Obsessed | Camila x Reader

twentynine

If there are any mistakes I'm sorry I wrote this with my eyes half-closed from tiredness 😂 Grammarly, don't fail me now!
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Uneventful weeks pass. She suffers one other outbreak, though much less violent than the first, and much quieter. I hadn't known it was happening until I walked into the living room to find her scribbling angrily until almost the whole piece of paper was covered with pencil lead. I'd sighed, sat beside her, and rested my head in her shoulder as she continued to fill in the gaps where the remnants of printed words were still visible.

My cheeks have started to fill in, weight slowly building on my ribs and hips again, though the dark circles around my eyes remain. She gives me the medicine when we wake up in the mornings, and she was right: I have gotten used to the taste. I eat three healthy-portioned meals a day, usually snacking in between, and Camila often jests about my insatiable appetite. I don't mind, though. I'm hungry. That's a good thing.

Then, as if we'd reached some sort of goal she'd silently set, she jumped out of bed one morning and dragged me to the bathroom mirror.

"Look at that," She grinned, planting her hands on my shoulders and beaming at my reflection.

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" I frowned, watching as she turns her gaze to the side of my face.

"You. You're beautiful again." she hummed contently, snaking her arms around my waist.

The following morning, she awoke with a start, body coated in sweat and nothing but apologies spilling from her lips, over and over again. In the chaos, she forgot to give me medicine, but I still ate a whole bowl of cereal and two slices of toast.

"I'm sorry," She repeats, sliding beside me on the sofa, after I finish my breakfast, "I didn't want to do it. I didn't mean to."

"I've already told you, Camila. It was a dream." I reply, turning to face her. Her brown eyes shoot to the ground almost in shame as she nods.

"I hurt you." She explains, a hand coming up to run through her hair, "I... I hurt you because... I can't say. I don't want to say."

I shift in my seat, wanting to reach over to comfort her but not knowing how she'd react to the contact.

"It wasn't real," I mumble instead, grateful when she's the one to toss herself against me, throwing her arms around my neck and burying her face in my hair.

"You're amazing," she breathes, chuckling slightly, and leans back to look into my eyes, "You know that?"

I shrug, laying my hands on her knees and smiling cheesily. The words fall from my lips before I have a chance to stop them, not that I'd likely find it within me to hold them in. "You're amazing-er."

I might've kissed her if she didn't beat me to it. These past weeks, she's been nothing but good to me. There's been no mentions of my past, no hitting, no anger. When she kisses me, it's as soft as the sunlight pouring through the window behind the sofa. Her hand cups my cheek ever so gently, the other idly grasping the side of my shirt.

"We should go to bed," She suggests against my lips, but quickly pulls back with widened eyes as our cheeks begin to heat, "Not like that! I mean, well, I'm tired. You probably are too, but if you're not, that's okay. You can stay down here if you want. But, uh, I'm gonna go to bed."

I laugh breathily, taking her hand and helping her up from the tattered sofa, offering a small "I knew what you meant," before following her up the stairs.

...

"Said it was her friend's or something. She got it when they died." A muffled voice speaks, breaking me from my slumber. When I look over to Camila, however, she's still fast asleep.

"How come I never knew about it?" Another questions.

"She brought me here once, but told me not to tell anyone, even you guys."

Curiosity getting the better of me, I slide from the mattress and pad over to the window, peering between the gossamer curtains. My eyes almost bog out of my head when I spot the sources of the voices making their way toward the house.

"And you're sure she'll be here?" The tallest asks, a hand above her eyes to block the sun as she peers up, almost spotting me in the window.

"As sure as I can be." The first shrugs.

"Camila!" I hiss, glancing back at the woman sprawled among the sheets.

She grumbles slightly but doesn't stir.

Rolling my eyes, I soundlessly hurry over to her, shaking her slightly. The voices draw closer as they approach the front door, and an alien feeling of dread bubbles in my stomach.

"Camila, wake up." I try again, "Someone's here."

"What?" She frowns, pushing my hand away and peering through her squinting eyes at me, "Who's here?"

"Uh..." I hesitate, and the doorbell rings. Grimacing, I toy with the hem of the duvet. "Your... ex-bandmates."

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Ooooooooo what's going onnn