Missed Calls (Grayson Dolan x James Charles)

Plans

"How often do you open your contacts?" James asks, clicking his pen three times before turning around in his chair to look at Emma. It'd been a week since he'd put his number in Grayson's phone and honestly, he was getting frustrated.

"Like never. That's like taking a look in your closet even though the only clothes you wear are in your dresser," Emma responds, a confused expression on her face. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I gave my number to someone, but like, they don't know about it. Does that make sense?" he said, standing from his chair to sit next to her on his bed. There were a variety of books strewn about, James having completed the work during class. Emma knew she could ask him for help, regardless of how terrible it made her feel.

"So, you were a total creep and had his phone why?" Emma inquiries, placing a hot pink sticky note in her Calculus book, sitting up to face him.

"Well, when you put it that way," James said, rolling his eyes and pushing her shoulder lightly. "In my defense he handed me his phone first."

"So? I have you hold my food all the time and never see you eat it."

"The keyword there is don't. That's why you always complain about running out of fries so fast," James said, grinning at the look of utter betrayal he receives.

"You- you thief," she shouts, tackling James back onto the bed, shoving the dark grey comforter over his face. "Is that you telling me I'm fat? You want me to bulk up to be your man and then call me fat?"

"You're crushing me," James said, pretending to choke on air before violently snatching the blanket from his face and grinning up at her.

"James," she shouts, giggling as he pushes her off of him and onto the bed next to him. Their laughter fills the room, a familiar feeling that wrapped James in the warmest hug he could imagine.

"If we're single by thirty, we're getting married," James states, huffing as he folds his arms and gives her a goofy grin.

"What?" Emma said, a confused and disgusted look on her face.

"You're right, thirty is too young. Thirty-five is better," James laughs, watching as Emma rolls her eyes and hits his shoulder with a sigh.

"You weren't kidding when you said boys are stupid," she said, shooting him a glare before letting a soft smile consume her face.

"You know I love you, sister," James said, holding his hands in the air and snapping until Emma grabbed them. It was an old custom they had since they were children, often finding comfort in one another. James didn't know where he'd be without her, but he can imagine it being a terribly dark place.

"I love you too, James. Even if I'm second choice," Emma jokes, head moving until it rested on his shoulder. There's a moment of silence, the two enjoying each others company. James could never thank her enough for all she'd done for him. Whether it be in the past, present, or future- he knew Emma wasn't going anywhere. A thought that he was truly and utterly grateful for.

"Do you remember when I first started doing makeup?" James said, resting his head on top of Emma's, biting at his untouched lips. He hadn't been in the mood for full glam, settling for a natural look before heading to his classes. He'd even decided to wear his glasses instead of his contacts, not wanting to bother with them. They were the reason Emma carried contact-specific eye drops in her backpack. Lord knows James always seemed to be forgetting his own.

"Yeah, why?" Emma asks, gripping his hand tighter for a moment. James hums in thought, remembering how she'd told his parents that she was the one who had put the smoky shadow on him. He'd been so petrified in that moment, but it was always Emma that came through.