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dc418writes · 6 months

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✨Pairing✨: trucker!Ari Levinsonxblack!reader

Summary🪄: It’s always a time when uncle Ari comes around

⚠️: uncle!Ari (just as damaging as dad!Ari and regular Ari lol) mention of nightmares, pretty much all fluff💕

A/N🎤: Hey guys! Another Halloween themed fic but this time with a softer Ari😌. This will serve as atonement to myself (and others who might be affected) for daring to make my fave dark in my last post lol. Hope you guys like it!!

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pics used as they were all found on Pinterest*

As expected, four year old Grace had been attached to Ari since the moment you both arrived to babysit for the night. You wouldn’t say you were upset seeing that he was her uncle and that they’ve talked nearly every day since she could babble, but there was still a little sting every time you were greeted with a quiet “hi” or short wave before she was gone and you long forgotten.

Like now as they dug through their shared pumpkin emptying it’s stringy contents while you were in charge of decorating the sugar cookies waiting on the cooling rack.

“S’cold!,” she squealed dumping out her handful of pumpkin guts.

“Be careful of the seeds, you swallow one and a huge pumpkin’s gonna grow in your belly,” Ari warned to which little Grace quickly shook her head.

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!”

“No uncle Ari, we can eat. See?” Before either of you can say anything, she’s quick to set one on her tongue happily chewing until she can swallow it down rubbing her belly. “I’m fine.”

“I guess you showed me huh,” he chuckles tapping her nose and leaving some juice from his finger on her skin successfully turning it light orange. Grace is quick to retaliate though rubbing her hands on his cheeks to leave behind tiny pieces of string as she giggles - and you do too from the other side of the kitchen.

Honestly you couldn’t blame her for picking Ari over you as her favorite. You’d choose him too if you had to pick between the two of you.

“Alright, it’s pretty much cleaned out now. You want scary or funny?,” he asks watching as she adorably tapped her tiny finger to her temple in thought.

“Hmm…funny!”

“Got it,” he nods. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and help your aunt with cookies?”

“I got everything we could ever want Grace,” you smile reaching in your grocery bag full of decorating goodies. “There’s sprinkles - three different shapes I might add - glitter, edible stickers, and stencils to help us draw shapes!”

The way she gazed at the sprinkles with her mouth in a little “o”, you think you’ve got her. Finally able to bond with her over a shared love of cookies like you were in one of those Hallmark movies. Like a little happy family.

“Um..wanna stay with uncle Ari.”

Well, so much for that.

“Oh okay,” you answer successfully hiding your hurt behind your nonchalance. Ari still notices though giving you a sympathetic smile and mouthing, “sorry.”

You appreciated him trying, but maybe you were just meant to be the fun uncle’s wife that barely got a hello. And who tends to go overboard with cookie decorating supplies.

•

“Alright ladies are we ready?,” Ari asks sitting on the navy blue sectional between you and a bouncy Grace nodding yes. During your spaghetti dinner - made by Ari since apparently his was the best although he used your recipe - he suggested that you all watch a movie afterwards.

Specifically, Gremlins.

His thought process being what better way for everyone - more so you and Grace - to spend time together than to watch a movie? Especially a spooky one seeing that it was the night before Halloween. You, on the other hand, had a few concerns on his niece potentially being scared of the little troublesome creatures.

“She’ll be fine. It’s not that scary,” he assured kissing your cheek.

Freshly bathed and in her appropriately themed pumpkin pajamas, Grace couldn’t wait holding on tight to her Mickey Mouse blanket as she watched her uncle press play.

“Share with me!,” she smiles just as Ari spreads the bigger, cream blanket over both yours and his lap.

“I’m not gonna fit though bug.”

“Uh huh! Watch,” she states crawling into his lap and neatly spreading the grey blanket over her legs and his thighs. You - again - casted off to the side with your blanket as she tilts her head back to look up at him. “We fit!”

“Y-Yea, looks like we do.” He gives you another sympathetic smile draping his arm around your shoulders while you bundle deeper under the blanket.

“I’d rather be by myself anyway. Little does she know her uncle is a blanket hog,” you think trying to make yourself feel better.

•

Ari appeared to be right on Grace not being scared. She even fell asleep towards the end with her upper half on the cushion next to them and lower half still on his lap; mouth wide open pointed towards the ceiling. Ari was the one to tuck her in bed, while you cleaned up the blankets and plates of cookie crumbs left in the living room.

You were the last to enter the shared guest room to finally get ready for bed yourself. Your love struck husband taking turns gazing at you and the last period of some hockey game as you strode back and forth from the bathroom to the bedroom. A small, dopey smile on his lips watching you wash your face and apply all your products.

“Share with me?,” he pouts with those puppy eyes making you giggle while sliding into the full sized bed.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, “I feel like Grace is gonna somehow come in saying how she wants you to sleep in her room instead because that’s where you’re supposed to be.”

Yes probably a little petty, but you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

His tattooed arms bring you closer into his body pecking the top of your head as you settle between his pecs. A low “aw” vibrating in his chest while his hands rub along your back.

“I know I probably sound jealous, but I’m not. I love how you have a great relationship with your niece! But it’s like she hates me and I have no idea what I did.”

He knew that had always been a bit of a fear for you. Kids hating you for whatever reason, thus meaning you shouldn’t have them although you did desire to be a mother one day. It’s why you were nervous meeting Grace all those years ago, afraid that the smallest mess up would ruin everything.

It didn’t help that the minute Ari passed her to you, she began whining and squirming. Your coos of comfort and gentle rocks didn’t seem to help, only making her more agitated not getting what she wanted. She didn’t stop until she was back in Ari’s strong arms and you kept your distance the rest of the visit cautious of a repeat interaction.

If only he could get you to ignore that fear and really see how everyone you met - adults and children alike - had no issues with you. Some even left enchanted by the charisma you thought you lacked.

“I promise, she doesn’t hate you gorgeous.”

“She said so?,” you quietly ask lifting your head with a hint of hope.

“Well…no. But she didn’t say the opposite either.” He tried to soothe your qualms, but it’s not helping the way he hoped watching your head fall back to his chest with a light huff. “Trust me sweetheart. I guess she’s just attached to me because-,”

“You’re amazing and clearly the favorite,” you mumble making him chuckle.

“I was gonna say because I talk to her more, but I’ll take the compliment.”

It’s not long after that you’re both falling asleep lulled by the shared warmth from holding each other. Ari’s soft snores vibrating the side of your face still lying on his chest.

You think you’re dreaming when a mix of a whine and cry hits your ears disrupting your rest and making you groggily sit up. Hearing feet shuffling outside your door though confirms those sounds are in fact real, giving you more motivation to investigate.

Your husband’s too far gone in his own dreamland to be affected by your moving; still lightly snoring with an arm over his forehead and the other out by his side.

Quietly opening the door, you wrap your arms around yourself in your thin pajama set feeling the chill of the night air seeping into your sister in law’s house before carefully padding out to the living room. There, you notice something on the couch moving under the blanket you folded earlier causing you to freeze in place. It was then you realized you probably should’ve woken Ari up so he could be the one playing detective or at least grabbed something you could use to defend yourself.

“H-Hello?,” you call out to the dim space only lit by a couple plug in nightlights in the walls.

“Hi,” Grace’s soft voice responds with a short sniffle.

You also realize how you’re sleepy brain might not be fully thinking straight unable to conclude earlier how it could just be your own niece sitting there on the couch.

Stepping closer, you sit on the cushion next to hers peeling back the cotton throw until you see her splotchy face and red eyes. Water attached to her curled lashes and some still threatening to spill over. “What’s wrong?”

“Bad dream…gwemlins,” she answers using the blanket to wipe her eyes. You immediately hug her close as you coo and assure her everything’s okay.

And surprisingly, she hugs you back.

Her tiny arms wrap tight around you - well, as far as they could with her adorably short reach - almost refusing to let you go.

“Yea, when they get angry they can be scary huh?”

She nods. “And have very very sharp teeth.”

“They do, but luckily they’re not real so there’s nothing-,”

A crash from the back room startles both of you making Grace scream, with the six year old nearly choking you now having her arms around your neck.

“It’s them!,” she cries hiding her face in your shoulder just as Ari limps into the living room holding his knee and appearing half asleep.

“Damn dresser,” he grumbles wiping his eyes that quickly fill with concern seeing both of you on the couch and his niece upset. “What’s wrong?”

“Grace had a nightmare about Gremlins,” you answer pointedly glaring at him as if saying, “I told you so!”

The slight wince on his face isn’t just from an uncomfortable knee as he walks forward to perch on the coffee table. “I’m sorry bug. I didn’t mean to show that to you to scare you.”

“Not nice uncle Ari,” she mumbles still attached to you.

“Forgive me?,” he pouts holding his arms out for a hug. “Peas?”

Wiping her eyes one last time, a small smile begins to spread on her lips as she moves from you to Ari. A fit of giggles rapidly escaping her mouth as his larger body practically swallows hers in a bear hug and he attacks her cheeks with kisses. A dramatic “mwah” sounding every time he made contact causing you to giggle as well.

And fantasize the undoubtedly joyful future you’d both have with your own children.

“Don’t do it again!,” she chastises when he stops. Wagging her finger inches from his nose making him chuckle. She was definitely her mother’s child.

“I promise I won’t.”

“Alright guys,” you sigh, “Since it’s gonna be a bit difficult to go back to sleep, I say we watch something happy.”

“Not Gwemlins!”

“No definitely not,” you chuckle. “I was thinking..Aladdin.”

“Yay! I love Aladdin!,” she claps in Ari’s arms as he picks her up so they both can sit on the couch. To both of your surprise, Grace crawls from her uncle’s lap and squeezes between you and Ari. “You like too?”

“Mhm, I even went as Princess Jasmine for Halloween when I was little.” You have to admit, seeing that gleam of admiration in her eyes as she gazed up at you made you silently thank Ari for showing her that movie. It was the reason behind this bonding moment that you didn’t think would happen.

As the movie played, you and Grace talked about the scenes and of course sung along to your heart’s content not caring if you were off key. All the while Ari watched you both with a soft smile on his pink lips loving how fast of friends you’d become.

And when you both fell asleep - you leaning on his shoulder and her across your lap - he couldn’t help but sneakily take a picture with his phone. Sending it to you with a message saying “looks like you’re amazing and a clear favorite too😉”.

#ari levinson #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x woc #ari levinson au #red sea diving resort #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

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lovesosweeet · 5 months

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better left unsaid // cth

chapter twenty eight

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

october 1, 2018 san diego, california orion

I should’ve seen it coming. I should’ve seen Calum’s reaction coming. I know him so well that I should have been able to predict how he would react to my confession, but, I guess it was a situation that nobody really knows how they’ll react to until they’re in the moment. The look on his face when I told him… I never want to see that level of anger and disappointment and heartbreak on anyone’s face, ever again.

It felt like a punch to my gut, over and over. It felt like my heart was ripped from my chest when Calum stormed off.

Afterwards, I spend a few minutes sobbing, hyperventilating, and freaking out in my car when he leaves me alone. I know he wants to spend some time on his own, but I feel like I have to at least try to run after him, after I gave him some space to process what I’ve just told him. I collect myself a tiny bit before I run into the venue, finding everyone, except for Calum, in the green room.

They all notice me immediately, and I’m sure the tears running down my face, red cheeks, and ragged breathing made it clear that I’m upset. Luke starts to step toward me, his face full of concern, but Ashton beats him to it, stepping directly in front of Luke to block him.

“O, are you alright?”

I grab his arm and pull him into the corner, away from everyone else as much as possible without going to a different room.

When I try to say something, all that comes out is more crying. I can’t say it. I can’t say that Calum is absolutely livid that I hadn’t told him until now. I can’t say that it felt like he handed me his barely beating heart before he ran away.

Despite the many awful conversations with Ashton telling me I shouldn’t keep my diagnosis a secret, he’s nothing but sympathetic in the wake of my relationship getting absolutely fucked. He wraps his arms around me tightly and rests his head on top of mine, my body shaking as I cry even harder into his shirt.

“You told him, I take it?” He asks.

I sniffle, trying again to be able to say something, but the words get caught in my throat.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. It’s all gonna be okay, alright? You guys will be fine. Just give him a chance to come to terms with everything. It’s a lot to take in, and you know he’s avoidant.” He rubs his hands up and down my back, trying to calm me down, but it just makes it all worse. “He loves you. Nobody can deny it. Love is the most powerful thing in the universe. You guys will be fine.”

I ruined everything. Ashton’s positivity feels toxic rather than comforting.

It takes a few minutes, but I manage to stop sobbing enough to speak.

“I’m gonna go. Give him space. Take care of him, please? And tell everyone I love them and I’m sorry.”

“Wait, Orion, you shouldn’t—”

I don’t bother listening to everything else he has to say. I just run back out to the car. I can hear everyone calling after me, so I act quickly, turning the key in the ignition and reversing, then driving back out of the parking lot the way I came.

While I drive, I blast sad music that I can cry to. I’m probably not supposed to drive while crying as hard as I am, but I don’t really have a choice, already on an interstate. I don’t know what I’m thinking, but I stop at a convenience store after I drive for about 15 minutes. I turn off sharing my location with everyone and turn on Do Not Disturb. If Cal needs to be alone, I need to be alone too.

I need to grapple with the immense pain I’ve caused.

Just so people can know I’m alive after leaving the venue, I text Emelia.

To: emi✨ today is… the worst day ever.

As soon as it says it’s delivered, I put my phone in my pocket.

At 7-Eleven, I grab a jumbo bottle of Barefoot Cabernet Sauvignon and a bag of Voodoo potato chips, then get back in the car to head to the beach. The access I go to is in a touristy part of San Diego, but it’s nostalgic for me and reminds me of all the times I came here as a kid with friends. An ounce of comfort in this shitty fucking day.

After parking, I grab my 7-Eleven purchases and the blanket my moms make me keep in my trunk for ‘emergencies’ — I’ve never known what kind of emergency would call for a blanket in Southern California, but I guess, if today counts as one, I’ve determined the kind of emergency. I kick off my socks and shoes, carrying them in the plastic bag they gave me when I bought my wine and chips. Somehow, even in my emotional distress, I made sure the wine was a screw top, so I open it up while I walk down the beach, taking a long glug from the big bottle.

At my happy place on a not too busy day, I feel somewhat at peace with the world, even though I feel like my life is in shambles. I’ve spent so much time alone lately that it’s nice to be alone while surrounded by people. I don’t care if anyone is watching me while I just scarf down an entire bag of chips and nearly chug the entire bottle of wine.

I don’t want to feel anything right now, and being drunk is the best option I have on hand currently.

People watching and wave watching is a dizzying distraction while I sit on my sandy blanket. I don’t get in the water. Not even my feet. I just sit and drink, and, all things considered, it’s kind of nice, in a fucked up way.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been here when my head starts to feel heavy and my eyelids start to droop. Wine, especially combined with being sick with leukemia, has always made me sleepy. I check the time and find that it’s only 2:00, so there’s plenty of time for me to take a nap. I bury my keys in the sand under my blanket so nobody can steal them and shove my wallet into my pocket.

I pull the hood on my sweatshirt up and use the string to close it over my face, finding darkness in the middle of the day.

—

When I wake up, it’s not by choice. There’s someone shaking my shoulder and I can hear several voices close by, at least one of them speaking to me.

“Excuse me, you need to wake up, or we’re calling an ambulance for you,” a deep voice says.

I groan, swatting at my face to open the hood again. “No, I’m up.”

Blinking as I adjust to the sunlight, it can’t be too late, since the sun is still up. There’s a police officer leaning over me who looks slightly concerned, but mostly annoyed.

“Time to go home, kiddo, before we charge you with public intoxication. You can’t just get drunk and pass out on a beach on a Monday.”

Shit.

I sit up as quickly as I can, feeling dizzy from the wine that’s still running through me.

“Do you have someone you can call, or do we need to call you an Uber?”

“I’ll call someone,” I hear myself saying. I grab my phone from my pocket and hold it up closer to my face. “Hey Siri, call Irwie.”

“OK, calling Irwie now,” Siri says, and I press the phone to my ear.

It doesn’t even complete a full ring before Ashton answers. “Orion? Orion, are you okay? Everyone is—”

“If I drop you a pin, can you come get me?”

“What do—yeah, sure, yeah, I can come get you. Where are you?”

“I’m at the beach,” I slur sleepily, looking up at the police officer with one eye shut. The sun feels too bright.

“Are you drunk!?” He asks.

“Maybe…”

“Jesus Christ, Orion. Yeah, sure, drop a pin. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Wait! Ashton,” I nearly scream, trying to catch him before he hangs up.

“What?”

“Please… please don’t bring Cal.”

He sighs. “I’ll see you soon.” Then he hangs up.

“Is someone coming?” The police officer asks. I realize he’s one of two, the other standing a few feet behind him.

“Yeah, my friend said he’ll be here soon.”

The officers exchange glances. “We’ll be back in an hour. If you’re still here, you’ll be riding in the back of our car instead. Got it?”

My eyes widen. “Yes, sir. I’ll be gone, I promise.”

I gather my things up and put them into my 7-Eleven bag before standing up. While I walk toward my car, I drop a pin for Ashton. I have about a million notifications of phone calls and text messages. I don’t want to read anything from Calum or the band, or even my family. I just check the thread with Emelia.

From: emi✨ what happened ?????? you told him??? i assume? hello? pick up the phone orion bro literally everyone is freaking the fuck out your mom just called orion i get that you’re trying to be alone but we’re all so worried can you just tell someone if you’re alive and okay? orion, it’s been five hours i’m on my way down to SD right now. your moms are so scared and cal is a wreck

Her last text was just over an hour ago, so if she really is driving down, she’s still in the car. I call her instantly. Just like with Ashton, it doesn’t even finish a full ring before she answers.

“BITCH,” she starts, and I have to hold my phone away from my ear for a second because of how loud she is. “DON’T YOU EVER DO THIS SHIT AGAIN!”

I wince, unsure if she’s going to continue or if it’s safe to speak.

“Where the fuck are you!?” Yep, she continues.

I sigh, sitting down on the hood of my car. “I’m at the beach.”

“Why haven’t you been answering literally anyone!? Orion, do you understand how many people are upset right now? Because it’s literally so many people.”

I let the alcohol talk next, and I regret the words that come out of my mouth the moment I say them.

“Just a preview of what’s inevitable. I’m fucking dying, in case you forgot. Get used to me not answering my fucking phone.”

Emelia gasps, and the tears start forming in my eyes again. I shouldn’t have said it. I know I shouldn’t have. It’s a low blow, especially for someone who so clearly just cares about me and wants me to be okay. I feel worse than I already do.

“Em, I’m—I’m sorry,” I choke out, falling back into a state of sobbing. “I shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, I feel so bad. I’m sorry. I just—I’m at the beach. I’m drunk. I fell asleep. I just woke up. Ash is on his way to me. You can go home if you want.”

She takes a big breath before she speaks again. “I’m headed to your moms’ house. I’ll see you there. Everyone is there now.” Then she hangs up on me, and I can’t even pretend like I blame her for it.

“Fuck,” I say to no one but myself.

Roughly thirty minutes after my call with Emelia, a black van pulls up next to my car. Ashton is in the passenger seat, and Matt is in the driver’s. They say something to each other that I can’t hear before Ashton throws his door open and walks up to me.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He hugs me before I can even say anything.

I laugh. It’s a bitter, short laugh. “No.”

He hugs me tighter, and I break down again.

Ashton drives my car to my moms’ house while Matt drives the van back to the venue. The drive ends up taking over an hour because there’s an accident on the way, and I’m grateful that he just plays a podcast for the whole time so we don’t have to talk.

Calum always jokes that I can’t stand silence so I always make up dumb stories to tell people just to make sure that there isn’t any dead air. I never make them up, he just tends to find them so random. I do hate silence, and I’d rather talk to people than not, so making conversation has always been… I wouldn’t say a strong suit, because it’s not always worthwhile conversation, but I guess it’s just easy. It’s easy for me to find random stories to tell from the depths of my brain, especially if it’s someone I’m comfortable with.

Right now, I don’t want to talk, especially not knowing that the whole band and their partners and my family and Emelia will be at the house when we get there.

We pull in right as Emelia is getting out of her car.

“Hey guys,” she says without enthusiasm as Ashton and I get out of my Civic.

I start crying again, and it feels stupid, but thankfully, she doesn’t care. Emelia welcomes me with open arms and hugs me to her chest.

“I’m sorry and I love you,” I whisper to her.

“I love you, and it’s okay.”

I nod against her.

“C’mon, let’s go inside,” she says. She steps back from me, her hands sitting on my arms as she looks at me. “Everyone is waiting.”

I don’t want to, but I know I don’t have a choice. Em walks in front of me and Ash walks next to me, with his hand on my back between my shoulder blades. As we’re walking up to the door, Calum bursts through it and runs to us. Surely he was watching Ashton's location get closer and closer to the house.

Emelia steps out of the way and gives Cal a clear path to throw his arms around me and squeeze me against his chest. I cry into his shirt while he holds me, and I’m transported back in time to our goodbye at the airport two months ago. The deja vu makes me cry harder.

“I’m sorry I ran," he apologizes, although I feel like it's unwarranted. I did a fucked up thing. "I love you, and I trust you and your judgment and I know you did things in a way that made sense to you."

I shake my head as well as I can within his embrace which almost swallows me. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I fucked up. I know I did. I’m sorry. I feel like shit.”

“Let’s talk about it later.”

I nod. Dropping it for the moment feels best, considering practically everyone we know is here and neither one of us wants an audience for our conversation.

“I know things are shitty, but we’ve got a ton of pizza inside if you’re hungry? Everyone else is in the backyard.”

I peel back from his embrace enough to be able to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry I fucked everything up.”

Calum’s eyes are brimmed with tears and I feel awful for causing as much pain as I have. He doesn’t cry a lot, and when he does, it’s always something that makes my heart ache. I feel like the worst person alive to do this to him. He doesn’t deserve this.

“We can talk about it later, okay? Let’s just be together for a little bit. Everyone has been so worried.” He kisses my forehead and takes my hand, tugging me inside with him, Ashton and Emelia following behind.

Inside the house, there are pizza boxes scattered around the kitchen and a few cases of La Croix on the island. Eri is in the living room with Disney Channel playing and Duke is asleep on his lap. My moms walk inside from the backyard as we walk in and they both run up to us, looking an appropriate mix of angry and relieved.

“Never do that again!” Mama says, embracing me quickly. Mom hugs me, too, and then she grabs my other hand that Calum isn’t holding.

“Eat. We’re glad you’re safe. You have an army of concerned friends in the backyard. They will be relieved to see you.”

I just nod, unable to process the right words to say right now. I’ve sobered up over the past hour but the wine brain fog is still lingering, especially given my exhaustion. Emelia hands me a plate with a slice of cheese pizza on it, then she nods her head toward the backyard.

“Come on, let’s go see everyone. I don’t think Luke has stopped crying since you ran off,” Calum says, giving my hand a squeeze.

I don’t get a chance to argue before he leads me outside, everyone’s heads snapping up as the door creaks open. Calum was right. Luke is still crying. How could I do this to all of them? What’s wrong with me? These people don’t deserve this kind of pain. Nobody deserves this.

Luke barrels toward me first, nearly knocking me over with a hug. I feel his body quivering as he shakily breathes and cries into my hair. Calum lets go of my hand and takes my pizza from me so I can hug Luke back. It takes so much self control not to cry again. I just focus on trying to calm Luke down, rubbing small circles into his back.

“I’m so, so sorry, O,” Luke whispers through his quiet sobs.

He’s sorry? Why is he sorry? I’m the one who messed up. “It’s okay, Lu. You didn’t do anything.”

He cried and I feel him shake his head. “I should’ve been there for you.”

“Luke,” I breathe out. “I didn’t want anyone to be there for me. That’s not on you.”

“Luke, give her some space. You’re not the only one who wants to hug her, man!” I hear Michael’s voice. He’s trying to lighten the mood a bit and I appreciate it. He peels Luke away from me and then he embraces me himself. “Glad you’re safe, O.”

“Sorry to scare everyone.”

“We love you so much,” Crystal says, hugging me straight after Michael lets go.

Sierra is next, and then KayKay. After everyone else has had a turn, Luke resumes his hugging and clings to me for another few minutes while everyone else starts talking and eating again. He keeps apologizing to me and it hurts. He sounds so sad. When he finally pulls away, I look up at his red face that’s covered in tears.

I pull my sweatshirt sleeve over my hand and reach up to wipe them away. “Don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”

Luke nods, and then Sierra comes up to him and takes him off to calm him down, mouthing a ‘sorry’ to me.

Finally in a place where I can breathe again, I look up and catch Calum staring at me. His eyes have welled up tears and are a muted version of their normal rich brown. I try to smile at him, but I end up having tears start to form in my own eyes for the millionth time today. When one falls from my eyes, he’s quick to reach over and wipe it away.

“I love you,” he says, his voice almost too quiet to hear, full of love and pain and sadness and, possibly most difficult to admit, fear.

“I love you.”

I look down at the pizza he’s holding for me, my stomach starting to make noises, and then I notice the tape wrapped around his knuckles. Ashton is somewhat known for always having his hands taped up with blisters from playing the drums, but not Calum, and the location of the tape wouldn’t be from playing any instrument. It also wasn’t there this morning.

“What happened to your hand?” I ask, taking the pizza from his grasp with one hand and using the other to reach for his bandaged one, pulling it closer to try to inspect.

He chuckles, and I'm grateful to hear a sound close to laughter come from him. “I got in a fight with a wall.”

I look up at him, eyebrows raised, trying to fight a smile. Calum is practically magic. Not even seconds ago I was about to cry, and here he is, flipping my mood like it’s as simple as turning on a light switch. “Elaborate?”

Cal sighs, breaking our eye contact. “I wanted to punch somebody, but I know how you feel about violence, so I punched a wall. Three times.”

My raised eyebrows move to being knit together. Cal isn’t known for being an angry person, much less a violent one. Gentle is the first word I'd use to describe his soul, and kind is the second. Angry isn't even on my list. “Who did you want to punch?”

“Ashton.” He doesn’t even hesitate before he says it. I watch his jaw clench as he looks behind me, presumably to wherever Ashton is standing. He’s angry. He’s furious.

I don’t understand why he would be mad at Ashton but able to look past what I’ve done enough to be consoling me right now. Ashton didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who messed everything up and Ashton got stuck in the crosshairs. He was just trying to be a good friend to me and he made his opinions very known—he didn’t agree with what I was doing but respected that it was my choice to make, not his. Does Calum not see that?

“Cal, don’t be upset with—“

His eyes snap back down to me, anger still firing in his irises. “Not now. I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

His fury silences me and I decide it’s probably best to listen to him. I don’t want to fight with him in front of all these people, but I know I need to talk to him about this soon. Ashton and Calum call each other soulmates. I don’t want to be the reason there’s a rift between them. I want to talk about it now and clear the air, but if Calum says he doesn’t want to talk about something, it’s by far the better choice to leave it alone.

“Okay,” I say, my voice small.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Calum promises. “Right now I just want to be with you, okay?”

I nod, even though everything I have wanted to say all day is gnawing at my stomach, clawing at my throat, and filling the entirety of my mouth. I need to talk about all of this; after sitting on it for over two months, I need to get everything off my chest. But, knowing Calum, I know that if he doesn’t want to talk about something, it’s useless to try to talk about it, so even though I’m dying to talk about the issue at hand, I have to swallow the words and try not to choke on them.

“Can we go sit down? I’m so tired.”

Calum nods, wrapping an arm around me and guiding me over to the outdoor living room situation my moms have set up, sitting down on the couch that’s covered in Duke’s hair from him being out here all day. KayKay and Emelia are sitting on chairs across from us, deep in their own conversation. I think Em is telling her about a project she did in her photography class and KayKay is looking through the final images on her phone. I'm glad they can talk about something normal in the midst of all this.

I slowly take bites of my cheese pizza, but each mouthful sticks on its way down my throat and make it far less appetizing.

“Need anything?” Calum asks, taking note of my silence and slow eating.

“No, just don’t have much of an appetite these days.”

It’s nice to be back with everyone, and I don’t want to act like it isn’t, but this all feels wrong. Ashton and Calum aren’t speaking. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells in my own head, trying not to trigger any conversations that I can’t have yet and narrowly avoiding crying yet again. Calum is being attentive, smoothing my hair for me while I talk and always having his hand on me somewhere, whether resting on my knee, wrapped around my waist, or intertwined with mine. All I can picture is the look on his face when I told him I have leukemia and the way it felt to practically watch his heart stop beating.

One day, he’s actually going to have to watch as my heart stops beating, and the thought alone makes me hate myself even more than I already do.