she slipped ; malum

trench

CALUM HAD CLOSED THE TRENCH IN ON HIMSELF FOR THREE DAYS. He had locked the window and the door and pulled the blinds down so Michael couldn't even tell if he was home or not. Traitors were not allowed back in the trenches.

Goner by Twenty One Pilots was playing for the fourth time in a row, Calum's heartbeat slow but his mind pulsing, aching to do something. Something that would make him feel better.

He was right back to where he started. Right back to being the same old, heartbroken Calum he was a few months ago, sitting alone in his room, crying over the death of his girlfriend and home videos.

Calum's door swung open, and he sat there like an unknowing deer in the headlights. Mali stood in the doorway, the credit card she used to unlock the door with tight in her hand.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Calum, you're so fucking selfish." She walked over to him and started to push his shoulders. "You think I don't already have enough shit going on that I could just gladly worry over you for the past three days? My schedule was fucking booked up!"

He blinked at her, not even seeming ashamed, even though he was. He felt bad for his sister. But he didn't ask her to wait at the door for him.

"I needed to be taking care of Jersey, but no, I couldn't. I had to make sure you hadn't fucking died in here."

He sighed, standing up. He put his arms around her, and she started to cry. "Y-You're such a fucktard. Why do you always make things harder for me?"

"If I couldn't make life harder for you, what else would I be doing?" he said, trying to cheer her up.

An awful bark of laughter came out of her lips, but ended in a sob. "Is it Michael's fault? This?"

"He was talking to Luke. Not even angry talking. They were talking like they were friends."

The curvy-ish girl backed away from her brother. "Sort it out. He was probably talking to Luke about what a dick he was, or where Ashton was."

Calum tried to smile, because that was what Mali deserved, but he couldn't. So, he just nodded and walked out of the apartment. He walked slowly to Michael's, unsure of his decision. He'd been ignoring the boy for three days and his house gave Calum a (near) panic attack.

He was already knocking on the door. Michael answered, socks, boxers and a shirt on. He looked cute. Calum would admit that.

"Hey."

Calum's voice came out dry. He'd been burying himself in his trench for a number of days, so deep that there was barely any room for breathing, so he hadn't been talking much.

Michael stood there for a minute, holding the doorknob. The Maori figured that if the door got slammed in his face, he'd walk away, and they'd never be friends again, but if he let him in, there was a possibility of knowing why Michael talked to Luke, and maybe that would solve a lot of problems.

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted you to explain something to me." Gun loaded.

"What?"

"Why were you talking to Luke?"

Michael looked as though he'd been shot. He paled even more than Calum thought was possible, and fidgeted with the bracelets on his arms, wincing.

"Wanted him to stop calling us faggots."

"You were both having a fun time talking about it." Calum replied, sounding too defensive for the redhead's liking.