CAMERON MONAGHAN IMAGINES

Marshmallow Weapons. (Cameron)

Each droplet strums in your ears, vibrating your insides. The conditions outside sound like a recording you'd use to help you fall asleep. The rain is a brilliant contrast to the comfortable indoors. Every breath warmed your lungs. With freshly shaven legs, your cotton pajama pants rub against your skin with ease. Your hair is in a lazy ponytail. You never fail to make the effortless, voluminous look in under a minute. You're sat criss-cross near the TV, fireplace warming your back. You gently raise a mug and heat your throat with hot cocoa.

PLUNCK.

Something rudely invades your peaceful moment by colliding with your cheek

PLUNCK.

"The fuck?" It comes again. You glance at your feet and spot two mini-marshmallows. The perpetrators!

When you stretch your arm out to pick it up, another hits the top of your head. You smile and stand up, in a playful rage. You pace around the room to search for the attacker.

TAP.

A marshmallow lands on the wood floor by your feet. Ha! How does it feel to miss?!

After combing the room for the assailant, you switch rooms. You tiptoe to the doorway, the floor creaks. Once getting a close enough distance to the threshold to another arena of marshmallow bombs, you notice the attacks have halted. You wrap your fingers one by one around the doorway. With one swift movement, you leap out into the next realm of danger.

With weight distributed throughout his body, a silhouette stands in the dark hallway. Hair is gelled up and messy. He's holding a stockpile of weapons- the entire bag.

"CAM!" You yell and charge him.

His quick reactions are to his advantage and he skips backward, firing the tiny snacks at you. He checks behind him every 2 seconds or so to assure his safety.

"You're not getting away with this, Monaghan!" You snatch a pillow off a chair you pass by.

You aim to trap him in the corner of the kitchen and succeed. Cameron laughs hysterically; he knows he's been caught. You beat him in the chest with the plush pillow. To make sure he can't escape, you lean all your weight on him. You continue to assault him with your own weapon.

"Okay! Okay!" He holds his hands up in surrender. The bag in one. Perfect opportunity.

You seize the bag from his control and he gasps dramatically. You drop the pillow, still leaning against him.

"Hey, Cameron." You try to switch to a sinister persona and change the tone of your voice. "My turn."

He catches on to your imitation of Jerome and tilts his head. "Oh. You're baaad." He couldn't hold the character long and starts chuckling.

"You're a dead man!" You launch the miniscule food at his face. They collide with his eyes and cheek. Cameron opens with mouth at the perfect timing when one flies in.

Cameron pushes off the wall, flinging you back. It's hard to catch your balance. You are only held up by your heels, forcing you to clumsily walk back. You desperately try to find a counter to catch yourself on. You are vulnerable in this moment. Cam watches you struggle.

He hooks his arm around you before the last bit of balance is lost. "You good?" he asks as he lifts you back up. One string of hair dangles in front of his face.

"We're not over yet!" You don't give up. You reach in the bag a clutch a handful. Following that, you sling your arm back. Cameron's eyes widen and he turns to run. With one release, you slingshot the 15 or so marshmallows at the back of his head. You tailgate his heels. You continue firing until you both reach the fireplace room.

Abruptly, Cameron stops in place and you crash into his back, laughing. Your breathing is labored.

Before you realize what's going on, he rotates himself to face you and throws the bag out of your hands. They land across the room, spilling out on the wood panels.

"Guess I win." He smirks before pressing his lips into yours. Your arm is trapped between your two chests so you flatten your palm out on his pec.

Your racing heartbeat from running is no help to the holding-your-breath part of kissing, so you emit large breaths between each kiss. The kisses are slowed and Cameron constantly rotates the position of his head. You only imagine his pigmented pink lips wrapping around your own.

When you decide catching your breath is necessary for not passing out, you pull away. Cameron's eyelids lift gently and scan your face.

"We have a lot of cleaning to do." He states.

"No shit. You started it."

"Hey! You were lonely at the fireplace. Thought you needed some marshmallow friends."

You smile and give him one last peck before beginning the tedious task and picking up the little fuckers.