Camren One Shots

Things You Said When You Were Drunk

The OG Author: orphan_account on ao3

Summary:

Basically, Camila and Lauren live next door to one another, Camila hates that Lauren is singing all the time, and Zayn is a match-making mastermind.

Notes:

• mature

• mentions of masturbation but it really isn't a huge part

• AU

• alcohol

Work Text:

"All the people. So many people, and they all-"

Lauren's cut off by a thundering smack on the wall.

"Shut. UP!" her neighbour yells, voice turning shrill as it gets louder. Lauren rolls her eyes, ducking her head back under the shower stream and effectively blocking her neighbour out. It's a shame the girl's such a dickhead, because she's gorgeous; short yet prominent muscles, with a permanent cheeky smirk and an ass that won't quit. Lauren's seen her around the halls, usually with that dark-haired god of a man who makes her question her sexuality and makes the most irrational sense of jealousy bubble inside her. She's definitely thought about her naked, too - but that's just Lauren, she basically imagines everyone naked - and man, that's a nice image.

Right now, though, her neighbour's attractiveness is very close to being overshadowed by her suckiness. Because she's still whacking at the wall, even though Lauren's only humming now, and she's too much of a smart-arse for her own good, so she can't resist belting out a terribly pitchy rendition of Lily Allen's "Fuck You" before she finally leaves the bathroom.

When Camila stomps back into the kitchen, she can actually feel her eyes blazing. Zayn turns his head from where he's making scrambled eggs, smirk firmly in place. He raises a suggestive eyebrow, and Camila flips him off.

It's a conversation they've had many times before.

"I don't see why you complain, she's got a great voice." Zayn's using his 'be reasonable' voice. Camila hates that voice.

"Honestly Zayn, have you never heard of a principle? I wouldn't care if she was Frank bloody Sinatra, she's still obnoxiously loud."

"Oh right, because you're quiet as a church mouse, ain't ya?"

Camila only huffs in annoyance. She would usually argue on, but Zayn's dishing eggs onto her plate and her stomach growls impatiently.

"Whatever," Camila mumbles through a mouthful of egg, "but if she's singing like that tomorrow morning I might punch a hole through the wall."

"Y'know, it's probably not a good thing that you plan to have a hangover before you even go out."

"Zayn, you've known me for years now. When have I ever gone out drinking without a plan to feel truly horrible the next morning?"

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When she finally gets home, Lauren is bone-tired. Right now she's leaning against her door, finding it very difficult to lift her arm and unlock it. She wonders, not for the first time, if she should think about finding another job - she loves the bakery, but she also loves feeling like an actual human being when she comes home, and apparently the two are mutually exclusive.

The first thing she does when she gets inside is to dump her bag on the floor. The second is to drop face-first into the sofa, where she falls asleep immediately.