somebody else. ❀ lrh

ashton.

AVERY.

I think something's wrong with Calum.

He's been acting strange the past few days. He barely acknowledges me in the mornings, instead of his usual sloppy forehead kisses he gives me on his way out, he's been silently grabbing his lunch and barely muttering a goodbye.

It's the same when he returns home, except he shuts himself in his room wordlessly and doesn't respond to my persistent knocks or text messages.

Any question of "you okay?" is just met with eye rolls or a scoff of somesort, sometimes I'll get a "fine" in reply but that's a rarity.

I'm worried about him.

Calum had today off, as Christmas was approaching this coming Sunday, and with my lack of a nine-to-five I decided to camp outside of his bedroom door like the good best friend I am.

Around ten, I heard shuffling.

Around noon, I heard sniffling.

Around two, I heard Lana Del Rey.

Around five, I'd had enough.

Calum isn't a private person by any means. He's described various intimate details of his sexual encounters over a cup of coffee to me in a public restaurant before, he doesn't have anything to hide.

So, bursting into his room wasn't really a concern to me, especially after he hadn't been able to form a full sentence in my presence in around a week.

He sat, curled up in a plush blanket with his head resting on the headboard. Tears stained his tanned cheeks as sad, heartbreak songs filled his room. My chest tightened at the sight.

"Cal?"

The boy's eyes snap open, widening at the sight of me, quickly scrambling to pause the depressing song blasting from his phone's speaker. "A-Avery, you-"

"Calum," my tone softens, lips curling downwards. I approached his bed slowly, sitting myself on the edge furthest from him. "What's going on?"

Calum wipes away the fallen tears with the back of his hand, sniffling loudly. "Nothing, m'fine. I told you m'fine."

Calum's not often emotional, it's not typical I see him like this. The last time I saw him shed a tear was when I beat him at FIFA nearly two years ago. He hasn't played since.

I click my tongue. "You're not fine, Cal. You've been off for days, you're sitting in here listening to Lana Del Rey. You're far from fine."

His eyes cast downwards to his lap, where his phone sat, before meeting mine again and almost instantly brimming with a fresh set of tears. Without speaking, he tugs the blanket from his body and hurls himself towards me.

I barely managed to catch him, since he's much larger than myself, his head falling into my lap and arms wrapped uncomfortably around my waist.

"Cal-"

"I fucked everything up," Calum's words muffle against my sweatpants, "I didn't know what to do, I didn't mean to hurt his feelings."