just a dream (camren)

twenty five

February 25th, 2017

"Nice pants."

Lauren rolls her eyes and turns around to send Camila a mock glare, but it relaxes when she realises what time it is. "Wait a second. It's a Saturday. And you're dressed and out of bed at eight?"

Camila shrugs. "I wanted to come and annoy you."

"But you refuse to get out of bed before one in the afternoon..." Lauren frowns, watching her in surprise. "You came here to see me?"

"I mostly just wanted to mock your uniform, but yeah," Camila replies, and Lauren snorts. "Anyway, we're going out for breakfast. Just McDonald's, but still."

"A breakfast date, huh?" Lauren asks, "Alright, I'm in. Still in shock about how you're out of bed."

"Trust me, I'll be taking a nap later to make up for it," Camila laughs, grinning, "this breakfast date is more important than sleep."

Lauren raises her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Mhm," Camila smiles like she knows something Lauren doesn't, before her gaze drifts down to Lauren's uniform. She snorts and makes a point of tugging the vest over Lauren's white polo. "I love the middle-aged woman look. Seriously, couldn't you just ditch the vest? The khakis are bad enough."

Lauren lets out a long, dramatic sigh. "It's my uniform, dumbass. I don't get to pick and choose."

Camila cringes, sending her a teasing grin. "Maybe get another job without an ugly uniform?"

Lauren rolls her eyes again. "You have some kind of weird vendetta against my uniform. It's not even that bad."

"Aw," Camila sends Lauren a sympathetic pout. "Poor baby is so embarrassed by her ugly uniform that she's tricked herself into thinking it's not that bad."

Lauren just sighs and starts stacking the packs of butter. "You're such an ass."

"I might be an ass, but at least I have one," Camila retorts, "yours is non-existent in those pants. I hope you brought a change of clothes, because I'm not hanging out with you when you look like that."

"Maybe I don't want to hang out with you," Lauren shoots back, "ever think about that?"

"Well, that's an obvious lie," Camila smirks at her, "you like me."

She draws out the 'I' in like, and Lauren scoffs, cutting open another box full of butter to stack. "I've changed my mind. You're no longer welcome to come here and see me. No more free sandwiches for you."

Camila pouts. "But I'll starve. Do you want me to die, Lauren? Because it'll be your doing when I drop dead."

"Stop being so dramatic," Lauren gives her a light shove, "didn't you say you wanted McDonald's this morning? I doubt you'll starve with a sausage McMuffin inside you."

"I guess the thirty hash browns I'll order will tide me over for a little while." Camila considers with a small smile. "But I'm serious about the change of clothes. I can't be seen with you if you look like that."

Lauren laughs. "Lucky for you, I brought a sweater and some skinny jeans."

"Ooh, yes, I love your ass in skinny jeans," Camila announces, and Lauren grins a little when her sixty-year-old co-worker walks past and makes a loud tutting noise, murmuring something about deviance. Camila picks up on it and rolls her eyes. "Hey, lady, the sixties wants its homophobia back."

"Camz," Lauren splutters out, sending an awkward but polite smile to her co-worker, "Sorry about her."

"Hey, don't apologise," Camila starts, but Lauren pulls her back and shakes her head. Camila sighs and watches the woman walk past with her trolley full of empty boxes, clearly finished for the day. "I don't see why you apologised to her. She was being a closed-minded bitch."