Or Is It Real?

Chapter 37: No Filter

Lauren's PoV

"Will you - hmmm - will you let me? Kiss you?"

I suddenly feel like I was submerged in water, and all I hear is the pounding in my ears as the blood rushes to my head. Everything else is muted and I can't hear jackshit aside from my loud thoughts now screaming for me to watch out for danger, and suddenly I feel like I'm having trouble breathing as if I was really drowning.

Fucking punch her in the stomach, headbutt her, knee her in the vag, or stomp on her toes! Just don't let her kiss you, my mind screamed at me.

Oh, so now you don't want me to kiss her, when not so long ago, you were all about forgiveness? I mentally accused my mind - wait, myself - shit, I'm going crazy, having an entire argument with my own damn self, getting thoroughly confused on how to react to this dire situation that I'm in.

I said forgive her, so both of you could move on and start a healthy friendship, and not get stuck in the past, a problematic past may I add, you dumb fuck. I didn't say make-out with her because that'll just take away months of progress! A voice inside my head scolded, as if there really was a different entity inside me, with an entirely different beliefs and personality. It's scary.

"Lauren?" I steeled my gaze back to Camila's face when I heard her voice, alternating between her gorgeous brown eyes, and her soft-looking pink lips which are partially-open as if inviting me to put my tongue inside and suck the soul out of her. I have a feeling she will willingly give it all to me, not being arrogant or anything, I just have a good sense that she might.

When I felt her hand gently cup my jaw, her thumb slowly caressing my cheek, I forgot why we even broke up in the first place.

How could I be so weak? One touch and I'm an idiotic mess?

Camila obviously took my silence as a yes because she's now slowly leaning in, her eyes flickering like candlelights in a dim room, bright with emotions I couldn't interpret. Warning bells rang nonstop inside my head and as much as I found myself anticipating the feel of her lips on mine once again, my mouth seemed to have a rebellious mind of its own.

"No." I abruptly said.

"No?" Camila asked, stopping her movement, her voice sounded so melancholic.

I gulped.

Why am I fighting so hard?

I shook my head. "No. You're drunk."

"I'm not drunk." Camila scowled at me, she lifted her hand that was on my cheek to run it through her hair with obvious frustration. I always find it sexy whenever she does that.

"You literally smell like my alcoholic Aunt Gertrude, Camila. You are drunk." I scoffed.

Trapping me again between her arms, she raised her eyebrow and said, "First of all, I don't believe you have an alcoholic Aunt Gertrude... secondly, I'm not drunk, maybe just a tiny bit intoxicated -- but totally not drunk," her words slur, and I smirked at her to which she only rolled her eyes defiantly, "... and thirdly, does it mean that if I wasn't "drunk" you'd let me kiss you?" She bit her lip as she waited for me to answer.

Jesus fucking H. Christ why is she so damn hot? How could I respond logically when my brain is totally kaput and --

Camila spoke up again, her voice now taking on a sassy, confident tone. "You know what? Fine. I am drunk. If I wasn't I wouldn't even have the courage to be alone in the same room with you. I miss you so much, Lo-Lo --"