Obsessed | Camila x Reader

twentyfive

"I'm sorry I was rude earlier," she sighs as we make our way around the brightly lit grocery store which is giving me a headache despite the sunglasses, her arms around me as she pushes the cart, her chin resting on my shoulder, "It's just that something's come up."

"What is it?" I question, watching as she reaches up for a loaf of bread before we continue. When she stays silent, I carry on. "Is it something to do with whoever you were talking to earlier?"

She sighs, plants a kiss just beneath my ear, and stops pushing to wrap her arms around my waist, ignoring the odd looks we receive.

"You know you mean the world to me, baby?" she begins, an air of hesitation in her tone that makes me gulp and nod, "Well... I cancelled the tour to look after you. I used medical excuses, and now... well, now they're running out of time. Management wants me back on tour and everyone's up my ass about it and now there's something else in the way and I just... I want to stay with you, baby."

"What's the something else?" I ask with a slight frown.

"That, I can't tell you." She sighs again, nuzzling into the crook of my neck before returning her hands to the cart and continuing to guide us around the store.

Cancelled tour. Running out of time. Something else.

Is she okay?

"Camila?" I start when we turn into the next aisle. She grabs two tins of tuna and one of corned beef before humming in acknowledgement. "Do you think... I mean, what if... Maybe..." She chuckles, shifting her hand closer to the center of the handle to run her thumb along the back of my palm. After a deep breath, I close my eyes and hope for the best. "Take me back on tour with you. I promise I won't try to get away. I mean... where would I go?"

She chews the inside of her lip in thought but doesn't otherwise react, moving on to the next item on her list.

...

"That's Camila," someone whispers as we stand in line, "Camila Cabello."

When the woman doesn't react, my brows know and I look up at her.

"They recognise you." I point out quietly, "Those girls over there."

"I know." She nods, keeping her voice hushed too, "Don't look."

But then, the tallest girl of the group speaks up, loud enough that Camila couldn't deny hearing it.

"Hey, Camila! Can we get photos?!"

As the others try to hush her, already turning red in embarrassment, Camila subtly rolls her eyes. She utters a small, "Wait here," before moving over to the group and swiftly taking some photos with them. Before she returns to me, the talks to them a little, the stern looks and serious nods that they offer showing that it's something she isn't taken lightly.

"What did you tell them?" I inquire curiously when she comes back, not even waiting for them to scuttle off excitedly before wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders.

"Not to tell people where they saw me. I said I'm working on a surprise for when I make a comeback now that I'm 'feeling better'."

"Oh." I nod, turning back to face the front of the queue. The shift in position doesn't make her move, so instead her arm loops over my shoulders in a way that her elbow sits loosely against my collarbones. I mean my head against her upper arm slightly as I wait for us to be served.

...

"You're so beautiful. You know that, right?" Her tone holds nothing but genuinity as she drives us hom- back to the house, a hand clasped gently over my eyes.

My cheeks heat up as I shift slightly in my seat, repeating the words in my mind.

"You seem to think so."

"I know so," she retorts, "You want to know what my favourite photo of you is? The one on your Instagram, where you're on that boat and the sun is really orange and the sky is almost purple behind you and you're glowing, that one. You look so happy there, Y/n. Did you have a good day that day?"

I scoff, and I can practically feel her frown.

"No?" She questions.

"No. Not really. Not after that photo was taken."

"Why not?"

"That's the first time I..." I hesitate, reliving the memories. My voice wavers, and I clear my throat. "The first time I did MDMA."

She gulps audibly, "What's that?"

There's a long pause in the car, long enough that I think she might've forgotten the question she'd asked at all. Then, into the tension, I exhale slowly.

"Ecstasy. I was at some dumb party..."

"That's not all you did." She states cautiously, "There was more, wasn't there?"

"Yeah." I nod softly, noticing how her hand twitches against my face, "Can we not talk about this anymore?"

"Sure, baby." She agrees, finally releasing her makeshift blindfold to reveal a dense forest, the house barely in sight up ahead. "You know," she begins as she carefully tackles a bump in the dirt road, "I'm proud of you, little duck."

A small, lop-sided grin fights its way onto my lips. It's been a while since anybody's told me that, and maybe, just maybe, it sounds best coming from her mouth anyway.