thin walls / calum hood

2.3

Calum

He wasn't a one-night stand kind of guy. Michael had been right about that. If only Calum had known that before diving headfirst into the thrills of what was going to be his first time. It hadn't even been close to reaching any of his expectations - not that he had any. Okay, maybe he did. But those weren't exactly realistic, he had realised. It was strange, sweaty and sticky and oh my god - he'd finally done it. But Calum should probably have known something was up when he wiped the tears from his eyes as he rolled over on that first night.

Losing your virginity shouldn't make you cry.

When Calum woke up the morning after his party, he felt horrible once again. Alyssa had already left - her clothes were gone from the floor and her tiny, soft body nowhere to be seen. He didn't expect her to stay – she hadn't the first time either. Maybe she didn't like the way their intertwined bodies would generate twice as much heat as one. Perhaps she liked it better when the bed was neatly made and the air filling the room, cool and soothing.

There was a wet spot on his pillow, just at Calum's temple. He flipped it over, rubbing at his eye. He blamed his runny eyes on the cold he'd seem to have gotten. Maybe the drunken decision to go sit on the cold ground had been a bad idea. Warmth provided by the alcohol, he hadn't even noticed how cold it was out at night, even during the summer.

It was the worst hangover Calum had ever had. It pounded like a smack in the face, nosebleed and black eye.

The dried dark stain from her makeup on his shirt was the only reminder that last night had actually happened. He'd told her that he wasn't suicidal. It was true, he wasn't. But he felt sad. And there were some things that were better at curing sadness.

In his mother's fancy cabinet where the liquors were kept, Calum knew there was a bottle half full. On shaky legs he stumbled out of bed, eager to lay his hands on this particular bottle. Reaching into it, he felt over the glass bottles until he found the one he was looking for. Great. He needed it to make the pain go away.

Just for a little bit.

Still on the floor, he worked his fingers to undo the top and took his first swig. The liquid was sickly sweet at his tongue, the taste heavier when Calum swallowed. It burned nicely down his dry throat, and he let a groan slip out as he broke for air. Calum snickered at nothing; a wide, incongruous grin formed on his lips as he once again reached the tip of the bottle to his chapped lips.

Luke

"Calum." He shook his friend, more violently this time, snatching the bottle out of his hand. What the fuck was he doing, drinking a whole bottle on his own? Straight, as well. "Calum, for fuck's sake! Please!"

In front of him, Calum half-sat, his face pressed against the wall. He had sick on his t-shirt. The whole flat smelled of it. He had a cut on the side of his face; drops of blood trickling down his neck and throat.

Luke never thought he would be the one in this situation. If anyone, he would have been in Calum's shoes. Calum was the happy go lucky kid, not the one trying to drink himself to unconsciousness. Luke sighed. Calum shouldn't be the one with red puffy eyes, and breaths barely leaving his wide opened mouth. It was so wrong.

He was freaking out. He'd never learned first aid. Maybe it was Karma biting him in the arse for not paying attention during health class. These kinds of things just weren't supposed to happen. Not now. Not when he was alone to deal with it. Fuck.

Helplessly, he prayed it was a prank. That Ashton would jump out from behind the sofa and Calum would sit back up, laughing at him actually believing the scene playing out in front of him was real. They never did. Reality was too cruel to let it be so.

"Calum please talk to me!"

In a moment of sheer panic, Luke went to get help. Lucky Hayley lived right downstairs. His long legs swallowed the steps three at a time, banging her door too loud and too many times before she opened.

"Help, please. It's Calum he's– I think–"

Barely being able to speak, he finally got her to understand that it was an emergency and that she'd have to hurry the fuck up before Calum fucking died choking on his own vomit or like stopped breathing and fucking died and fuck fuck fuck -

She was calm and collected; her mind was rational while Luke's was pure chaos and anarchy. Luke's shaky fingers pressed the digits, calling the numbers she said were most important; the ambulance and Calum's mum.

Hayley hovered over the unconscious boy, pushing his body over into a lying position on the floor. Thank fuck she knew first aid. Luke didn't know what he would have done without her. He was a shaking wreck the whole time, praying to whoever would hear, that they would please let his best friend be okay.

In the silence leading up to the sound of sirens, Luke heard her sniffle. He cried as well, and she gave him a crunched up napkin to wipe his eyes with.

"Thanks," he said, having to try his best to keep his voice from breaking. It was lame, he knew that - she deserved more than a thank you. He'd never really been good with the emotional stuff, though, and the fear and shock he'd been going through in the matter of such a short time had drained him completely. Emotionally and physically.

She didn't respond. Her body was kept still,eyes completely fixed on the boy lying in recovery position on the floor. They stayed like that the whole time. When the door opened. When they were knelt in front of him. When they asked her and Luke questions about what had happened. Keeping her eyes low, glued to his lifeless face, she was watching as paramedics checked his pulse. Not once did she avert her gaze. Not when he was lifted onto the stretcher, and not when they carried him out of the flat. Luke wasn't even sure she had blinked. Not even once.

-

im sorry guys

please dont hate me we can all cry together

~lauren