I jerk awake, shivering. I can't believe Camila and I watched that scary movie. She knows that my imagination likes to run wild; the last time I watched IT I couldn't sleep for days. I wipe the sweat off my forehead and glance around. The bedroom is lit from the moonlight streaming through the glass window. It reminds me of my nightmare. Camila and I were in bed with the full moon over us and the next thing I know, the door creaks open. A bloody hand was sitting on the wooden floor and it launched upwards, ready to attack us.
Someone touches my arm and I scream. This is the end. This is how I am going to die.
"Y/N?" It's Camila. "What's wrong?"
She turns on the lamp beside our bed and faces me. Her beautiful brown eyes are filled with concern and even though it's 2 a.m. she looks as gorgeous as ever. I swallow and look at our bedroom door. Thankfully nothing appears.
"Nightmare," I say.
My girlfriend rubs her eyes. She's exhausted; she came back from her tour only a few days ago. I start to feel guilty. She should be resting.
"I'll be okay. Just try to get some more sleep... I'm sorry for waking you up..."
Before I can turn lamp off, Camila pulls me into a hug, "Hey, don't feel guilty... I'm right here no matter what, sweetheart."
She kisses me on the forehead and holds onto me until I fall asleep.
