Calum Hood Imagines

BGM - Antique

JUST DROP TYR ALBUM ALREADY

Calum:
The stench was thick, clinging to you and everything else in the old house. It smelled of rosewater and yellowed pages of old books. The carpet beneath your feet released a large plume of dust with every step, and you could see in the beams of sunlight the minuscule particles swirl through the air in their extended descent. The furniture was antique, to put it kindly, perhaps it was more accurate to call it worn. The coffee table was covered in ringed stains leftover from conversations in the parlor. The couches were covered in thick white sheets, and you curiously lifted the corner of one to be met with sun-bleached and torn fabric of the same pattern your own grandmother had had in her house. It was dated, it was used and old. The house creaked and was full of drafts, showing it's age. You were sure there were mice living somewhere in the walls and one room smelled distinctly of ammonia.

What did Calum see in this place?

Why had he bought it and called you so excitedly? And why was he late in meeting you here? There was nothing lovely about the house, perhaps you could convince him to sell it and cut your losses-

"Babe?" The front door opened with a horrendous screech, "note to self: oil hinges."

"In here," you turned and waited until Calum passed through the long hallway to where you were standing. You were sure that your crossed arms and raised eyebrow told Calum exactly what you thought, but he didn't even acknowledge your skepticism.

"It's great isn't it! Oh Y/N! I'm so happy!" Even your feelings of contempt for the house weren't enough to allow a frown to stay on your face as Calum engulfed you in a tight hug and pulled back just far enough to kiss the tip of your nose.

It wasn't enough, however, for you to tell him your opinion, "I'm not so sure Cal, look around, it's going to need a lot of work."

"Nothing good comes into being without a lil bit of work!" He remained undeterred. You watched as he pulled back from you and marched over to the large French doors, throwing them open to allow the warm sunshine and summer breeze to drift in. "We just need to air it out a little, slap a coat of paint on the walls, bring in our furniture," he turned to face the overgrown backyard, "mow the lawn..."

"That lawn is going to need to be more than just mowed," you scoffed as you looked out the doors as well. The grass was mostly overgrown with weeds and littered with piles of poo from strays or rude owners. The bushes were sprouting everywhere, in need of a good trim, and garden flats growing nothing but dandelions.

"Just think about it like this," Calum came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, "over there in the gardens there'll be tomatoes and beans and pumpkins and herbs. The yard is massive and private, we have acres to ourselves and we can do whatever we want. We can paint down regulation soccer field lines and put goals on opposite ends. You can sit under the shade on the patio and watch as I run around with Duke. Maybe under that big tree over there we can take naps and read. Someday soon we'll have little feet that just love to be outside and have a sprinkler set out on days like this." He sighed in content. "Maybe it's not great yet, but soon it will be. I know it."

You leaned back against him, looking out at the tangle of weeds and knee high grass, trying to see what he had envisioned. Little of it seemed to be in reach but you trusted Calum and Calum's resolve.

So you twisted around in his grip and looked up at his face, "tell me more," you demanded.

"What?" He seemed confused at first, rubbing your hips in little circles and staring down with a distinct frown.

"Sell it to me, the whole place, just like you did with the backyard," you explained. If he could make it all sound that good you couldn't deny him.

A wide grin grew on Calum's lips as he turned towards the living room again. "Well..."

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