Hands to Myself ➰ M.D| ✓

Cheerleader

A buzzing noise woke up Camille that morning. It lasted for three seconds, then it stopped; but then it started again. She forced her eyes open, finding her phone vibrating against the coffee table. She grabbed it in a strong swipe and read the caller ID; Pierson. Of course. She groaned and turned the phone off, she didn't want to be thinking about him right now.

She looked to her left, finding Matthew sound asleep next to her. She smiled to herself, noting the way he had an arm clenched around one of her throw pillows. Matthew was an odd person, but that what made him so interesting to her. Even more, he wanted to know everything about her. She had never met somebody who was so curious to know what her favorite band was, or had taken the time to listen to her vent about her mother back in Sydney. He was a genuinely kind person, a person who was absolutely mad about her. Of course, she didn't quite know that yet.

Camille's smile suddenly went away, because she remembered a cold, hard fact. He had a girlfriend. She had met Kelly once before when he brought her onto the set. She was nice enough, but Camille could see how possessive she was around Matthew. That wasn't fair, especially not to him.

It was six-fifteen, Camille had to be at the studio by seven twenty...so did Matthew. She decided to let him sleep a while longer, and went to make coffee. She had a beautiful view of Toronto in the early morning, sun rays were peaking out from behind the CN tower. She was truly lucky to be living in such a beautiful city, she could've been stuck out in the desert somewhere, like on her last job. But, with the success of the show growing in exponential numbers, there was the promise that she would get to stay in Toronto for a long time. There was the promise that she would get to work with Matthew.

She gasped when she felt something slither around her waist, but settled down when she realized it was only the devil himself. He rested his chin on her shoulder, looking out at the rising sun over the city.

"Beautiful morning," his voice was raspy and low, it was a sound that made Camille's insides bubble.

"I suppose it is," she replied quietly, "Would you like some coffee?"

"Sure," she expected him to let her go so she could brew the grinds into liquid, but her kept his arms locked around her.

"Well, if you want coffee, you have to let me get to the coffee pot," she said. Matthew nodded suddenly and he let her go. Camille stifled a giggle while Matthew leaned against the counter awkwardly. He hated this, he hated that he couldn't have Camille. Here she was in front of him, slightly groggy in a morning state, but he couldn't even kiss her.

Camille let the coffee boil on the stove and turned to look at him. His hair was slanted and pressed to one side, and his shirt was half tucked in. "What's on the schedule for today?" she asked, trying to make menial conversations.

"Running lines with Harry, Em and I have a bet that Dom's gonna twist his ankle on the stunts later," he smirked. She giggled quietly.

"How's Kelly doing?" she didn't know why she asked that, but she did. Maybe she was just curious? Maybe, given his behavior in the past few weeks, he's moved on from her.

"I haven't talked to her in a while. She's busy with work and stuff," he replied.

"I know. Long distance is difficult," she said.

"What's Pierson up to these days?" he asked.

"Oh, trying his luck to win an invitation to the Golden Globes," she scoffed, turning to get two mugs from her cupboard.

"You don't think he'd make it?" Matthew really didn't give a damn if Pierson went to the Globes or not, he wanted to know what Camille thought of him.