In which even the smallest moments together matter.
Word Count: 652
“Are you still playing Pokemon Go?” Calum asks, tucking the cigarette back between his lips. He’s sprawled out on the grass next to you, in the same position he plopped down in thirty minutes ago. Ashton had been occupying his attention until he’d run off about ten minutes ago. You hadn’t minded, content to sit with them while they had a free second.
You risk a glance from the screen of your phone, amused at your boyfriend’s question and mocking tone. “And if I am?”
Instead of answering, Calum just grins, head turning away from you to exhale the smoke from between his lips. The screen of your phone lights up as it vibrates in your grasp, your attention immediately snapping back to the screen.
With your attention diverted, Calum takes a second to quickly snuff out the lit end of his cigarette and toss the stub off to the side. When he turns back, you’re still focused on your phone, brow furrowed and tongue peeking out from the part of your lips as you tap at the screen. You’re completely oblivious to his attention and he smiles softly, his fingers inching closer until they curl into the fabric of your shirt and yank you down onto the grass with him.
“Hey!” You laugh, finally turning your head to look back at him. Your nose is scrunched in mock annoyance as he drags you under his arm, tucking you against his side and letting your head rest on his shoulder. “You made me miss the Gloom!”
You hook an ankle around his in retaliation, dragging his leg down from its bent position until the pair of you are a mess of tangled limbs in the grass. The air around you is heavy from the heat, sweat trickling down the back of your neck. It’s maybe ten degrees cooler in the shade you’ve managed to find but Calum’s insane amount of body heat doesn’t really help the situation. You’re left wondering how the hell he’s managing to survive in his black jeans and boots.
And as you watch his eyelashes flutter against the apples of his cheeks, you’re struck with how perfectly un-normal your normal is with him. An amphitheatre looms in the background and this is the first time you’ve been alone with him in the three days you’ve been here, but with the cheesy background music from the game still playing and your limbs wrapped around his, you’re completely sure you wouldn’t trade these moments for anything.
“Don’t blame me ‘cause you’re a shit pokemon player.” Calum mumbles, lips curling into a smirk.
“Rude!” You squawk in protest, dropping your phone so you can swat at him. Calum intercepts the attack, grabbing your hand and threading his fingers through yours, bringing them to rest on his chest. He chuckles when you pout, turning his head a bit more so that the tip of his nose nudges against the side of yours.
“Oy, Hood!!” Michael’s voice filters over, laughter barely contained as he jogs by. “Stop being gross with Y/N and help us with this snapchat!”
“Hey Clifford,” Calum calls back with a laugh, propping himself up on one elbow and pulling you up with him so he can use his other hand to flip Michael off. “Fuck off!”
You snort, eyebrows raised when Calum turns back to look at you with a dopey smile. He quickly flushes at the ‘wtf was that’ look that is no doubt plastered across your face. He doesn’t give you an answer, instead choosing to fall back onto the grass. You watch with a smirk as he, again, tugs at the bottom of your shirt and waits for you to settle back against his side.
He clears his throat, turning and hiding his face in your mess of hair. There’s the pucker of his lips against your hairline, and a mumbled “Just want to spend time with you.”
“Somewhere over the darkened curve of the world the sun and moon
were pulling, and the film of water on the earth planet was held, bulging
slightly on one side while the solid core turned. The great wave of the tide
moved farther along the island and the water lifted. Softly, surrounded
by a fringe of inquisitive bright creatures, itself a silver shape beneath the
steadfast constellations, Simon’s dead body moved out toward the open