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“And I thank you for helping, but I’m fine,” Cal replied, honestly feeling a bit emotionally worn out. He opened his eyes only to see more of the dark dots dancing in his vision. “I think my body’s gonna make me pass out soon from blood loss anyways…”
"Alright. Then…just sleep. I'll be here when you wake up, probably." he replied, looking down at Cal and taking a deep breath.
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Shortly after he spoke, Cal’s vision completely blacked out. He passed out entirely, body going limp. It was honestly a miracle he stayed conscious for so long.
Cameron decided not to go to bed, and lay down in the nearby recliner, looking up at the ceiling. He didn't really know what to do about any of this.
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Cal’s breathing slowed, being closer to a normal rate. His muscles didn’t seem to be tight and stiff for once either. He almost looked peaceful aside from the reminder of the bloody shirt beside him.
Cameron eventually started to drift off, lying in the recliner. Of course, he would have woken easily had Cal made noise, but for now he drifted to sleep.
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(Should we skip???)
(sure! To morning, or what?)
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(Idk maybe?)
(or just to when Cal wakes up??)
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(Ee that can work)
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Cal awoke to pain in his back. It was from laying on the hard floor. It felt horrifyingly familiar. He sat up quickly, only to hiss and lay back down. Right… he’d been stabbed and lost a lot of blood. And… he was in Cameron’s place. Which was about as messy as he remembered, but at least Cameron had somewhere to call home. And he wasn’t exactly an invited guest, more like an injured stranger Cameron decided to watch for the night. Cal would have loved to stand to his feet and thank the other male for his temporary hospitality, but the injuries stopped him. Without the collar forcing him to get up, his body was able to refuse movement with the sharp throbbing everywhere.
Cameron was asleep in the recliner, breathing quietly and evenly. He didn't awaken when Cal did, merely shifted around and then went still again. The house wasn't too badly messy, but it wasn't exactly pristine, either.
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Cal’s eyes glanced over the room again, it taking a moment to find Cameron passed out in a chair not too far away. He didn’t know what was worse: being left by himself or having Cameron still asleep until who knows when. Cal wanted to get up off of the floor, but his muscles cried out in pain every time he tried to move. His limbs were practically their own weights keeping him down on the hard floor. He sighed, opting to stare at the ceiling. There really wasn’t anything else to do.
It wasn't much longer before Cameron awoke, peeking over at Calixto and sitting up when he saw that Cal was awake. "How do you feel?" he asked, voice rough and a bit slurred from sleeping. His hair was messy and uncombed, and he smoothed it out with his hands as he waited for an answer from Cal.
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Honestly? He felt uncomfortable being in Cameron’s home unable to move from the pain. Cal didn’t like how worried the other was for him. His mindset had never been great, so his thoughts continued to whisper that he should be dead instead of stitched up and breathing.
“Um… a bit less awful?” he attempted. There was no way Cal could lie and say he was fine. Might as well be mostly honest.
He nodded a little. "You hungry or anything? I can make…food. Not great food, I've never been an amazing cook, but it's edible." he sat up a bit more, blinking and rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he studied Calixto.
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Cal turned his head, feeling a bit uneasy being stared at. He stared Cameron directly in the eyes for a moment before replying. “Only if you’re already making some for yourself. Otherwise don’t go through the trouble of doing that,” he replied, tone even and almost monotone. After last night, it was incredibly hard to remember that he was allowed to be cared about.
"Why not? If you're hungry, I'll feed you. It isn't a problem." Cameron replied, eyes flickering around for a moment before returning to Calixto again.
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Calixto kept his gaze on the other. “I’m not even sure if I can keep anything down right now. I could try, but again, only if you were already going to make something for yourself,” Cal insisted. He didn’t want to be a burden for Cameron. It was coincidence that he was found in that alleyway, so he didn’t need to be making all these demands in someone else’s home. He felt a bit bad after a moment, remembering that the other might be missing work. “If you need to go to work then forget about it, I’ll get up myself,” Cal started, beginning to try and pick himself up from the ground.
"No no, stay down." Cameron got up quickly, stretching out a hand. "If you get up you could tear the stitches, and then I'd have to redo them. Just…" he took a deep breath. "I can miss work today, it's fine. No big deal."
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(Apologies for lack of replies! I started school today and got scheduled for work 4 days in a row so I’ve been very tired lately. I’m off work tomorrow so I’ll try and get replies done then!)
(it's fine! Take your time and no rush! :)
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Cal froze, lowering himself to the floor again. He didn't like the idea of having the burning sensation of a needle being woven through his skin again. It was ironic how the small things tended to hurt the most. "It is a big deal. You've got somewhere to be, so go," he grumbled, not liking the fact that Cameron was willing to throw away his job. He had a role in the world. He should go fill it rather than stay behind. Hell, they were still practically strangers to each other.
"Cal, seriously. I don't mind missing work for one day. It's fine." Cameron replied, standing straight and taking a deep breath. "Please believe me. I'm trying to help."
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Calixto blinked for a moment. He had never been given a nickname before. Was that what people did a lot? Give each other nicknames? Wasn't that only when two people were close?
"Cal…" he repeated, it feeling a bit weird in his mouth to not say his complete name he had given himself.
He blinked. "Oh– I'm sorry, should I not have?" he asked, biting his lip for a moment. "I can stick with your full name, if you prefer."
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“No no, it’s fine. It’s only… no one has ever given me a nickname before,” he assured Cameron quickly. He stared at the ceiling, the name playing in his mind again. He… kind of liked it. It was new and friendly.
Cameron nodded a little. "Ah. Of course. You sure you don't want anything to eat? What about to drink?" he had no real idea what to do here, with an injured Mirro on his couch.
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(Thought he was on the floor???)
Calixto wasn't supposed to feel so conflicted when asked a simple question like that. He didn't like feeling helpless and weak, but he also felt off considering Cameron's kindness. "Just… not any more alcohol…? My head is still spinning a bit," he felt himself say. Sure, it numbed the pain, but there was the fact that it made him lower his mental defence, thinking of the stench of liquor and smoke. Oh stars, he hoped Cameron didn't smoke. That would give him worse flashbacks than the alcohol did.
