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CHAPTER THREE
The next morning, Camilla rolled off of her sofa and fell to the floor, realising a second too late that she wasn't on her bed. She simply lay on the ground for a few minutes, far too knackered to push herself up but eventually, she scrambled up and rubbed a hand over her face; almost as though it would suddenly wake up her up.
It didn't.
Instead, it took her a few seconds to adjust to her surroundings and as she surveyed the room, the previous night slowly came back to her.
She had left her parents at around eleven. She had managed to find a flat nearby, almost half an hour away by bus and if there was anything she was relieved for, it was that. Surprisingly enough, it turned out that Storm lived a few bus stops away from her and thus, he had insisted that he saw her home safely. Her mother had grinned at this, encouraging the idea and considering she hadn't had the willpower to argue, she had eventually succumbed.
He'd sat beside her on the bus, taking up most of their two seats. A few people on the bus seemed to have recognised him because they stared in awe, but nobody attempted to directly talk to him – perhaps it was the air that surrounded him. Or, his height but nonetheless, it saved her from having to face a situation she wasn't comfortable with.
The bus ride itself had been quiet, with Camilla's lids drooping before they'd reached the first stop. This was until Storm gently shook her shoulder, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin between the tip of her shoulder and neck. "C'mon," he'd murmured in her ear and pressed the bell, forcing the bus driver to stop abruptly. He seemed to grin sheepishly at this and they were lucky the bus driver even stopped at all. Once they'd escaped the warm embrace of the bus, the cold air engulfed them both and at one point, he'd stood so close to her that she'd felt the warm transmitted from his body.
Regardless of her sleep ridden state, she hadn't pulled away.
Once they had reached her building, he stepped forward and guided her in. A part of her had assumed he would kiss her at the door, instead he murmured good night and eased himself backwards, continuing his own way towards his home. Maybe she had been over-analysing his actions over the evening, but after dinner, he had been by her side almost all night. You're not exactly the best judge of character, she thought to herself.
She'd dismissed the thought regardless and made her way into her building, entering the lift which progressed to the fourth floor. There was a door which she used her key card to access and her flat was separated from the others across the hall – which was something that had appealed to her.
As she entered, the exhaustion settled and she managed to lock it behind her, just in time for her to kick off her trainers and head to the cupboard overflowing with sheets. She retrieved a few pillows and sheets, making up the sofa in which she had collapsed upon and drifted asleep.
