Your Love Is My Drug (Camren)

8. Read All About It

Chapter 8

Lauren stayed awake with Camila for hours. The only time she left her was to use the bathroom and grab the blanket she'd used when she stayed before. Her body was warm where she'd been pressed against Camila but half of it was the uncomfortable sort of cool where it began to disjoint her thoughts. So, not wanting to wake Camila and tell her to get under the covers, she'd made sure the blanket covered both of them. She couldn't help but notice it'd been washed. It smelled like Camila again. It was nice, comforting.

As considerate as Lauren tried to be, Camila ended up waking half a dozen times.

Lauren thought it was unrelated to anything she'd done herself because sometimes she wouldn't move at all; her arm and hand would be still against Camila, lost in thought, and she'd hear the even breaths change or feel the way Camila's body was twitchy like she'd woken from a bad dream or something like that.

The only time Lauren felt there was any need to make a sound was the first time Camila woke with a slow intake of breath, stiffening when she felt a warm body in bed next to her. "It's me," she'd said quietly, her fingers skating lazily over Camila's hand.

Maybe Camila woke so many times because of impatience; checking if she was alone yet, or maybe it was normal for her sleep to be disturbed. Either way, Lauren would have bet a lot of money on the fact that Camila's mood the next day would be sour and full of regret. But if Camila felt that way, there had been no outward signs to pick up on.

Lauren had woken to a bright bedroom and an empty bed.

It wasn't much later than she'd usually wake up but it'd taken an extra couple of minutes to shake sleep's hold. As promised, Camila was at the kitchen table with two bowls of cereal, looking out of the window as she held a mug of tea with both hands. She didn't notice Lauren right away, so she missed the way her eyes lingered, admiring in the way that can only be done properly when a person is unaware.

And Lauren thought that word was terribly fitting for a girl like Camila.

She was spotted eventually, though.

"Sleepyhead."

"It's not that late."

Camila's eyes followed Lauren all the way to the table, until she was sat opposite. "No, the hair," she said, looking mildly pleased with herself when Lauren pouted unhappily and brought a hand up to tame her hair.

"How's your head?" Lauren asked.

"Still attached."

There was no longer a swollen lump to Camila's face, not even a mark, but it had hit the floor in a way that Lauren winced to think about. "How is your head?" she asked again, patiently.

"My head is just fine; however, the egg attached to the back of it is mildly discomforting whenever I apply pressure."

"Have you taken anything?"

It was a loaded question and for a moment Camila was unsure how to respond.

"Of the legal substance variety?" Lauren clarified afterwards.

"Yes."

"Which question was that answer for?"

"You know which one," Camila said softly, pinching some dry cereal between her thumb and two of her fingers, pulling them up to her mouth.

Lauren looked at her like she was begging her not to do it ever again. It wouldn't make a difference if she was to say it out loud, not if the past few weeks had been any indication, but she said it anyway. "I wish you wouldn't."