My Favorite Camren One-Shots

Chapped Lips

“Can you scooch over?” the green-eyed girl asks her friend. “I’m like hanging off the bed.”

“But I don’t wanna.” her friend whines back with a pout. 

“Camila, I swear to god if you don-“

“Okay, okay! I’m scooching, I’m scooching,” Camila grumbles back, positioning herself closer to the wall. “There is that better, princess?”

Lauren sends her a playful glare and reaches around for the remote. She can’t believe that she is being coerced into watching “The Notebook” for the umpteenth time. Now, don’t get her wrong, she loves this movie. She loves the plot and the concept of hundreds of unread love letters. And she especially loves Ryan Gosling. But this is, and she isn’t exaggerating, at least the 10th time she has watched it. This week.

She doesn’t know why Camila is so obsessed with it or why she lets her talk her into this each time she comes over Lauren’s house. Well, that isn’t exactly true. She kind of knows the answer to both of those. Camila’s in love with love. She loves that Noah sends those letters, builds that house, and kisses so passionately in the rain. For her, it’s a representation of the fervor and excitement that she hopes to one day find in her own life. And that second part? Lauren’s in love with Camila’s love, if that makes any sense. Okay, maybe not love, but she really likes how into it Camila gets. The way that she stares all doe-eyed at the screen, like she’s learning something new in each scene. Or the little sigh that escapes at a particularly heart-felt moment. But the absolute best part is when Camila insists on holding Lauren’s hand because it makes the whole experience “more romantic and authentic, obviously.”

And that’s what Lauren is currently waiting for. Her eyes are practically glazed over and her mind has already drifted far, far way, but she’s still acutely aware of the fact that Camila’s hand is nowhere near hers. It’s not like she needs to be holding Camila’s hand. That would just be ridiculous. But it gives her something to do as she sits through the movie because she doesn’t really want to revisit the death glare she was given last time she tried taking out her phone. So, holding Camila’s hand, giving her occasional squeezes, and playing with her fingers are Lauren’s only forms of entertainment.

As time goes on and there is, frustratingly, still no handholding, Lauren contemplates initiating it on her own. She scrunches her nose as she thinks about it. It would feel kind of weird. Like, that’s Camila’s thing. It’s always been Camila insisting that she needs to do it and Lauren has simply allowed it. “Would Camila be weirded out if I reached for her hand?” Lauren thinks, almost groaning aloud at how dumb her own thought sounds. Of course, she wouldn’t be weirded out. “It’s normal,” Lauren reasons, “it’s what we always do.” She makes the executive decision to grab her hand when suddenly the other girl moves, sitting against the wall.

“Are you alright?” Lauren asks, leaning up on her elbows. Camila has never once even paused the movie and here she is, completely ignoring what’s happening on the screen. 

“I can’t wait to find a love like that, Lauren.”  

“Oh no, Camila. Please, not this again,” Lauren groans, “You’ve been saying this since we first watched it last year.”

“Yeah, and guess what? Nothing has happened in a year!” Camila exclaims, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “Do you know how many exciting things have happened to me relationship-wise? Zip. Zilch. Zero. There is absolutely nothing going on in that department.”

“Camila,” Lauren begins, “It isn’t that big of-“

“No, Laur! It is a big deal, okay? Everyone else is getting into relationships and going on cute dates,” she sighs and rubs her hand over her face. “I’m sick of that never being me.”