The fans made us (camren) | on hold

Nine

As soon as we got back from rehearsals, Camila jumped straight into the shower, making me go in after her.

She only took about ten minutes so thankfully I didn't have to wait a long time to clean off.

I was currently out of the shower but still in the bathroom, drying myself and getting into my pyjamas; a long black t shirt and a pair of black and white short shorts. I had my music playing from a small but loud speaker in the corner of the bathroom and sung along to it as I changed into my fresh clothes.

Once I was finally ready, I unlocked the bathroom door and walked out, a towel wrapped around my wet hair. I instantly spotted Camila. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, her legs hanging over, facing mine. Her head was down, her eyes scanning her phone which she was holding in her lap. Brunette locks of hair fell messily but perfectly down either side of her face, leaving a small gap in the middle which I could just about see her subtle facial features.

She had been strangely quiet since we got back from rehearsal. One word answers... She seemed distant, sad almost. I frowned, suddenly realising this.

I cleared my throat which made the younger girl jump, unaware of my presence. She immediately locked her phone and her eyes shot up, chocolate brown flooding into mine. Her cheeks looked slightly pink, like she was hiding something. Was she embarrassed?

"Hey Camz... Are you okay?" I asked, making my way over to the edge of my bed so I was sat similarly to her, facing her. My attention was now fully on her and nothing else seemed to matter.

"Yeah." She answered quietly and quickly, averting her gaze away from my eyes shyly. Yeah, I'm not convinced.

I leaned over and placed my hand gently on her bare knee and she tensed for a moment, "are you sure?" I asked again sincerely.

I was staring at her intently, my gaze not wanting to leave her face for a second. She wasn't okay, I knew she wasn't, but I wanted to know why.

After what seemed like a few long minutes, her gaze still trailed low, she finally spoke up.

"How do you know if you love someone?" Her voice was very quiet, again. It was almost a whisper, just above. I slowly removed my hand from her knee and placed it in my lap, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Why do you ask?" I wondered, "is it... Austin?" I asked cautiously.

Her brown eyes met mine hesitantly once again. "Yes." She fiddled with her finger in her lap.

I sighed. This girl seemed so confused about him. If I didn't know any better I'd say that she wasn't even interested in him.

She swerved him today... Not that I'm complaining, I don't even like him.

"Well..." I inhaled, thinking of what exactly to say to her.

Love is such a strong emotion. I, myself, couldn't say if I have exactly experienced it to the full potential.

How was I suppose to explain such a feeling?

"Love can be a feeling or simply one person who makes you feel special, no one else can make you feel like that. I think you would always want to be near them," I began slowly, my eyes never leaving the smaller girls face in front of me. "You'll always want to talk them, even if they're talking about something you have no clue about, then you'll listen." I sat closer to the edge of my bed, removing the towel from my hair and letting my dark locks fall freely. "You don't even have to talk, their presence is enough."

"You'll laugh at their jokes... even if they're stupid and most of the time, not even funny." I smiled slightly at my statement, causing the younger girl to grin and blush shyly.