Old Money || Shawmila [Completed]

19. Pillow talk

The room was dark and quiet and so, so peaceful. None of them were sleeping yet, they were just absorbing that blissful feeling as the endorphins run through their veins. Sex between them had always felt like a spark of energy, a firework display, an ecstatic rapture even, and yet Camila had never been more satisfied than in that moment.

Shawn's muscular arm was draped around her shoulders as, skin to skin, they were laying on her bed. Part of her was struggling to process what he had said to her earlier that night. She was very conscious that he didn't say he loved her – to be precise he specifically declared that he didn't want to – but he spoke to her with such clarity in his heart that she knew he wasn't lying about the rest.

And she was happy. If sharing her nights with him meant she could have him back, even if for just a tiny part of the day, then she was fine with it. Honestly speaking, Camila knew all too well how their past prevented them to pave the way to a solid relationship. She understood that and she was willing to take responsibility for it.

She looked up at him. His cheeks were lovingly rosy and a few curls still stuck to his glistening forehead. His mouth was curved in a timid smile as he played with the tips of her fingers. «I missed seeing you like this» she admitted almost whispering.

«Like what?»

«Spontaneous. Relaxed. Happy, maybe». She stared at him. «What changed?»

He looked her deeply in the eyes. «I forgave you. For everything you did, I forgave you. That doesn't mean that I forgot, though»

«How?» she asked in disbelief. «I mean, I've been so deceitful, so cruel»

A short, bitter, sarcastic laugh left his mouth. «Don't look at me like I'm some kind of virtuous man. I didn't do it for you, but for me. All that anger that I've been harboring took a lot of energies from me and, since apparently you won't leave my mind, at least I want to make the most of it. I rather think of you naked and writhing underneath me than stabbing me on my back».

«I can't blame you for that» and she meant it, but it stung a little either way. She let go of that shortly after, when Shawn suddenly hovered over her just to slide lower on her body, leaving behind his touch a trail of pure extasy. Starting from her neck, his lips peppered wet kisses until they reached her most sensitive points. His tongue worked its magic on her nipples, but it got even better when it finally made contact with her center.

Meanwhile, his hands were roaming on every inch of her skin. His palms - large and warm - squeezed her most mellow spots: her small but firm breasts, her voluptuous thighs, her round ass. She didn't know how or when he learned to touch her that way, but she was thankful for that.

Soon the room was filled with gasps and moans and groans, and Shawn's recent words were quickly put aside, confined on a remote corner of Camila's mind.

The following morning he was still sleeping in her bed. The Sunday winter light filtered through the windows with its pale beams, tinging with its coldness Shawn's pretty face. She let his tired body rest a little longer while she sneaked out of bed to make some coffee. She thought she could get used to that: waking by his side and making him some breakfast.

She started by cracking some eggs and toasting a couple of slices of bread. As silently as possible she cooked them on a pan, scrambling them just like she saw him doing countless time before back in California. Before she could plate them up, Shawn entered the kitchen and sat on a stool facing the counter. His naked chest was kind of distracting, but Camila didn't mind the view.

«Did you cook?»

«It looks like it»

«If this is your way to try and kill me, just know that you probably wouldn't get away with it».

Camila rolled her eyes. «Fine, do it yourself then» she spat, taking the plate from under his nose.

Shawn chuckled and stopped her. «Jeez, I'm joking». He skeptically sniffed his breakfast and took a tentative bite. His brows raised in surprised. «Holy shit, they're actually edible. What the hell? When did you learn to cook?»

«I'm a grown adult living alone in New York. I have to fend for myself, which means I can't entirely rely on take out»

«Well, this is some sort of miracle»

Camila scoffed. «You don't have to always be an asshole, you know? You could just say they're good»

Shawn smirked and pulled her to him, her tiny body fitting perfectly between his legs. «They're definitely good. So good that now I expect you to cook me some eggs every time we have breakfast together» He leaned in and left a chaste kiss on her lips. «Is that okay?»

Camila smiled. «That means you wouldn't try my other delicacies, but if that's what you want...»

«Honestly, there's only one delicacy I'm really interest in»

She swatted him on his arm. «Oh my god, stop being such an horndog!»

They kept that banter on for much longer, until Shawn had to leave her apartment just before sunset. Camila kissed him goodbye at the door, watching as he walked away on the concrete sidewalk while the last rays shone over them. The air was colder, all the fallen leaves had rotten on the ground and as the freezing November approached, Camila welcomed a familiar warmth inside her heart.