player ♚ lrh

23 - possessive

Calum Hood thought timing was a bitch.

And it was—to him, at least. He figured the entire concept must have some type of specific vendetta against him, because it was always off.

It was the little things that made him feel like he was predisposed for realizing things too late. Not by much, but enough to change everything. He just didn't admit things fast enough, nor did he make an effort to do something about it before he lost his chance entirely.

Things just didn't always go Calum's way. He was a man of few words, and they often weren't the words he actually needed to say. He just never got the timing right, nor did he see any opportunities fit.

Or, maybe that was just an excuse, since he didn't even know how to say what he wanted to say.

It wasn't that big of a deal. The boy had a crush, and that's it. He wasn't surprised by it, nor did he think it warranted some grand reveal. He was more of go-with-the-flow kind of guy; willing to let things happen on their own without some form of intervention. He liked to let things be, because he liked the way things were.

In other words, Calum Hood didn't feel the need to be so intense—something another boy would never relate to.

That being said, the boy did make a small effort to take matters into his own hands. But, as usual, timing was not on his side, and he found himself consciously knocking on Elise's door with no clear intentions, only to be met with either silence or Cassie—both of which gave him no indication as to where she'd been the past two nights.

It wasn't his business or his place to ask, so he tried not to mind. He just wanted to hang out with her, without Michael or Cole's presence for once, so he didn't think too hard about it. It wasn't a big deal.

He'd see her when he'd see her, for one night couldn't possibly change everything, and Calum was never one to overthink things. Elise wasn't home because timing was always a bitch—he knew that.

He just didn't know it was because she was in Luke's bed.

He had no reason to even think it. No one did, and Elise was glad. As much as she liked Luke, she was smart enough to sense it wouldn't go over well. She hadn't heard the whole story—or, rather, any of the story—but she'd picked up on enough to know there was some sort of incident, a falling out, perhaps, that irreparably damaged whatever relationship was there before.

She wanted to ask. She wanted to know the details ever since Calum and Cole first spoke so cryptically about a boy whose name she couldn't even know—And yes, the irony of their relationship now was not lost on her.

But she didn't know how to ask. She wanted to believe Luke would tell her, that he was past the point of avoiding their names and hushing Ashton whenever he so much as brought it up, but she wasn't sure. Maybe it would only piss him off.

Though, he did say quite confidently that he could never be mad at her. Whatever the case, she didn't want to push it, nor did she want to think too hard about it.

For now, it was okay. She could be here, at the café like normal, with Cole lifting her by the sides to stay put at the register, all while Cassie drove away unwanted ex-flings with her foul language and Calum and Michael took turns being her entertainment—just like normal.

But she could also maybe see Luke after. And he could kiss her if he wanted to (he always did), or he could pull her to his chest while they slept. It wouldn't be like normal, no, but neither of them cared about that in the slightest anymore.

She could have both, separately. For now.

"What is that?" Michael's voice ripped Elise from her thoughts. "Is that salad dressing?"