CAMERON MONAGHAN IMAGINES

Food Noises. (Cameron)

"2 times the cubed root of 8 is...4!" You smack you pencil on the granite table and fetch a glass of water from the fridge. "Duhh..." You shame yourself for wasting extra seconds on an easy problem.

Gulping the clean water down is the fuel to your engine. 3 hours of studying in, and you're no where near finishing for the final tomorrow.

You sit back down, gearing up for more work. "Log8 of 2 plus log8 of X= Log8 of 24."

A squealing moan travels across the table, proceeded by, "Oh, ffffuck." 

It's none other than your long time boyfriend, Cameron. He's been sitting on his phone silence for the past 45 minutes or so, you forgot he was even there. A while back, he made himself spaghetti that's now been sitting cold between his elbows. 

You cringe at the sound of his sexual groaning. It's something that makes a rare sight in bed, so hearing him leaves you in a bit of shock.

"Yeaahhhh, Daddy."

You refuse to arouse the boy so you continue to focus on your more important task.

A monstrous groan, deriving from the pit of his stomach sqreeches through his lungs, "OHHHH YEAHHHH." It sounds like a teenage boy desperately trying out for the part of a female porn star.

You jump in place, but ignore him. "So 2x=24." Oralizing the problem will hopefully get the message across that you want no part of his childish shenanigans "Then x is twel-"

"GIVE IT TO ME HARDER BABY."

You drop your pencil, grasping the table as Cameron shakes the house with his voice.

You hold your breath to swarm your flesh with a wine stained glow. Clamping the table harder, your nails scratch the bottom. Detaching your eyes from your textbook, you dart them at him, to appear as pissed of as a girl could be.

Yet, when soaking up the scene, you slump in your chair, releasing the tension in your shoulders.

Pools of spaghetti drape from his mouth, over his chin, escaping his lips, like tentacles. His large eyes await a response.

"The fuck are you doing?" You ask in a melodramatic manner.

The deer in the headlights tries to slurp the strings in his mouth, but the bite is much too big. He struggles to chomp off the excess spaghetti, letting it flop on the plate. His chin is tinted a more saturated red-orange than his hair.

"What?" He says with a puppy dog face. "I like spaghetti." 

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I definitely got less than 2 hours of sleep last night and i'm delusional help. 

Comment and I'll love that freckle on your back that you hate so much. 

11:08 P.m.

-Bambi ;)