F I X T H E B R O K E N | gang!cal AU

f i x e r

You snuggled up to the warmth by your side. This was nice. His arms were wrapped around you securely. The familiar scent of leftover cologne and aloe vera body wash transported you to when you were much younger. You felt everything was right where it's supposed to be. Sure, many things in your life were in check, except one thing: Calum. He's not supposed to be here. 

You sighed at the thought. The two of you had been awake for ages but were now staring at the ceiling in silence. Both of you knew that this wasn't going to last forever, but it didn't hurt anyone to pretend. 

You rolled over to get your phone on the bedside table. 

dylan my love: 5 missed calls

You just remembered about his voicemail. Without thinking much, you played it out loud. 

"Hello, darling. Long time no talk." Voicemail Dylan chuckled. 

Calum turned his head towards the phone, intrigued at the voicemail. 

"So, I've been thinking. Y/N, I love you! I want to work things out with you because I know you're meant to be in my life. All I've done is think about you while I'm here."

There was silence in the room. The tension was building by the millisecond. 

"...I'm coming home tonight and maybe we could show each other how much we miss-." 

Your heart dropped at that instant. Calum was sitting on the bed upright now. His eyebrows were furrowed beyond measure. Creases formed on his forehead. His mind was racing. Instinctively, his fists clenched. 

"You knew all along! You knew he's coming home," he bellowed at you. 

"I didn't!"

"Is that all I am to you? Some dirty, little secret that you can play with when Dylan's out of town," he spat out. He could not believe what was happening right now. He felt so hurt by the person he thought would never betray him. He was just Y/N's distraction all this time! 

He threw himself off the bed and stormed downstairs. He couldn't bear to even look at you. You ran after him, yelling at him to stop. In the kitchen, he finally turned around to look you in the eye. You gulped, intimidated by his tall stature. 

"You're using me!" he yelled, throwing his fists on the kitchen countertop. 

"I'm using you? You're living rent-free in MY house!" you retorted. 

"You're a fixer!"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" you questioned, folding your arms akimbo. 

"You fix things! You saw that I was broken beyond repair, and you saw that as a challenge. You're helping me in hopes that once I get on with my life, you will get this sense of accomplishment. You're sick, Y/N!" 

"Fuck you!" you yelled. 

"You know it's true! Why do you think you're a personal assistant?" he spat out sinisterly. 

"Get out!" you screamed. 

Calum took that as his cue to leave. He swiped his leather jacket off the coat hanger and yanked the front door open.  

"You should be thankful that I'm fixing you! If it weren't for me, you will still be that little fucked up boy on Street 11." 

Ouch, that hurt. Calum wanted to hurt her just as bad, but he was still processing how much that hurt him. "That's how you see me?" His voice got quiet all of a sudden.