Obsessed | Camila x Reader

four

I woke up to the horrible feeling of tears drying on the bridge of my nose and along my temple. Horrible, yet familiar.

I'd dreamt of falling, falling so fast and so hard that everything around me seemed to be a blur. Still, though, I could make out the echoing voices of people I knew. My old boss, his booming voice telling me I'd missed the quota yet again, that I'd be dead unless I paid him back. My family, telling me they couldn't bear to see my face anymore, that I'm a disgrace. The nurses at the rehab convincing me that I was never going to improve. Then, just before I could land, Camila. She was telling me to wake up.

"Y/n, baby, wake up." She repeats, this time while I'm awake. At least, I think I'm awake. My mind still holds the fog of dreaming, but everything feels real.

I frown momentarily, then roll over to where I feel a warmth behind me. In the dark, I can barely make out her features, though a dim glow emanating from somewhere is enough to see her smiling down at me.

"Are you alright?" She asks while I yawn, shifting slightly to be more comfortable.

Nodding, my eyelids droop, too heavy to hold open long enough to see her expression change. When they briefly open again, she quickly releases the lip she'd drawn between her teeth.

"Okay. Go back to sleep." She instructs gently. As soft as her tone, fingertips graze up and down my side where my shirt has ridden up, the cover pushed down below my hips at some point throughout the night. The warm touch contrasting against the coolness of the air, paired with the way it tickles me just enough to cause my abs to tense up, creates goosebumps across my torso, the wonderful tingling feeling that comes with them heating my body. With a content sigh, I shuffle a little closer to her, allowing my eyes to close and my semi-conscious mind to lead me back to sleep.

...

"Good morning." Camila greets jokingly from the sofa as she takes a sip from a mug of some sort of warm drink. Considering the smell lingering in the air, I think it's coffee.

"'Morning." I yawn, "Sorry for waking you up last night."

She shrugs, holding the mug between two hands and dragging her eyes up and down my body. In my dishevelled clothes, I feel insecure under her gaze. I try to ignore the feeling as I move to retrieve a water bottle from the fridge.

"I was already awake." I hear when I crouch to see what I could possibly eat.

"Really?" I frown, retrieving an apple and taking a bite before standing. I almost drop the fruit when I turn to see her standing right behind me.

"Yeah." She confirms as if completely unaware of how she'd scared me, "I don't sleep much."

"Oh."

Squeezing past her, I make my way to the sofa opposite the one she'd occupied but she takes a banana from the cupboard beside the fridge before sitting right next to me.

"So you actually do love bananas, huh?" I tease a little, grinning cheekily.

She laughs loudly, almost a cackle, her hand landing on and stroking up my thigh. Though I quite openly stare at where it now sits at the top of my thigh, she doesn't make a move to take it away, instead deciding to hum and run it again, though slower, up and down my thigh. It's only when I clear my throat that she drags it away.

"Do you want to go out today? I was thinking we could go to the aquarium?" She offers, peeling and taking a bite from the fruit as I turn my apple between my fingers.

"Is it allowed? Like, would you be safe?"

"I'll bring Amadeo." She says casually.

"Amad-what now?" I repeat, frowning deeply.

"Amadeo. My bodyguard."

"Okay." I nod, "Sounds good to me."

She grins, patting my knee as she stands to take her warm-white coffee mug into her grasp once more, taking a sip while watching me. Her deep brown eyes peer over the rim and squint in a way that reveals an otherwise concealed smile.

...

When getting ready, Camila chose to don an oversized black hoodie, the pair of dark sunglasses she'd worn the day before when I'd first met her, and some simple black jeans.

"So I don't get recognised." She explained when I regarded her outfit.

It seemed to work, as nobody has so much as looked twice so far, even with the tall, muscled, blonde man with a less-than-discreet earpiece keeping a constant distance of just a few feet away from us.

"Oh! Look at that one!" Camila exclaims, pointing to one of the circular tanks in the centre of the room, this one housing seahorses and plentiful tiny babies. A sign on the side explains how seahorses raise their offspring, and where these will go when they grow.

"Wow." I smile. Her energy is contagious, her toothy grin addicting, and the way she pulls me along by the hand to each exhibit gives me no choice but to follow her and experience more of her.

"Can you keep seahorses as pets?"

"You've asked this about every single animal you've seen so far, Camila." I point out jokingly, "Maybe you should've quit singing and been an aquarist instead."

"Nope." She's quick to refuse, turning to face me and, as if by some form of magic, seems to focus all of my attention on her, blocking out everyone else as their voices become a blur. Then, once she knows I'd hear her even over a jet's engine, she adds, "I wouldn't have found you otherwise."

"Camila." A deep voice interrupts the moment, a hand landing heavily on the woman's shoulder. I trace the arm to see Amadeo looking around concernedly, "We need to move on."

"Why?" Camila retorts, reaching out to loosely connect both of her hands to mine by our fingertips. Looking down, I watch as she swings them side to side ever so slightly.

"Please don't make this difficult." The man sighs, prompting Camila to quirk a brow and chew on the inside of her cheek. She dramatically turns back to look at the seahorses, never releasing my hands.

While she's turned the other way rather grumpily, the bodyguard taps my shoulder and points discreetly towards a group of girls in the corner, whispering and looking our way.

Nodding in understanding, I step in beside the woman and lean in to mutter, "Camila, there seem to be a few fans over there. Wanna say hi?"

Instantly, she turns to face me, then Amadeo, then back to me, before tugging me through to the next room of exhibits.

...

"Are you this touchy with everyone?" I question in the van on the way back to the bus. Camila's head is resting on my shoulder as her fingers play with mine seemingly absentmindedly. She freezes when the question slips out before sitting up and looking over at me, sunglasses propped up on the top of her head now. Her brown eyes narrow as they stare into mine.

"Would it bother you?"

The question falls so casually from her lips, despite the way it subtly accuses me of something she probably wouldn't want, something that'd likely get me kicked off of this tour, ejected from this experience before it can really begin to teach me anything.

"No," I whisper, though I feel my cheeks fill with heat before I so much as open my mouth.

She quirks a brow, hums, and lays her head back down. Her forehead now pressed against the bare skin of my neck sends an odd warmth through me as she lays a hand clumsily on my thigh once again.