Pov Camila I did not know when I had stopped dreaming and finally entered the confused and foggy zone that precedes consciousness. My eyes remained closed. It was allowing me to feel the reality again, perhaps a little changed by the dream that still flashed inside my head. "I love you," she said, and then a million butterflies began to fly into my stomach. I sat very still, savoring the sensation of flapping wings, wanting more than anything to believe in the verity of those words. The joy was beginning to fill me completely, but then everything suddenly became strange, because in his eyes I could see a trace of confusion and doubt. I swallowed the smile as I stared at her, my head weighing now a few tons. She stared back at me, seeming to want to stay steady and hold her words, but her eyes were simply not convincing. - Are you sure? I heard a voice formulate the question that hurt me, and I was surprised to find that it was my own voice, emitted without my lips moving. Even so, I waited for your answer. For a moment. For a few seconds. For many seconds. She did not answer, and instead kept staring at me with uncertain eyes. I felt a sharp pain when I realized that now, beyond doubt, there was an unmistakable trace of pity in that perfect green. We were both silent. She did not know how to tell the truth - that she had been mistaken, that it was not love she felt - and I trying to deal with the unbearable pain in the chest for having the quick and almost nonexistent hope ripped from me in the blink of an eye. The pain was very strong. Unbearable. So I woke up. Now, with my eyes closed, I breathed deeply, feeling the heartrending anguish leaving my soul gradually. It had been just a nightmare, and though that did not necessarily mean that it was just my imagination, and I could feel a little more alive. Suddenly, I was struck by doubts about exactly when my dream and my reality separated. I was awake, but since when had I been dreaming about Lauren? A few minutes ago? Ever since I left my apartment? Since the night he was back on the street? Maybe it had come only in my dreams, and then our reunion was not real. Maybe now I had to go back to my old life, in which day after day I gathered forces simply to continue living a little longer. With a little more fear than I wanted to admit, I slowly opened my eyes, slowly becoming accustomed to the dim light of the place and the arrangement of objects and furniture around me. It was the same room in the dream that I had had with Lauren, where she had found me, I had resolved to confess to her my feelings, we slept together, she took me to live in her house, and finally she had declared herself. So, maybe, it all happened. My hand weighed freely on the right side of my body, which made me think that maybe I was on the edge of the bed, inches from her. I looked down and saw that I was right. I turned slowly to the opposite side and found Lauren, still unconscious, so close to me that only my half of the bed was occupied by both of us, her head in my own pillow, her completely forgotten in the huge unoccupied space of the mattress. Our noses did not touch a minimum distance. She slept peacefully, her exhalation and inspiration exercise was perfect, deep and hypnotic. His expression was serene, one of his arms relaxed on top of my belly. I stared at her for some time, not wanting to think about what I was already thinking. I was convinced that my dream had not been incoherent. Not that I did not want to raise hopes, I was just convinced that her statement from the previous night could not be taken seriously. Not that she had lied. I could see up close the intent of every word she had uttered. But there was no stopping her from thinking that, instead of lying, she was just confused. For my own mental health, I had to put some points into orders: Lauren did NOT love me. Although she seemed to be sincere, sooner or later her reason would come back and she would see that she was wrong. She did not feel for me what I felt for her. At most, some carnal interest mixed with a sense of guilt a little misrepresented and with certain exaggerations. It made no sense for her to fall in love with me. Lauren could have anyone she wanted at any moment. Maybe all of them at the same time. When she finally realized these facts, I'd end up in shit again, having only one '' sorry '' to comfort me. His restless sleep was interrupted by a deep sigh. His arm left my belly and she turned away, now occupying all the empty space on her side of the bed. I kept staring at her, trying to figure out how I should act, what exactly I should do. I could not come to any conclusion, because while my rational side - and sensible - said that I would leave there as soon as possible and return to my old life, the only thing that gave me any guarantee about something, my completely passionate and naïve side kept me there, saying that somehow things would be resolved without my having to leave her again. But how could this situation be solved? Things would end badly, just like the first time our lives met. And just like the first time, I saw myself tied up, I had nothing left but to wait for everything to collapse again. I stood up carefully, not wanting Lauren to feel any change and wake up. I did not want to have to deal with the mysterious relationship that would arise between us from that day. I did not want to have to see in his eyes the doubt that I knew would sooner or later come. I did not want to have to look at her again and be afraid of losing what I never really had. I picked up the panties and coat that had been on my body for at least a few minutes the night before. Taking one last look to see if she was still asleep, I left and closed the door behind me. I rushed to the room where my belongings were still packed. I looked for a comfortable pair of shorts and clean panties, discarding the one I had in my backpack in my dirty clothes.I also grabbed my toothbrush and walked into the bathroom of that room, happy not to have to use the one in the room where Lauren slept and risking to wake her up. I took a long shower, feeling the pleasant aroma of the soap and the expensive shampoos that were there. I brushed my teeth and combed my hair, trying to ignore my most visible bruises. Still, I knew that this time had been more subtle than the previous one, because I felt less pain and saw no new mark on the body. All that had been there had been made by Lauren on the night of our reunion. I left the bathroom very attentive to any noise that could identify that I was not the only person awake in that house. Not listening, I went to the kitchen. I did not want to look rude or abused in any way, but the fact was that I was absurdly hungry. For a long time, my food was damaged by my vegetative state, but it was the last hours practically fasting that made my stomach almost self-digesting. Trying not to stir much, I poured myself a glass of milk and made a sandwich that consisted of bread, butter, and turkey breast. When I finished breakfast, I noticed that not half of my hunger had been quenched, but at least I would not faint from lack of minerals in my body. I washed the used dishes and went back to the guest room, finally planning what I would do, at least for an hour. I put all the bags and bags on the bed and opened them, revealing all sorts of things I had brought with me. I started with the larger suitcase, taking out some folded clothes and separating one by one into two piles: The clothes I would continue to wear, and the ones I would not wear any more. Not that I knew what would happen to me from that moment on, but I let myself enjoy the option of maybe not needing to use some of those pieces, which I often have to wear for the job. '' Lauren had told me that I would live there with her. The problem was that I was waiting for the day when she would regret it and decided to realize that it had not really been a good idea, the clothes that now formed a pile of vulgar and inappropriate garments, including lingerie, would not be exactly ruled out. They would just be stored in the bottom of some bag. Again, I remembered the night before. His words so sincere, his statements appeared to be so true, that my heart was filled with a discreet joy again. But I was skeptical when that, even if I discredited her words to hurt me, then in addition to waiting, I was beginning to nurture an almost certainty that one day she would come back to see that I had never ceased to be just a program girl. I had finished my task. It was not difficult to separate everything I once hated from my casual clothes, and deep down I felt a discreet but undeniable relief in leaving what no longer served me in the darkest and forgotten corner of the guest room. Lauren's request that I do not use anything else was just the trigger so that I would have the attitude of trying to forget everything that was part of the most disgusting part of my life. There was no way we could not see those things as a kind of uniform, so it was obvious that we both agreed with the choice to leave in the past everything that belonged to him. *** Now, not knowing what to do, I stared blankly at the ceiling of the room, lying on my back on the bed as I tried to get my thoughts in order. I wondered even when we would be silent with each other, avoiding glances and touches, as if this could cancel the load of sensations that traveled between us. Even when we would be in different rooms to avoid the presence of each other, even when that relationship - whatever it was, I could not say - would sustain without any comfort between the parties. I should leave ... This situation is not going to get any better ... Everything is very strange between us, maybe I never change ... - Leave ... I immediately looked at the door next to me, which was now open revealing a bit of the hallway behind Lauren's body. I stared at her, my heart suddenly jittering, waiting for what she had to say. - I made breakfast for us.Ah. That. "I've already eaten ..." I had to confess, not knowing whether to look into her eyes or look away - I woke up very hungry, so I looked for something to eat. Sorry to do that without your consent ... "" Do not apologize. - She said, coldly - You are free to do whatever you want in this house. "It's your house, I did not have the right to move ..." "It's your house too!" You can play whatever you want! She seemed annoyed by my apologies, which did not make any sense to me. Still, I thought it best not to contradict her, because Lauren seemed to be about to shout to prove her point. It was as if my words had bothered her, and I did not even know what I was doing wrong. I was silent, waiting for her to speak first. - What did you eat? - A sandwich. She sighed, running her hands through her hair and ruffling them more. I relaxed a little to see that she was calmer now. "You have not eaten anything in the last few hours. I wanted you to prove what I prepared. I continued to stare at her, still mesmerized by the changing tone of her voice. I did not know if she was really bipolar or if she just lost her temper at one point and then, in the next moment, try to look kind. - Please? "She said, and I might be going crazy, but I swore I'd seen a 'pout' by favor. "So, for the first time, and I did not know why it had taken me so long to notice it, I noticed that her mouth was just beautiful. Beautiful. Of dying. I'm still starving. Lauren is making morning for me by asking me to please provide whatever she has prepared. I stood up slowly in the process, combing my fingers through my damp hair. She sighed audibly, then smiled, still staring at me, a timid but sincere smile. It was as if every little thing she convinced me to do was an epic victory, worthy of a trophy or something. So I almost, almost returned the smile, but I kept myself serious when I remembered that although she seemed to want to convince us otherwise, it was not okay. My seriousness was not enough to shake her sudden good mood, so I could tell she kept staring at me and smiling as she made way for me to go ahead. We walked to the kitchen, so I sat in the chair at the square table without waiting for an invitation. She did not seem to mind, going behind the counter and preparing the dishes. When she came back, she carried in one hand a jar of strawberry juice and the other a plate of scrambled eggs, toast, sausage, cheese, and, apparently, herbs. The wonderful smell of all that mixture made me feel the weight of hunger in my stomach again, but still I tried to look indifferent. She sat down in front of me, and then she stared at me. It made a chill sweep my body up and down, so I figured how good it would be when I finally got used to his gaze and stopped having that kind of reaction. "Where's your plate?" I said, wanting to cut the silence, perhaps to distract my nervousness. - I already have. While he was preparing his coffee. - She said, quite naturally - I pinched a few things. I kept staring at her, meaning she should eat right, because she was so much leaner than she used to be. Even so, I kept quiet, trying to hold her gaze. I figured maybe she was waiting for me to use something on the plate in front of me, but I definitely did not want her to watch me as I devoured like a starving troglody everything she had prepared for me. - I need an opinion. I've never cooked for anyone, so maybe you can tell me if I do it right ... Lauren was the kind of person who seemed to know how to do anything right, from food to acrobatic numbers. If that was not enough, she also counted the fact that the smell of the breakfast she had prepared was simply divine.Besides, as a lover of good cooking, I had my convictions that if she had set out to cook, then it was because she knew. So I did not even need a fork in the eggs or the sausage to say it was very good. But for some reason that seemed to be important to her. So, even though I did not like having to do it while she was watching me, I took a mouthful of what was on my plate as she stared at me as if expecting the result of a pregnancy test. I stared back at her, chewing with an exaggerated slowness, and somehow amusing her with her concern and her tense air. I had never seen this dependent, ironically unstable side of Lauren. - A delight. "Anyway," I said, deciding it was time to stop torturing her. She smiled, a broad and absurdly beautiful smile, a smile of relief and joy. I was a little distracted looking at the light that smile brought to the environment suddenly, and I felt like giving it back. But again, as before, I forced myself to remain serious. One mouthful after another, I finished off my huge breakfast with Lauren in front of me, analyzing each of my movements with a half smile on my face. I tried to ignore her presence there, but she would not let me, always pouring myself more juice when my glass emptied or, when I could only look, sighed for no reason. "Do you want me to do more?" She asked the moment I put the last piece of sausage in her mouth. I'm very pleased, thank you. She kept staring at me, smiling in a discreet way, and then I wondered where all the cold posture of the previous two days was. Lauren now seemed almost harmless, someone exactly sweet and kind that only made her smile in such a simple way for me. And then, I did not understand anything else. - We're leaving today. All right? I stared at her for a moment, wondering mentally where she wanted to take me. - Because? "Well ... I thought we'd have lunch somewhere, and then we'd go shopping." I did not answer, trying to figure out what kind of shopping Lauren would like to do with me. As if she understood my doubt, she hurried to explain. "You need a new wardrobe." Clothes. That was it. She wanted to go out to buy clothes for me. Maybe this was normal in a couple's relationship - and here I forced myself to think that way, just to finish the thought - but I would let her do it, then? Would you let her buy everything for me from now on? That she supported me? "I do not want you to buy these things for me." I said before I realized that I had uttered a sentence. I watched her discreet smile leave her face slowly, turning into an annoyed expression. - Because? "Because I do not want you holding me." It makes me feel bad. It's useless. I now stare at the empty plate, avoiding his gaze. She was silent for some time, until she spoke again."I'm not supporting you." "And what do you call that, then?" Make me live here, buy clothes for me, take me to lunch and pay all the expenses I give? I stared back at her, then I saw in her eyes that intensity I could only notice when she was full of emotion. His posture was firm again, but not cold. She seemed, rather than irritated, just saddened by my words. "I'm doing what one person does when he likes the other. I'm doing what your father did to your mother. I'm not holding you. I'm taking care of you. I thought of some clever response, but I did not succeed. She used an example impossible to refute, because it was the absolute truth. My father did not support my mother, it had never been so. He cared for her, he protected her, and it was clear that this was not something he took as his duty, but he did it simply because he loved her. And if what Lauren was doing was somehow remotely comparable to that, there was no way to suppress it. Maybe I should even feel flattered, happy, protected. But somehow I still felt bad. Probably because what we had was not a relationship within the standards, like that of my parents. What we had was different, and the fact that this relationship had always been based on Lauren paying to have my company might contribute to make me feel like I was being bought in every little detail. "Even so," I began, a little embarrassed, again avoiding his gaze, "I'd rather pay my own-" "I want to give you a gift." I closed my eyes, trying to keep our conversation on a quiet level, without shouts or rude words. My concentration was shaken by the touch of her cell phone. When I opened my eyes again, she had already got up, talking to someone in the living room. I could not hear what she was saying, just single words, but by the way she spoke, it seemed to be with a woman. When she finally hung up and went back to the kitchen, I looked at her again. "You'll meet a friend of mine. She's coming here soon. *** Then I would meet Ally. From what little she had heard, she seemed to be a good woman. Essentially good. As I remembered, it was she who, at the time of Lauren's crisis, was willing to help her. Because of her, she had come out of a deep depression, and with her help she had risen. In a way, I already liked her simply by helping her and caring about her. Ironically, it was just to worry about Lauren that Ally probably did not like me anymore. She had told Ally everything, and it all came down to the fact that I was a prostitute for which she paid some nights. It was obvious that Ally must have thought of her as an idiot for putting me here, and it was equally obvious that she would judge me as soon as she laid eyes on me. The worst of it all was that I could not even blame her. I would also judge any prostitute if she was taking advantage of a moment of confusion from my best friend. I would also hate her for staying with her, because my best friend deserved better after all. He would twist her so that she would simply disappear from her life, doing the great favor of letting her live her life she deserved. But I could not leave her. Not now, not when I needed her so much. Not yet. So I would have to face that situation, I would have to face the way Ally would deal with me. I was an intruder there, so nothing more normal than being judged in every respect. This did not improve my nervousness at all, so for the third time, I was washing my face in the bathroom of the guest room, staring at me in the mirror as if seeking some strength, some encouragement. But the expectation of dealing with a furious best friend was not in my plans for that day, and being caught by surprise was not my specialty either. I wiped my face and chose to wear a simple red dress with long sleeves that I had, and put on a set of pearly earrings and bracelets that were obviously fake. I also wore a black heel, but it was not tall. Not knowing how to proceed in that situation, I closed the door behind me and headed for the living room. Lauren said she'd be here in minutes, and she just wanted us to meet. I wondered silently if, in a hypothetical situation where Ally would come upon me with insults and inconvenient truths, Lauren would defend me, standing against a person she had known for much longer.A little more than that, something selfish and stingy inside me made me wonder who she would choose, if she had to: Ally or me. Anyway, finding the sad answer to that question made me pay the price of my selfishness. I came into the room and immediately noticed that I could not afford any kind of preparation, because already sitting with a glass of water in my hands was a blonde woman, with straight hair and curled hair and dark brown eyes bordering the color black, a brilliant and exceptionally beautiful angelic aura. Standing beside her, Lauren did not seem to know if she was walking or standing in the same place. Ally looked at me with an indecipherable expression. It was not a comforting or friendly posture in any way, but neither was it accusatory or hostile. She was simply accepting my presence there for an hour without pre-judging. It would be quite pleasant if our meeting were to be summed up, but unfortunately it seemed, after a few seconds, to notice my bruises, then I saw her expression of shock almost disguised under a kind face. It did not take away at all, its beauty. "Pleased to meet you." "My recent craze in simply talking to try to ease the time of a quiet malaise was fleeing from my control, but I did not care. Now, I reached out to her and waited for her to take it. Ally stood up calmly, holding out her hand in response, holding mine, shaking it gently. The grip was not strong, but firm. The attitude of a lady, of a woman definitely secure. "Hi. I did not expect her to say she felt any pleasure in seeing me. Ally did not seem to be the kind of fake or lying woman for no apparent reason, so that was exactly the kind of answer I expected from her. What I did not expect was to feel so incredibly close to her, and she was still lower than me. Maybe it was because of her stance or her beauty that it made my self-esteem want to commit suicide. - You are beautiful. The sound of my own voice echoed again, and from Lauren's low laughter, it had echoed out of my head. So I'd said it out loud for no apparent reason, with no explanation. It did not even fit the moment, but for some reason only God could say, I said those words, and wondered if she would find me compellingly sympathetic or some kind of shoplifter. Everything about her seemed to be strong, and I had the impression mostly of the look she held as she stared at me. Her eyes were firm, they had a direct connection to mine, and if I were a little more paranoid I could say that Ally was trying to read me, unravel my supposed lies and analyze me, making sure how good or bad I was to be near Lauren. - Thanks. She finally spoke, and as if the 'reading' had ended, her eyes seemed to soften a little, almost imperceptibly, but kept directly attached to mine. "My name is Allyson. You're Camila, are not you? - Mila. I hastened to correct her. "Call me Mila." - Hey! Lauren finally gave some sign of life, interacting with us for the first time. Ally and I looked at her at the same time, trying to understand the reason for the exclamation. She looked indignant with me, staring at me with a look of '' how could you? '' - I thought only the people closest to you could call you that! Ally rolled her eyes almost theatrically. "Do not be pampered, Lauren. She introduces herself as she wishes. "She introduced herself to me as Camila. I had to ask to call it another way! I stared at her in silence, not knowing how to answer that. If my eyes could convey to her what I wanted, Lauren would remember the time we met, understanding that I could not have introduced myself otherwise, and would calm down instantly, avoiding a greater embarrassment between the two of us. I do not know if I succeeded, but she seemed to put the matter momentarily aside while she still stared at me with a genuinely offended expression on her face. Was she really upset with me over this? Okay. Discuss your terms of exclusivity later, because within an hour I have to be back to my family. - Right. - She said, turning her gaze from me to Ally - I call her Camz, so it's okay to call her Mila, end. She said with a satisfied smile. - All right, Lauren. Ally rolled her eyes. "So what do you suggest?" Lauren said changing the subject."Since I know you'll pay, even if I threaten you with death, it's up to you." - Perfect. - Lauren finished, already taking her keys and putting them in her bag, while Ally put the bag she had brought with her on her shoulders. When she came to me, standing a few inches in front of me and talking quietly, as if speaking to a terminally ill patient, for a moment I recalled our present difficulty in communication. - We're going to have lunch. I need to talk to Ally about some of the company's stuff. I know it's been a while since your breakfast, but I'm going to ask you to come with us. I felt the soft touch of his hand on mine, and instantly I was struck by the electric current that settled between our skins. If it were not for the woman standing at the door, waiting for the two of us, I'd have been given to Lauren, that way, easy that way. So it was another reason why I was grateful to Ally. *** The trip to the restaurant was silent. For a moment I thought that Lauren would ask me what I had found of my new acquaintance, who was following us in her car just behind, but she did not. So the short trip was like the traditional trips we used to make: Without any kind of communication, which again made me remember our current situation as a 'couple'. '' A couple of strangers. Unknown, maybe. Nothing more than that. We arrived at the restaurant to which I did not pay much attention until I had entered. As I walked through the door, I realized that I was in a place probably very, very expensive, both for the environment itself and for the people there. I felt stupid and completely dislocated, remembering that my outfit was suitable for at most a walk in the mall, and feeling my head simmer gradually as I walked to the table trying to hide behind Lauren. I was angry at his attitude, first by even contemplating the possibility of informing me that we would go to such a place. Then, for not alerting me about my appearance. The fact that I felt completely out of place was entirely her fault, but Lauren did not seem to care. After a long time, we chose the dishes suggested by the maitre d ', and from there, she and Ally began to talk to each other, both forgetting completely my presence. Instead of bothering me, this served to make me feel a little more comfortable, completely alone in my space as I quietly observed the correct use of the many cutlery by my companions, trying to immediately repeat the actions correctly and memorize them for an upcoming occasion. Ally talked about new contracts, company employees, custom parties and something related to travel arrangements. Lauren seemed amused, responding vividly to any comment, while I kept silent and ignorant of any subject they were discussing. Sometimes I could see from my peripheral vision that Lauren was looking at me, but then she turned to Ally, just as if she wanted to check if I was still alive. For that moment, I allowed myself to simply live the little of what was happening. So it was just the three of us, me, Lauren and her best friend, sitting at a table while they talked about work, and I simply drifted into the simplicity of the situation. As a spectator, I watched my own life, at least at that moment, without complications or problems, and as much as this peace deceived me about what I really had to face, it was good to be that way. And then, Lauren's presence at my side, her firm, protective stance, her warmth and her voice did me good. It was as if I had to be there, as if there was no other place in the world where I should be. Even if everything was more complicated than that.And then, Lauren's presence at my side, her firm, protective stance, her warmth and her voice did me good. It was as if I had to be there, as if there was no other place in the world where I should be. Even if everything was more complicated than that. So I allowed myself to pay attention only to her, even without really listening to her words, even without touching her, even without looking at her. His presence acted upon me without the slightest need for interaction. - Let's go? Scared, my body jumped discreetly on the seat, now staring at Lauren as if she had just appeared there. - You already paid? I asked, confused. - I just paid. You did not see? She answered me looking worried, as if I were green. - Was distracted. I mumbled, and taking a quick glance at Ally, I approached Lauren to speak into her ear. Because the atmosphere was too quiet, perhaps because of the cursed upbringing of all those people who were rich in almost nothing, I doubted my words had come out in an audible volume just for Lauren. "Can you tell me how much?" She moved away from me, again with the expression of someone who had just been verbally assaulted. His face, now soft, was now contorted in a grimace of rage. At last he spoke in an extremely rude tone. "It's rude to ask that. I felt my face boil immediately at his words, so I was sure that I now looked like a pepper. Extremely embarrassed, I once again glanced at Ally, who was looking at us with genuine curiosity. - Excuse me. I started, staring at her again. "I did not want to sound rude, I just wanted to know how much I owe you. - Anything. She answered, standing up, Ally imitating her act. "You owe me nothing." As if to compensate for his somewhat offensive attitude, Lauren reached out for me to pick her up, helping me up. I looked at his gesture for some time, thinking of its simplicity and, at the same time, the size of its meaning. "Can we talk about this later?" I said, now staring into his green eyes. She did not move, her hand still extended for me to take. Somehow, I understood that this was not a '' no, '' so I accepted his help, holding his palm firmly. Once again, the little electric current ran through my skin where it was against her skin, and then I allowed myself to enjoy it and get used to that sensation. When Ally left the table, before the two of us, I felt her fingers close and squeeze my hand tightly, not hurting me, but rather passing some sort of message like, 'No, I do not want to let go. '' And then this little gesture made my heart begin to beat frantically, as if I were a pre-teen discovering that I crush was actually reciprocated. I only noticed the world around us again when Ally manifested herself. We were already on the street, on the other sidewalk, and I could not remember how we got there. Instinctively, as she turned, I forced myself to let go of Lauren's hand, which seemed annoyed by my attitude. "Are you going to work tomorrow?" Ally stared at her quizzically. She seemed to ponder for some time, and I wondered the reason for her doubt. '' Tomorrow '' was Monday, why would not Lauren go to work? - I will. She answered, and Ally seemed to light up at his simple reply. - I'll be waiting. So I had the impression that Ally did not properly say goodbye to Lauren because if she did, she would have to say goodbye to me too. So a '' goodbye '' punctuated her sentence directed at both of us, and the last thing I could see was she got into her car, starting and disappearing down the busy little street. "Why did you let go of my hand?" She broke the silence, staring at me accusingly. "Because Allyson would not like to see us ..." I started, but I was soon interrupted. "And why do you care what she likes or does not like?" "I do not want her to like me less." She received my silent explanation, and after staring at me for some time, which turned out to be a more thorough and thorough analysis, she finally turned on the secret of the car and opened the hitchhiker's door for me to enter. - Where are we going? I asked with the car already on the move, grateful to myself for noting that I was developing the ability to break the silence between us two more easily each day. - Buy some clothes for you. Since today is Sunday, most of the stores I wanted to take a look at are closed, so we'll have to go to the mall. I felt annoyed again at the thought of Lauren's idea.I coughed to make my voice sound more convincing and safer. "I do not want to-" Lauren stopped at a red light and stared at me again, with an expression of '' Listen to me, '' which made me stop talking to hear what she was going to say. "Do you realize there are few 'usable' clothes left in your suitcase? "Yes ..." "And who, sooner or later, will need more clothes than those?" "I know ..." "I could even lend you some of my clothes, but my number is bigger than yours. So that means if we do not buy more pieces, some day you'll have to end up having to walk naked in the house. Again, I felt my face boil instantly with the thousands of hidden meanings that I knew she had purposely employed in that phrase. "I just do not want you to spend any more on me!" I hastened to speak, trying to feel less shame. "You want me to ban the snob, and tell you all the time I can spend as much as I want?" "No, I just want to pay for my things. "For me you could burn all your money, you would not need any." She started with poison at his voice, and I could see that it was not on purpose, not at all: Lauren only remembered where the little money I had kept came from, and she simply hated it. "Besides, I want to give you gifts." So it's me who must pay. "You must not pay me anything." I started, a little more exalted than usual. - What's your problem with that? Why do not you accept it? "Because I hate the fact that from the first moment we met, all you did was spend money on me." I punctuated the sentence already feeling the weight it would leave on top of our heads. That was the plain truth, but it might be reasonable to consider not mentioning it that way. Unfortunately, the words came out faster than my common sense, and then all that meaning hung in the air between us, making the silence rather unpleasant. She was quiet for a long time, just looking ahead and avoiding hitting a pole. I knew she must be bitch now, and I wished she knew my words were not purposeful. Still, I kept quiet, gathered in my corner, waiting for her reaction. "I do not want to buy you, Camila. I am doing this because I feel responsible for your well being. And if you do not understand that, then we have a pretty serious problem here. I remained silent, absorbing her fury disguised by the softness of her voice, but after a while, which seemed enough to make her less irritable, I spoke again, in a low voice. "I just wanted you to let me in on that, too." Not even a little. Not even to make me feel a little better. She sighed, and then I had the feeling again that there had not been one. "I felt a little more excited about the idea that Lauren seemed to be increasingly malleable about her decisions, and then let the rest of the trip be filled with the music of my favorite band Fifth Harmony - Work From Home that I was on the car radio. Our trip to the mall might have been considered a little nightmare if it had not been there. The first thing I had to worry about was people. Shocked by growing panic as I walked down the aisles, I kept my head down and my eyes on the floor, afraid that the moment I looked at a face, I would recognize him as a former customer. To make things worse, we were in a mall in that area, where everyone was upper-class, increasing my chances of being identified. And it was one thing to be recognized as a whore by being alone. It was another thing to be recognized with a whore with Lauren Jauregui at my side, which would probably make me want to die quickly and painlessly. Fortunately, that did not happen.At first Lauren made a point of going into certain stores I knew were absurdly expensive, just looking at the shop window and at the attendants' faces, who looked me up and down like I was some sewer. For each of the stores, I tried to make an excuse and divert her out of her way, but it was when I said, on her third attempt, that she did not want to come in because it felt cold inside, she understood my tactic. I asked for the love of all the gods for us to go to a simple department store, and I obviously heard Lauren's complaints. She seemed determined to buy things with exorbitant prices, so when I noticed that my requests were not working, I assured her that someday we could go back and choose the stores she wanted, as long as that day was mine. She eventually agreed, unwillingly, so we ended up at a Macy's. Since I wanted to leave soon, I randomly chose pieces of clothing of different styles and colors. I did not try anything, claiming that anything of the size P would suit me. Sometimes I tried to part with her so I could search for prices, but when she found me, already nervous about the fear that I might have run away from her, she would get even angrier when she saw me looking at the labels. When I decided that there were too many things, I informed her of my choices, but she did not react as expected. Looking resolute, Lauren warned me that we would not leave without at least three times as many pieces as I had chosen, and so I almost wanted to assault her. *** It was night when we called her apartment. The doorman was once again in charge of carrying all the dozen bags up, probably thinking I was some kind of cheap boozer, benefiting from Lauren's naivety. When the elevator reached the top floor, I immediately returned to my dilemmas and concerns. Just passing through the door so I remembered to ask myself what it would be like tonight - one next to her. It was the second full day I spent with her, and yet things seemed strange. Fortunately, the almost coincidence of that afternoon shopping at the mall made some of the ice that existed between us melting, but the frozen, massive, invisible block was still there. We were not a normal case of girlfriends or lovers. We were two people living in the same environment and having no idea how to make coexistence work comfortably. We were two people too afraid to hurt each other, to say things that could be taken as insults.We were people in constant tension when together. In constant agony of not knowing how to act, how to look, how to touch, how to smile right. - Hunger? I was startled by his hoarse voice, pulling me out of my reverie. I did not know how much time had passed since we got there. I noticed that I was sitting on the bed in the guest room, and that I could consider him as my own because I felt so much more at ease there, alone, than in Lauren's other room with her. Which did not necessarily mean that I felt better. I do not usually eat dinner. I noticed that his expression seemed mildly disappointed, but before I could tell her that I was not denying everything she offered me on purpose, Lauren spoke again. - Oh okay then. If you change your mind let me know. I'll fix something. There are fruits in the refrigerator too. "Okay." I said simply. "Okay ..." she began, looking tired. "I'm going to take a shower and lie down, then. I'm not used to walking around in a mall for so long. She spoke again, I could see in her obvious nervousness that everything she had said so far was just an excuse that would take her time to probe me. - You come? I mean, now or later? She was afraid I wanted to sleep in my room, so she rushed to give me only one option: Not if, but when. Without any reason, it was becoming increasingly obvious now that seeing her nervous and insecure amused me in a way, however cruel it might seem. It was as if I was comforted by the knowledge that she also had her weaknesses, and that, in particular, her greatest weakness was myself. It was as if, suddenly, I did not feel so small, so diminished near her. It was as if I were a little more important than I ever imagined. Being valued by a person was an unfamiliar sensation to me, but being valued by the woman I loved, if that was what was happening, was better than anything. - Do not know. "I tried to give the most ambiguous answer possible." "I think I need a shower, too. And saying that, I looked at the bathroom in front of me. "Of course ..." She started, a little distracted. "I'll make her feel comfortable." Lauren stood in the doorway, staring at me without saying anything, but her eyes were expressive, and I could almost hear them asking for it. I did not deny it. I did not know when I had acquired the ability to read it so clearly, but the fact was that I knew exactly what she meant. Finally, she realized that she was taking longer than usual there, so she left the room, leaving me alone again. So I wondered: How far would my contentment go? How far would I get to watch her lose control? Pov Lauren It was already the third time I had been through channel 107 of my TV. Each channel took precisely a second before my eyes, perhaps by an unconscious logic that made me count, by the click on the remote, the time that Camila was taking.That night was abnormally hot, so I was sitting up in bed, looking pathetically at the huge plasma TV in front of me, just wearing a pair of gray sweatpants and a white top, paying no attention to absolutely no show that passed quickly by my eyes. Why was she delaying? Maybe it was better to check. But what if Camila had decided not to sleep here? Would she come to tell me? Channel 201. 202. 210. Back to channel 1. Channel 2. Channel 25. My finger stopped on the 'next' button when I heard the bedroom door being opened beside me. Immediately, I looked at the place and saw it closing the door behind me, staring at me with simplicity. She had wet hair, falling in waves by slender shoulders, which contrasted with her dark-skinned tone. The only pieces of clothing she wore were a black shorts almost like a comfortable women's boxer brief and a white blouse that had a written word: Stussy, which outlined her waist and breasts. The bruises all over her body were obvious, greenish and purple, and then I wondered if she had done it on purpose to remind me of the careless animal I was. My heart began to beat in an unrestrained way for a number of reasons. First, she was there. She had not refused to come to me, and that was all I wanted. Second, she was absurdly beautiful and hot in those simple clothes and with that calm expression, which made my body react instantly, and then I tightened my legs a little so as not to make evident the beginning of an erection. But it was for the third reason that I felt my head turn a little and my nervousness to an alarming level, to the point of making me think that maybe I might have a heart attack or something. Just as she closed the door, for some supernatural reason perhaps, a gust of wind brought me a perfume I had not long felt. And it was just that perfume that made my body suddenly look like melting gelatin. I closed my eyes and inhaled once. Twice. Three times, testing my self-control and especially my sanity. Four times, and the scent grew stronger and stronger. Five times. Six times, and then all I could feel was that, like a slap in the face, like the desperate memory of a sleeping addiction, and that came back to haunt me with a frightening force. I opened my eyes and saw her there in front of me, a few inches from me, watching me calmly, but with a slight touch of concern or curiosity. Without a word, she took the remote control from my hands and pointed it at the TV behind her, without even looking, turning off the device and leaving us in almost total silence, which was compromised only by my heavy and desperate breath."I know you do not want to remember anything about the past. "She started, and I could not do anything but hear." But the cream improves my marks. You know it. I knew that, but I could not confirm it. Momentarily I feared that every muscle in my body would have suffered some kind of shock and would not work any longer. But my suspicions were dismissed as I began to feel my cock throb with excitement, and maybe he was even moving, which would be painfully shameful, but I could not care. Not seeming to notice this detail, she continued: "Would you prefer me to take it?" - Not! My voice came out weak, but convincing. Then, after all, I could get some reaction. "For God's sake, no ..." She kept staring at me, her eyes too bright and perhaps wanting to hide a delicious contentment. Suddenly, I wondered if it was not exactly her goal: To have me completely lost and uncontrolled in her hands, delivered and submissive to her in an embarrassing way. If that were the case, I could not care less. If that was how she wanted me, that was how she would have me. Not because I would agree to it-though I would, I would agree-but because at the moment there was no way I could fight the power she had over me. That power was too great for me to avoid. Always was, always would be. Maybe with the goal of finally killing me, she placed each of her legs beside mine and sat on my lap, not breaking the connection between our eyes, and then began to play with her fingers on me, walking paths between my breasts and my belly for no apparent reason, and making the hairs on my neck stand up all at the same time. Since it was useless to try to hide the evident stiffness between my legs, even because she was now sitting there, I did not move, only gathering the minimum of force necessary to formulate a sentence. - Are you doing it on purpose? - I am. Of course yes. She knew the power she had over me. Any idiot could say that by looking at my condition when she was around. I was overwhelmed by the old panic of knowing that she had full conviction of my dependence, and that, consequently, she could do anything to me. But this time, I would not let that fear shake me, so I knew Camila had me in my hands, but I had nothing left but to accept this truth. Besides, in a way, I was loving it. So provocatively, still staring at me with innocent eyes-a characteristic of her that drove me crazy-she slipped her fingers down again, reaching my navel, but this time she did not stop there. With a calmness that made me feel ashamed of my own lack of control, she pulled the elastic from my pants, wrapping her uncomfortably hard cock between her small hands, and without having time to think of anything else, I felt her lips touching mine. It was not a coarse or desperate kiss. It was a soft kiss, slow, wet, but with an eroticism and intensity that made my body, already completely on fire, begin to tremble with pleasure, literally. Our lips moved slowly, synchronized, sliding incredibly hot, like I never thought a kiss could be. His tongue slowly thrust into my mouth, as if he wanted to explore every inch of her, as if he wanted to find different forms of docking, and this movement was in perfect, hypnotic synchrony with his hands on my cock. All that mixture of sensations made me sure that sometime that night, somehow, I would end up losing control.I needed more oxygen than I could inhale, so my breathing was high. Without the slightest care, I wrapped my arms around her thin body and pulled as close as possible. Our kiss intensified, looking more urgent, more sensual, and the only things that kept me from flaring were her cold bath skin and her still wet hair. And added to all that, that perfume. What followed after that was very fast, at least for the speed of my reasoning at that moment, so the next things I was aware of were my fingers pulling violently at her shorts with her panties, I laid her with her butt turned me, and I stumbled across with an incredible ease into her, burying myself completely there. I moved slowly, concentrating on that new sensation. Her cunt could be warmer and softer than I used to feel, so it would take a lot less to reach an orgasm now. I moved her body slowly back and forth, getting in and out, getting used to the fit of our bodies and with the incredible sensation of feeling it fully, without any hindrance. Without any obstacle. Without any protection. It was only then that I realized that in the heat of the moment I had completely lost my head and had penetrated it without a condom. And the strangest thing was that although I should have been very worried about it, I could not get back to me. I should be worried that, even wanting to forget her past, I could not help but remember that as a program girl, she could have something ... I did not know ... So she turned to me and I fit into her. new but now facing. - Do not worry. She said, looking me in the eye and for the first time showing signs of vulnerability. I kept staring at her, not moving a muscle at all, and wondered if she really understood the dilemma I was in. "I want ... I do not know if I can ..." I started, but then I realized that I did, she knew exactly what I was going through. Gently, Camila touched her lips to mine and spoke in a very low voice: "I'm clean ... I promise ... I believed her, because her eyes were a kind of mirror of her soul. Somehow, I knew she was telling the truth. But in any case, even if Camila had some illness, it was late, because there was no chance of moving away from her now, to stop what had already begun. I gripped her hair tightly and pulled her to me again, seated her on my lap again, taking her in a kiss, unlike before, furious and urgent. She came up to me by returning the kiss and clinging to my hair as she moved methodically, causing my cock to come out and into her body deeper and deeper.Every drop she gave me started a moan of mine, muffled by her tongue in mine, and as fast as I thought it would be, I felt the first orgasm coming hard. Trying to avoid my climax, I quickly changed our positions again, laying her on the mattress and positioning myself on top of her. I tried to take off her blouse, finished taking off my top and my pants that were on my ankle, and kicked her away. Without waiting, I stuck it in again, as I laid my face on her neck and breathed in the perfume of almonds. Each time I felt a new explosive surge of desire approaching, I made us change positions. Over time, this sensation came more and more often, and at one point I could no longer hold what had to come out. At the last second, I left her very quickly and let the white liquid squirm in her belly, while a little dizzy, I returned from a wonderful state of unconsciousness. But I was not satisfied, much less. After a quick search, I wore her white blouse to wipe the fucking remnants, and a few minutes later, ready again, I resumed our night. So this time I was able to enjoy every sensation of what it was like to eat it in many ways, in many positions, without the risk of an imminent instant orgasm. When our night came near the end, I was exhausted. Camila seemed about to sleep at any moment, and when she realized that, she hurried to her feet and headed for the bathroom, looking for a shower. When I heard the shower being turned on, not knowing very well whether my sudden idea would be welcome or not, I went to join her under the warm shower. As she again became receptive to me, we had sex again, and I wondered if she would be able to stop it if she never denied it. Probably not. *** When we got back to the bedroom, I put on my gray pants and my top and noticed her clothes - both the blouse and the panties and shorts. - were in a state of public calamity. She seemed to understand this before me, and was mumbling, already sleepy, to her side of the bed, letting herself fall there and covering herself with the sheet, not bothering to wear anything. I smiled at her grumpy personality I had never met, so I left it in the laundry basket to wash the three pieces of soaked clothes and went to join her in bed. Already almost unconscious, I clung to his body automatically, and feeling a trace of the perfume that, I suspected, would one day be the home of my death, I began to feel an erection beginning again. I laughed at my own inappropriate reaction, though involuntary, I contented myself with the fact that it was not my fault, it was my fault. Just like everything I've felt lately. My fears, my out of control, my nervousness, my joy. It was her fault.
