CAMERON MONAGHAN IMAGINES

15 Minutes. (Cameron)

"Latte for you, good sir." Once extending your arm, Cam yanks it like a rope, dragging you into him.

He pecks your maroon stained lips. "Good morning, beautiful." He positions a bit of hair behind your ear.

"Hey L/N! Get Monaghan back on set in 15! You get my coffee?" The lungs of a heavy smoker screams from across the auditorium.

The fat man is always demanding so much. It's tough dating the boss's coworker. Cameron's never been to fond of him either. He uses childish mockery and impressions to display his 'affection' towards the lazy man. "Be right back." You say, overly peppy. Cameron get's the sarcasm and giggles as you stroll to your boss.

"Don't worry, no creme this time."

His stiff expression shows no change with your words as brings the hot cup into his possession.

You tap your foot, waiting for any recognition of a human serving him. "Okay..."

He sips the coffee, not unwinding the wrinkle between his fuzzy brows. "15 minutes is all you have with him. Then you go to the other set. You are not to see him and you know that, Ms. L/N." At the end of his sentence, he bursts into a fit of coughing, no doubt black mucus is gurgling around in his lungs.

"Alright, sir. Thank You." You exit during his stunning performance of 'Kids, this is why you don't smoke.'

Cam slumps in his chair, sipping the soothing latte you'd served him.

"Baby Carrot, we've only got 15 minutes until I work with another set, so how do you want to make use of our time?"

Cameron perks up. "I have something to show you." He rises. This was an odd occurrence. Usually, Cameron goes about his work day, focussed.

"What is it?" You breathe out, pacing your hands down your thighs.

"We have no time. Come on!" He snatches your hand, hauling you across the auditorium.

"Cameron, we have limited time here. We need to fill that up!" You fight him as he's joyfully dragging you along. It's not that you felt this wasn't important, it's that you didn't like surprises.

He bursts double doors open and prances into the lobby area. It's absent of people with a lack of noise clogging your ears.

"So...is there a surprise here?" You question when he lets go of your fingers.

"You want to do something crazy?" Cameron neglects your question, gazing out onto the vacant front parking lot. To avoid press invading the area, cast members and employees are instructed to park along the back lot.

"Depends." You step next to him, examining his profile. He's constantly sophisticated looking; like there's a revolving door of thoughts whirling through his mind at all hours.

"You know, these windows." He gathers your fingers and positions them on the glass. Blithe pad of his thumb makes small circles on the back of your hand. "They're like a TV screen. They're huge, in this particular case. And people can see through them, from the left wall to the right. Staying in here means any bystanders will watch our show and pick up the pieces, like they do when they start watching a show halfway through."

There's the Cameron you know and love.

"Good thought." You praise him. "And what do you intend on doing with this TV show?" You refer to your relationship with him.

He draws his attention to your mobile lips, removing your fingers from the chilling glass. His hefty fingers embrace the bones of your hand, squeezing them firmly.