if walls could talk // calum hood

chapter twelve 💕

last night was wild, i made new friends, went somewhere i haven't been before and got close with calum again.
i woke up in such a good mood and feeling so happy. i get out of the shower and walk into the kitchen.

"morning" cal says.

he seems to be in a pretty decent mood too. he gives me a hug and a coffee cup.

"we need to talk" he suddenly says and pulls out a chair.

i sit down nervously worried over the fact that his mood has changed from good to bad in a few seconds.

"what's wrong" i ask.

he looks at me really hard and i'm confusion.

"it's nice that you can cover things with makeup. i however, can't" he says in a different tone.

i ask him what he's talking about and he slowly pulls his jumper down from around his neck. there were at least 7 huge hickeys over his neck.

"and that's not all of it" he announces standing up.

he pulls up his shirt and shows me all the nail marks and scratches on his back and chest area.

"I HAVE A PHOTOSHOOT WITH THE BOYS THIS SOON" he yells.

"I CAN FIX IT" i yell back.

"i only did your back! i didn't know if you were the kind of chick who liked that kind of stuff... how do i explain this to my manager?!" he says getting mad.

"why the fuck do you have to say anything to them about it calum? they're a manager, they run the band and everything sure but they don't OWN you " i screech back.

"because he's my fucking manager! what don't you understand. he tells me what to do, how to do it and when to do it. THIS isn't okay" he yells clapping his hands at me.

"if it isn't okay why did you even let me. why did you bring me here calum, you obviously don't want me here so why can't i just go home back to my parents... people who ACTUALLY want me around" i way starting to cry.

he sits down on the floor in front of me and holds my hands.

"fuck. don't cry babygirl" he pleads.

i stop and raise an eyebrow at him, he's never called me THAT before. he realizes what he did because he rolls his eyes and sighs.

"don't cry okay? it's fine"

i get up to leave but he grabs me back by my arm.

"why were you crying in the club last night. don't fucking bullshit with me and say what you did to ashton that you were tired because you weren't tired enough not to fucking ride my dick and stuff were you" he says grabbing my face with his other hand.

i'm so scared i'm going to make him mad and i feel like this is all just going nowhere because no matter what i say to him he's going to find a way and a reason to get mad with me over and over.

"nothing, you wouldn't understand" i finally say.

"who says that" he says.

"please let go" i ask tugging my arm away but he just grips tighter.

"i'm sick of the shit man, just tell me the truth" he shouts.

his eyes seem darker than usual and if he frowned any more than this his eyebrows would be touching.
i look at him for a while.

"you're making me mad" he says slowly

he warns me he's getting pissed off and apparently i don't want to see him get there to full blown pissed because i won't like it.
his phone rings and he lets go, it's ashton.

"when i come home, you better have an answer ready. you have 3 hours then i want you to speak" he hisses and walks out the door not even stopping to pat duke.

i sit down at the table and for some reason all i can do is cry. he's changing right in front of me and i don't like it.