Twisted

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Sharing Sweatshirts

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Sharing Sweatshirts
Josh' POV
*edited*

"Cal!" I hollered listening as Callum knocked stuff over in the bathroom.

"What?" He hollered back.

"Can I wear one of your sweatshirts? Mine are all dirty!"

Callum poked his head out of my bathroom, shirtless. "You don't gotta ask." He said dismissively, "Go ahead. But not the green one I was gonna wear that today." He said, going back behind the door and closing the door.

I grumbled as I opened the drawer full of most of Callum's stuff in my dresser. I pulled out one of Callum's gray sweatshirts, tugging it on.

Honestly, I probably had a clean sweatshirt somewhere, but Callum's sweatshirts were bigger and more comfortable because he had so many that the insides of the sweatshirt were less worn down.

When Callum came out his hair was messy and wet and he had a thin gray shirt on. It truly gave me perspective of how much wear and tear Callum's body had on it.

It made me sad.

The way parts of his skin were thick with scars of broken beer bottles or thin scars from sharp nails scratching deep enough. It was sad, but, it really just gave me more of a reason to envy his strength.

I mean Callum... Callum was so strong. Physically and mentally. The guy hardly cried, he hardly showed when things were really really paining him until it really truly broke him down straight into the ground.

But besides the thickness of his scars, the tight gray shirt showed the thick muscles that he had.

How the man had it bewildered me too. I mean as far as I knew he ate whatever the hell he felt like, went on runs but I'd never physically seen him do something like push-ups or pull-ups.

"I like that sweatshirt" He joked, Grabbing his green sweatshirt and tugging it over his head. "Where'd you get it from?"

I glared at him, "Shut up."

His jaw dropped, "Bro, Joshy, bro that hurts. That one really hurts. Very ouch."

"I think my grandparents are coming over." I said, tugging at the strings on the sweatshirt, unable to get them even. "Which you know them but they've been extra old recently. And if it upsets you so much why don't you cry over it?"

Callum groaned, brushing my hands away from the strings on his sweatshirt. "You're so bad at this." He grumbled, tugging on the strings himself. "And you're so annoying."

"I don't wear sweatshirts every single day." I snapped jokingly, "Unlike somebody."

Callum rolled his eyes, "But when you do, it should give you training to do this." He grinned, kinda goofily. "This is kinda like those movie scenes where they tie the tie for the other person. You know?"

Callum was really close, standing directly in front of me, both of us looking down at his hands which were fiddling with my sweatshirt. His lips were so close to my forehead and all he's have to do was lean forward an each to press a kiss to my forehead.