Wonder [Calum Hood One Shot]

Wonder

He would come over when most of the city was asleep, but he'd still be in your bed long after your side of the world was awake. You cherished those moments; of him laying on what was now his designated side of the bed—the right side—and you lay facing him, sleepily watching him slumber. He looked most at peace like this, in your opinion; no crease between his thick brows and full lips parted ever so slightly as the softest snores escaped him, dark curls brushing across his forehead in a messy bedhead. There was no ounce of stress or signs of overwhelm tightening his features, utterly relaxed and resting.

The morning light seeped through your blinds behind you, having forgotten to draw your curtains the night before in a mess of tangled limbs and lips, and you watched as beams of bright yellow bathed Calum in streaks, illuminating his brown skin in a golden glow. He was so beautiful, without even doing anything—with being unconscious—and you were sure you could feel your heart ache with how much love you had for him. The kind where you had to bite your lip until it bled to stop yourself from smiling at him just because, the kind where your heart stuttered every time he laughed, the kind where you felt like you were flying amongst the clouds whenever you saw him smile.

An overwhelming, dangerous kind of love that, for the life of you, you couldn't remember falling into.

You hoped he felt the same. Wondered if he knew the most guarded secret of your heart. Prayed that he cared. Waited breathlessly for him to say something.

Gently kicking off the covers, you brushed your lips on his forehead before grabbing his shirt on the floor, a black tee that read WATERMELON in red across that reached your thighs. Shimmying up a clean pair of underwear, you quickly used and freshened up in the bathroom before making your way to the kitchen, bare feet lightly padding on the floor as you decided to fix yourselves some breakfast. He was always hungry in the morning, especially after a night like last's.

The smile dancing across your lips was fond and blissed as you thought of last night while preparing scrambled eggs. Tour was over and the band had gone out last night to celebrate the end of it before the boys lost themselves in the studio; you were invited, of course, but work kept you from attending and while you felt disappointed for missing out on the festivities, your excitement had increased tenfold at the I'm on my way, darling text you'd received from Calum around two in the morning. He knew you'd be up. You always were—for him, anyways.

When the cheese and tomato scrambled eggs, toast, and drinks—coffee for him, tea for you—were ready and on the table, it was almost as if on cue that Calum arrived behind you.

You were used to his sneak attacks, not at all startled when you felt his arms wind around your waist and pulled your back into his chest, his nose trailing the skin of the curve of your neck and shoulder, his oversized shirt falling off your frame. "Smells amazin'," his thick voice rasped, hearing him inhale the fruity scent of your body wash that still clung to your skin. "And 'm not just talkin' about the food."

You licked the edge of your teeth before smiling at his words, welcoming his bare chest against your clothed back as you turned your head to look at him, bumping your nose with his as he lifted his head. "Easy, mister. What's on the table is what's on the menu."

Calum huffed as you reluctantly broke away from his grasp, shooting him an innocent grin as you settled on the stool in front of the raised counter that separated the kitchen and living room. "You're no fun," he grumbled with a sleepy grin, the smile widening when you let out a laugh.

Your morning was quiet, just like it always was. The two of you would wake up in either one of your apartments and have breakfast together in the quiet of the morning, only needing each other's presence. But you liked talking to him, liked listening to his voice no matter what the topic was, and sometimes those quiet mornings weren't enough. Sometimes you wanted to just sit and listen to him, to the voice you were in love with.