Twenty Eight Lattes 》Calum Hood AU

metaphorical bandaid

Calum Hood was annoying the hell out of me.

Literally.

He always somehow got me to smile, even though I didn't want to. He'd come into the shop with his fluffy hair and his dumb flannel shirts and flirt.

"Good morning Miss Feldman, you're looking especially beautiful today." Calum said as he came into the shop earlier than usual one morning.

"What can I get you Mister Hood?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hmm...your favourite." He replied grinning. I tilted my head, confused. "My favourite? My favourite what?" "Latte. A large latte with your favourite flavour."

My favourite flavour. I frowned. Oh.

"Something wrong Lyra?" Calum asked and leaned forward with a concerned look on his cute face.

"Huh? No, it's just that...nothing." I mumbled and turned around to start his latte.

"Are you sure it's nothing?"

I nodded and scrunched my eyes closed, thankful that he couldn't see me. "It's stupid." I heard myself saying and I could practically hear Calum's curiosity. "I'm sure it's not."

So I took a deep breath and turned around. We were the only bodies in the shop and I figured I could tell him.

"I'm trying not to have favourites. I don't want to miss my favourite things if I leave." I said looking him in the eye.

"Leave? Are you moving away or something?" He asked, leaning his elbows on the counter. I shook my head. He didn't get it. Of course he wouldn't though cause we're basically strangers. Might as well be blunt. Rip the metaphorical bandaid off. Another deep breath.

"I don't want to have favourites so that when I'm ready to kill myself, I won't miss the only things that made me happy in this world."

Silence.

And then the door chimed, signaling a customer.

I quickly, finished Calum's usual vanilla latte and handed it to him with a fake smile. Then I turned to the new customer.

"Welcome to Twenty Eight Lattes, what can I get for you?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Calum sip his latte, only to make a disappointed face. He glanced at me before turning around and walking out with his drink.

I didn't feel anything as the customer asked for a chocolate latte with an espresso shot.

The next day, Calum didn't come in. Or the day after that.

I wasn't worried in the slightest.

When I went to my therapy session, I told Carlos.

He asked who Calum was and I told him he was a flirtatious regular at the shop. To which Carlos jotted down in his notebook. Then we sat in silence for twenty minutes before he spoke again.

He asked why I didn't just give Calum the candy cane latte. I shrugged, pretending I didn't know. But I did know. I knew very well. And I knew Carlos knew I knew.

He scribbled in his notebook again and told me he would see me at our next appointment.

I went home, thinking about my reasonless urge to end my life. I ate dinner with my parents in silence, thinking about what Carlos wanted from me.

And I laid in bed, thinking about Calum Hood. I didn't like him. He was flirty and pushy and annoying.

But I fell asleep; dreaming of his stupid face.