Obsessed | Camila x Reader

thirtyfive

mature
*wiggles eyebrows*
—

My eyes haven't left her since I saw her again. She can obviously feel my staring, as she keeps turning from the road to make funny faces in my direction, eliciting laughs from the both of us. I'd never noticed how the light picks up her eyes when she laughs.

"Where are we going?" I ask as we turn onto a country road outside of town.

She hesitates, the hand on my thigh tightening slightly, before saying unsurely, "Home."

I smile. Home. Wherever she's taking me, it's home.

"Good." I nod, finally looking away from her and out the window after intertwining my fingers with hers that lay on my leg.

"Is it?" She questions quietly like I'm not supposed to hear.

I frown, but only bring my other hand to hers, clasping it between my own.

...

"I've got something to show you," She announces with an excited smile as she takes, from the trunk of her white car, the tub of something-or-other she'd bought at the animal store. I squint over the glinting roof, bright even through the lenses shielding my eyes, and wait for her to be one step in front of me before following her into the house.

Once inside, she sets the tub on the bottom step of the worn out staircase and turns to face me, sighing contently and bringing her hands up to cup my face. I smile back at her until she frowns as if offended by something until her fingers curl around Ari's sunglasses and pull them from my face.

"What did they do to you?" She hums, tucking the arm of the sunglasses into the neck of her shirt, "What did you say to them?"

It takes me a moment to realise which 'they' she was talking about, so I decide to cover all of them. "They took me to the police station, and- and the police kept me there for ages." My eyes fall, and she smiles sympathetically, running her thumbs along my cheekbones.

"It made you remember, didn't it?"

My brows twitch momentarily, but I remember she knows everything about me, and take comfort in only having to explain myself with a simple nod.

"The girls got charged with something, I don't remember. Then Ariana—you know, the friend from rehab I think I told you about—she came to pick me up and made me stay with her at her hotel. But I wanted to come back. I messaged you on Instagram—oh, she gave me a phone. I should probably, uh..." I trail off, patting my pockets and slipping the device from a back one to hold it out to her.

"No. No, no. Don't do that." She pushes the phone closer to me, "No more, now. No more-" she takes a deep breath as I frown up at her, "I... I want to be normal. I just wanna look after you. No more crazy."

My jaw falls slack. Previously, that word would've sparked an anger in her eyes so raging you'd have thought the flame would spread to anything she touches. Now, uttered by her own lips, it's nowhere to be seen.

Her tone shifts to something joyful as she drops one hand to take one of mine, the other lifting her rattling tub. "Come on. They'll be hungry."

When we arrive at the bedroom I'd stayed in, the one she'd frequently spent the night with me, my shoulders drop in relief. It's exactly the same as before, minus a few small details. She drops my hand and moves to the side of the room, but my attention is on the bed. In the center, the same crisp white envelope from the basement sits on the mattress, my name daring me to finish reading the letters. I'm about to reach out for it when I hear a high pitched squeak, followed by airy laughter. My head whips around and my eyes widen when I recognise what made the sound. Gaping in awe, I hurry over to Camila's side, smiling down at the yellow duckling in her cupped hands. The tub, now revealing itself to hold pellets of food, sits open to the side and two more little ducklings greedily gobble at the small amount in the green box they're being housed in.