Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life // malum

chapter three

It's not a hard project when it comes down to it. Without the unnecessary expressions his teacher uses and the confusing little details he likes to add just for word count and aesthetics, it's quite simple actually. Draw a story. Write a picture. Make something that represents a hardship and then present said pieces to the class in a way that makes them understand as if someone close went through it. It was a bonding exercise really, to make the class understand one another and open their eyes to seeing how everyone's lives could be different, and it was almost comical that they had to do it as a bunch of upperclassmen.

He supposes it's because of his and Michael's fight that Mr. Knight had them doing this project, something about being kind to people because you never know what they're going through. It sounded like a cheesy excuse to not have to do any proper work or lectures, but he wasn't going to complain about not having tests, worksheets, or homework for a couple weeks.

It's like a constant reminder of how much he can be snarky and down right disrespectful sometimes. Every time he looks at the paper that has, "be kind to others" written in bold, it tossed him back to their fight over a petty argument.

But old habits seem to die hard, and he wished the libraries hadn't been so full today so there were people around them to stop any quarrels from escalating — just like they were now.

He almost forgot he liked Michael when he's standing like this, anger coursing through his veins and irritation evident in his face with fire burning behind his eyes. He didn't feel happy to be standing so close to the boy that made him toss and turn late at night. He felt challenged, pushed, and he was so close to pushing back.

The heat of his breath burned when it fanned his skin, a summer wind in the already scorching day, and Calum glared at him before grabbing his uniform shirt in his fist. Their chests touched. Teeth gritted. The atmosphere of his house shifted drastically, the usual calm and mellow aura heating into frustration and rivalry.

"I said we're doing a coming out scene." Michael spat, and Calum was unsure why he couldn't seem process the phrase he's repeated maybe twenty times since they sat down to work.

"I told you I'm not drawing a boy with homophobic parents." He snapped. "Try something else."

Michael pushed closer with each emphasized word. "It's metaphoric. We need this."

Calum narrowed his eyes as he felt something twist in his stomach, that familiar feeling of adrenaline and pride swelling inside him. "It's triggering."

"That's exactly why we need to do it." Michael pushed and Calum looked down at Michael's lips. "We both relate. It's something real."

His anger flared as he watched his mouth form the words, and he wondered just how big they'd swell if he punched him. "You have no right bringing up things that don't concern you." He spoke, hand shaking with a need he couldn't quite place.

"You're one to fucking talk." He hissed and Calum's eyes widened when he was pushed back.

His knees buckled when they hit his table and he made a sound of shock when his bottom fell on to the wooden surface roughly. He almost got whiplash from snapping his gaze up so fast, and Michael grabbed him by the shirt as he leaned over him. He was intimidating him. He was all tall figure and sharp gazes, chest puffed and back straight with an intent to make him afraid. But he wasn't afraid. If he took a beating once, he sure as hell can take another if it meant he could land a few good punches in too without someone separating them.

"I thought we got over that, baby." He scoffed as he felt his chest tighten. "Get over it already."

"You're a fucking pain right in my ass, Calum." He almost growled at him and the brunet took a deep breath as he smirked.