human ↦ calum hood {au}

nine: sick

CHAPTER NINE:

| lynette’s pov |

Although the thought was quite morbid, it was true. I didn’t say anything more, only crossing my arms and continuing our small walk.

I didn’t know where we were going, but Calum told me it was nearby. He said I’d love it there, and I think I will.

This wasn’t really part of my schedule. That was fine. A little change wouldn’t do that much.

A small bell rang, and I found him opening a vintage-looking door for me. And from outside, the place looked absolutely beautiful.

“Come on, Lynette.” He took my hand and brought me inside.

A waiter greeted us as we entered, and his face lit up when he saw me. I didn’t know him, but maybe it was because it was my first time here.

Calum let go of my hand and pulled out a chair for me to sit on; with him being such a gentleman, it was hard to think twice about doing this again.

“I’ll be right back.” He smiled at me and walked away, in such a hurry, after I sat down.

I took this opportunity to look around. 

The place was no doubt small, only having around five tables for customers, yet having enough space between them to have privacy. A small chandelier dangled from the top, lighting up the place a bit. The place was a bit dim, and I guessed if the chandelier was removed, you wouldn’t see as much. It was great, either way.

But what really made the place perfect was the soft classical music playing in the background. It was calming, soothing that part of my mind that was hesitating about all this.

“I’m back.” Calum relaxed on his seat, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

“Are you okay?” But in reality, I wanted to ask what he was doing. Not yet, not now.

 “Of course I am! I’m just… nervous.”

I kept myself from asking another question and just nodded. Someday, I’ll ask.

“So, why do you drink those pills?” He puts his chin on top of his hand. 

Personal– that’s a personal question, but it’s personal enough for him to know the answer. “You should know that.”

He gives a small laugh. “Let me rephrase that then– why do you think you drink them?”

Whether or not I expected him to do that, I found it hard to answer. It wasn’t because I didn’t know, it was because I felt devalued using such a term.

“Sick. I’m sick, and I need help."