cake oneshots || book two

Why Do You Write Like You're Running Out Of Time?

Credit: thatfangirlingfreak

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Calum wouldn't classify himself as a great writer.

He struggled to find the right words, and could never remember grammar rules for the life of him. Sometimes he'd pray that someone else would steal his idea and write it for him.

Like that boy in his English class. He was certainly a better writer than Calum.

Well, okay...Calum never got to like, actually read his stuff. But he sat in front of him and sometimes–if he angled his head the right way–he could see just past the mountain of blonde hair and read his writing.

Every sentence that boy crafted was a masterpiece in Calum's eyes. (At least, the ones he managed to read.)

Which is probably weird to say, considering he never had the guts to speak to him yet. But the blonde boy was pretty, and so far admiring him from afar was working out. He wouldn't want to ruin their non-existent relationship with words.

Calum shakes his head, clearing away all thoughts of that one lanky kid that will never even spare him a second glance. What stupid thoughts to be having when he's supposed to be working on an essay. It was the whole reason why he came to the library, for god's sake.

The Maori male snakes a hand down into his bag to find his keyboard. It's one of the Bluetooth ones that can get pretty pricey, bu-

"Ah, shoot!" Someone shouts, breaking the silence in the school library. Immediately, the person is shushed by everyone nearby.

Calum looks down to see a boy on the floor, and helps him up. "Sorry," He whispers to the people that chastised him, before whispering a 'thanks' to Calum.

"Are you alright? Quite a nasty fall there," Calum chuckles quietly.

"Yeah," The boy is straightening himself out, running a hand through his blonde hair. "It's my fault. I'm clumsy and tall, which just adds up to disaster." He finally looks at Calum and smiles. "I'm Luke, hi."

He can't believe his luck. It was the English kid. "Uh, I-I'm Calum. I sit behind you in Mr. Alexander's class, I think."

"Oh right! I knew I recognized you from somewhere. I just never knew your name...my apologies," Luke blushes. It's completely adorable and Calum is helpless.

"No worries, I didn't know yours either. Are you here to work on the essay too?"

"I actually finished mine already...such an overachiever, right?" Luke laughs. "I just like to read and be surrounded by books. It's comforting."

"Understandable," Calum nods. "So, you must like writing then?"

"Yes, I really love it. I think I'd like to major in something of that realm. My parents would prefer it if I was a doctor or something, but being an author is my real passion."

"I think you could make it big as an author, honestly," Calum says sincerely.

"Really?" Luke asks. "How do you know?"

Fück. "I...I don't. No one really does because life is unpredictable and shit, but that doesn't matter. You seem pretty set on following your dream, and that's half the battle. So...yeah."

Luke is smiling at him, eyebrows furrowed. "You're a deep thinker, Calum."

"Eh, not really. That was kind of me bullshitting on the spot to be honest."

"Well, you're good at spouting bullshit then."

"You mean bull...shoot?" Calum jokes.

"What?" Luke gives him a confused look.