𝕤𝕒𝕟 𝕗𝕣𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕚𝕤𝕔𝕠 • 𝕝.𝕙

thirty

As I sat here next to Calum, on that worn-out leather sofa that I had spent way too many drunken, fiery and sometimes depraved nights on, I didn't know how I felt.

Every single move he made and every word he said came through my ears like a painful ringing sound you couldn't shake off -- and at every minute passing, I was getting more and more aware of what had happened between the both of us a few months back. Just as if it was hitting me now.

He knew, too. I could see it in the way he looked at me, like he was afraid that I would know that he knew. But I wasn't stupid, and neither was I easily deceived.

Calum moved slightly further away from me right after I thought about the distance between us getting way too close - it was as if he had read through my mind and was trying to not blow things, this time. After all, we were waiting for Luke, weren't we? He would come soon... Or would he? And why the hell was Calum alone in his apartment?

I had gotten little to no clarification in the past hour or so about his whereabouts. Calum refused to give out any information, but was somehow keen to keep me here while we were waiting. Or at least, I think we were waiting?

I shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. It creaked as I moved, breaking the actual silence in the room.

I had taken off my shoes and was waiting for whatever was going to happen next. The feeling of nervousness had make its way inside of my body like a snake, my heart feeling trapped in some sort of cage while the pain in my stomach was getting more and more noticeable. And even as I drank the outrageously expensive whisky, the tangy taste burning my throat, I couldn't shake this sheer feeling of anxiety off.

"I'm still really confused about what's happening, Calum," I said, my heart beating a little louder. The tension was unbearable.

He scratched his throat.

"What do you mean?" he reached for his whisky glass that was sitting on the wooden table, taking a whiff, before gulping the whole thing down.

"You know what I mean," I replied. He handed me my glass. "I don't want any more."

"Such a fucking killjoy, Lex," he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides.

"I'm going to ask you one more time where Luke is, and if you don't answer, I'm just going to drive back to Portland. It's... I'm wasting my time."

He sighed.

"Luke is not even in fucking San Francisco, Lex," he groaned, visibly frustrated about having to give me an answer.

I frowned my eyebrows, getting closer to him. "Then where is he?"

"He's just... He's down in LA for the weekend," he replied, reaching for the bottle. "He's doing music stuff."

"So what," I was feeling close to appalled. "You're apartment sitting, then?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, well... Not really. You know, Lex... Someone had to feed the fish tonight."

I glanced at the aquarium that was sat at the top of the entryway, suspicious. But of course. That had to be the stupidest excuse I'd ever heard, but it made sense in a way that felt pathetic. I got a strange feeling from whatever Calum was telling me, whether it was the truth or the most miserably inadequate lie. I sighed again.

"I mean..." I started. "You know, I guess it makes sense. It is... Still extremely strange to hear this and I only half-believe it."

"I was just feeding the goddamn fish," he laughed. "I guess I must have known you were on your way here."

I wanted to smile when I heard him say that, but I refrained. I didn't want him to make me smile. I didn't want him to make me feel anything, in fact, but his sheer presence felt almost electric next to mine, and it was as if his body radiated anticipation and nerves.