~Camila~
"𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒂, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕"
To the world, Camila is a breath of fresh air; a woman of gentle smiles and a joyful heart. Her charm is her armor, and her intellect is her weapon.
B...
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Camila's Point Of View
After wrapping up my bath, I took a moment to relish my reflection as I sat in front of the dresser, towel-wrapped hair draped around my shoulders.
I then meticulously dried my hair before pulling it into a tight bun, letting soft bangs frame my face.
My makeup leaned towards a nude palette, a choice that felt both elegant and understated, perfectly complementing the splash of glamour I was about to embrace.
As I slipped into my sequin gray gown, I felt it mold to my body, clinging to every curve with a flattering snugness.
The slit that ran from my mid-thigh to the floor added an air of allure, highlighting my toned legs and daringly hinting at seduction.
I adorned myself with simple diamond jewels which twinkled delicately against the fabric of my gown.
Gazing at my reflection, I allowed myself a moment of confidence, pulling my glossy lips into a satisfied smile.
The final touch was my favorite coconut-scented perfume, lending an exotic allure to my appearance.
Glancing at the clock, I realized that Dylan was soon to arrive, my date for the evening.
Initially, I'd planned to attend the gala solo, but Dylan offered to be my escort. It was impossible to resist as I realized I needed a companion to help get through the boring event that would consist of unfamiliar faces.
I slid my phone into my clutch and fastened the black-strapped heels that awaited me on my bed.
With my gown held carefully, I descended the stairs to find the doorbell ringing just as I reached the last step.
A smile crept across my face, knowing it was Dylan on the other side.
"I'm coming!" I yelled, scribbling a quick note for Ava and leaving it on the coffee table. I opened the door to find Dylan, impeccably dressed.
His eyes widened in admiration , and he muttered a soft, 'Wow,' while taking in the sight of me.
While I felt flattered, a sense of discomfort enclosed me. I smiled tightly under his lingering gaze.
"Let's go," I urged him, prompting him to clear his throat awkwardly before extending his hand, an invitation I accepted as I intertwined my fingers with his.
****
The moment we arrived, I stayed glued to Dylan's side, desperate to avoid the leering eyes of several older men.
One in particular was particularly egregious, shamelessly gawking at me while repeatedly licking his lips.
"Dylan," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the party chatter.
"Camila, what's wrong?" He murmured, concern etched on his face.
He pulled me closer, his arm acting as a protective barrier around me. I didn't protest; his presence was a shield against the unwanted attention.
