I apologize for the length; the rest will probably be half this :s
AND IT HURTS TO KNOW
cαℓιχ "cαℓ" σ'мαℓℓєу
The Stag
" ι cαηт тєℓℓ ιƒ ιм ∂єαℓιηg ωєℓℓ ωιтн ℓιƒє тнєѕє ∂αуѕ
σя ιƒ ι נυѕт ∂σηт gινє α ∂αмη αηумσяє "
∂σιηg; Regretting his life choices and nursing a hangover | мσσ∂; Tired & cranky | тαℓкιηg тσ; Himself, mostly
ℓσcαтιση; Airport >> Hiccup | ωєαяιηg; Faded ripped jeans, white t-shirt, leather jacket, sunglasses.
If there was one thing that Calix hated most about his life; it was flying. He dreaded it. He wouldn't ever admit that it scared him a little bit (he was a stag after all, and stags didn't have wings; they weren't meant to fly, they were meant to gallop across open grassy fields) because he never wanted to seem that weak. It just didn't fit into the character that he had spent so much time turning himself into. If any of his current friends knew he was afraid of flying they would never let him live it down. He pushed his hair back and off his forehead as he pulled his suitcase off the belt in the airport; he regretted not getting a haircut before he had left. He also regretted the "goodbye party" he had attended last night.
He dug his sunglasses out of his carry-on bag and placed them over his eyes before slinging the back over his shoulder. He adjusted the black leather jacket he was wearing, wondering for a moment if what he was wearing was "too high-school" for him. He was a CEO now, and the minute he had decided to book a ticket home he reverted back almost entirely towards his old wardrobe. He had always love "bad-boy" clothes, mostly because he knew he had the physic to pull them off, but also because he loved the way they looked and felt on him.
Cal didn't have anyone waiting for him at the airport, because he hadn't told anyone he was coming. But that was the way he liked it, he didn't want anyone to be fussing over him the moment he returned. He hadn't spoken to anyone in this town save his mother in almost 10 years. He swallowed thickly, his fingers digging into the back of his neck as he stepped outside and took in the familiar smells. This place was home, and as much as he wanted to admit that Upstate New York was his home, he knew it wasn't. This was always going to be his home, no matter where he went. He had a moment to wonder exactly how he was going to be getting around when his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID for only a moment before a noise only akin to a growl passed his lips. "Nat, what did I tell you? No phone calls, you can handle the office for a week on you own." He wanted to drop his head into his palm but he was in public. "I know sir, just thought you should know we've arranged for a vehicle for you. Front side pocket of your carry on, the small one; there's a set of keys to a mustang GT in there. Rental company left it at the airport for you last night." A wide, almost childish smile spread across his face. "You're joking." He reach into the pocket she described, pulled out the keys, and had to resist the urge to do a happy dance. Mustangs were his favorite car.
He quickly thanked her, hung up the phone, and went to find the gorgeous beauty that awaited him. He threw his suitcase in the back, sunk into the leather seat and sighed happily. He loved his job. He revved the engine once, then threw the car into first gear and ripped out of the parking space. He knew his destination; The Hiccup. The only coffee place in town, and the only place to get a decent cup of coffee. Whatever they had served on that plane had made his hangover worse rather than better. He pulled up outside, the place bringing back memories he'd rather not thing about right now. He parked the flashy car on the cub, grinning like the devil as he stepped out and basked in the stares he was receiving. He'd changed a lot since highschool, filled out and grew taller. He was sure once he took is large shades off they'd probably recognize him, he looked too much like his father.
He walked up to the counter rather hesitantly, the smells of the shop bringing many more memories of days spent in here, and he couldn't afford to think about those right now. "Large black please." He said quietly, taking note of the way the girl behind thec counter shifted as she head his accent. He'd spent 5 years in London; only been back this side of the world for the last year, he was still in the process of losing the slight British he had picked up. He smiled widely at her as he took the cup from her, and turned to survey the room. It hadn't changed much; his favorite seat, a small table surrounded by chairs by the fireplace was still there. And vacant. His smile turned almost sad as he made his way over and sat in his usual spot; the chair in the corner, his front to the room.
He sipped his coffee and sighed contently. He was home.
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