Broken (AU Calum Hood Fanfiction)

LXXV

Calum's POV:

Australia's warm this time of year. I feel it immediately. The second my feet hit the tarmac the sun's hitting me and I'm squinting my eyes trying to block out the brightness of this place when all I feel is darkness.

The weather's a contrast from California, the so-called golden state. It's not golden. It's not sunny. Not this time of year at least. But somehow the weather over there fit. Somehow the weather matched and mirrored everything that's going on. I don't know if that helped or made everything worse but at least it didn't feel wrong like the sun here does.

It feels familiar here, though. Not necessarily a comfortable familiar, but familiar nonetheless.

I don't want to be here. But my mum does. And so here I am. And there's my sister, hair long and eyes wide as they land on me.

"Hey, Cal." she mumbles as I make my way to her, fatigue flooding my bones. She looks tired, too. Her hair's an unbrushed mess, dark eyes matched with dark circles directly under them, brows drawn together slightly, mouth hopeful but sad.

"Hey." I say, giving her a look of understanding as I pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her and holding on tight, squeezing, trying to hold her together like I wish someone would do for me right now. Her arms go between our bodies, pressing into my chest and it seems like she's felt alone, like she's been craving the comfort that someone else can provide for her but hasn't. Like she's been deprived of sympathy and now she doesn't know what to do with it.

She's usually all smiles and laughs, I always joke that giddiness flows through her veins. But not today. Today she shifts to bury her face in my neck and hide from the world as her arms finally move to hug me back.

She squeezes the material of my shirt in her palms, causing the collar to raise in the front as she pulls on it. "You're choking me." I try to joke before she pulls away. She stands upright again, wiping under her eyes, ridding herself of the silent tears that were mostly absorbed by my shirt.

"Sorry." she scoffs, her tone light but her face heavy.

"How's mum?" I ask as we start to walk.

"Shitty." she mutters.

Mali, the one with the language of a sailor but the soft features of our mother. Maybe my colorful vocabulary stems from her. Maybe it's the other way around.

"I wish you would've come to visit before all of this shit started happening. Like a casual visit." she bumps into my side as we move towards the baggage claim.

"Sorry." my turn to apologize.

"It's okay. I get it." I see her nod in my peripheral, "I hear you found a girl." she singsongs the last part.

Despite the reason for my being here and despite the tears that were flowing not even five minutes ago, I feel myself blush at the mention of Jackie.

"Yep." I say shortly, fidgeting with the strap of my backpack.

"Mum and dad like her." she states.

"Yeah?" I press, keeping my eyes on the luggage belt.

"Mm-hmm. Especially mum. She's been joking that she hopes the grandkids have Jackie's looks instead of yours." she rambles matter-of-factly and I choke on oxygen.

"She did not say that." I mumble out between laughs.

It feels like everybody's staring at me and truth be told I might be losing my mind a bit because I'm laughing really hard at something that I probably shouldn't find as funny as I do. But I can't help it. If I don't find humor in the small things I'll break down in the middle of this crowded airport at the thought that my mother will never meet any of her grandchildren. So I focus on her sharp tongue and willingness to poke fun at me. And I allow myself to laugh, inappropriate as it may be.