst the trees."

"have you written any songs about me?" i asked shyly.

"yeah. it's called 'i've known you for a month and can't form a single coherent thought when i'm around you so how the fuck do i write about it'," he joked.

i bursted out into a fit of laughter. i covered my mouth in hopes to muffle it but people were already staring at me or glaring because i woke them up.

"your laugh is so beautiful," he sighed peacefully.

i blushed profusely and bit my lip to suppress yet another smile. i hugged my knees to my chest so i could press my face into them with the phone still pressed against my ear.

"'m'about to fall asleep," he murmured.

"do you want me to go?"

"no, of course not. talk to me until you get there."

i hummed a little as i tried to think of what to say to him. i was quiet and not much a risk taker so i didn't have that many interesting stories. majority of my interesting stories were from my childhood. i decided on telling him how i started to get serious in art.

"when i was ten my dad thought it would be fun to go camping for two weeks. this was very unordinary and it sounded horrible considering i had just gotten acclimated with the city life. he still bought a camper and dragged my mother along with him to the middle of nowhere in the woods. i whined and threw mini tantrums so my parents put me outside with paper and paint. i really just doodled here and there but with the paint i started to do more with art. i drew the trees or animals i saw. i was painting an intricate sunset which was the first time i got lost in my artwork. needless to say my parents were impressed even though they were so mad at every bug and all the fresh air they smelled."