The art of being a beard (Camila/You)

Chapter 12

Narrator's POV

They should really be discussing what they were, but... were they ready to have that conversation yet? It could possibly ruin everything they have going even though it's only been going on for a couple of hours. 

But point is, were they ready to ruin that little something for this inevitable talk?

Nope. The answer is no. 

And certainly not right before a fricking dinner with Y/N's family. It would for sure make things awkward afterward, so yeah, no. That talk was definitely not happening right now. 

But then again, that didn't mean they shouldn't be talking to each other at all. Ever since they stepped into the car, they haven't spoken a single word to each other. It was such a huge contrast to just barely a half-hour ago, when they couldn't stop screaming each other's names and whatever else. Now the silence is deafening. 

Y/N drummed on the steering wheel. "So... how you feeling?"

Camila glanced over at her and bit on her lip. "I'm fine, I guess. You?"

"Same," the novelist mumbled. It was just a straight road right in front of her, so she removed one of her hands from the wheel to put it on Camila's lap. Her palm was facing upwards, waiting for the older girl to place hers into it. 

The brunette stared at it for a while before placing her hand in hers, intertwining their fingers. She then looked over at Y/N again and saw a discreet smile creeping onto her lips. She couldn't help her own smile growing because of that. 

The rest of the car ride still remained silent, but somehow, this simple, little gesture made it feel like all was fine between them again. 

-

"Okay, you know what, I'm nervous," Y/N announced as she rubbed her hands on her pants, trying to stop them from sweating. She hasn't seen her family in a while now, and now she's even bringing her 'girlfriend' along with her.

Why in the world did she agree to this? What was she even thinking?

Camila sensed her unease and grabbed the novelist's hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. This has kinda become their thing, whenever the Y/E/C-eyed girl's feeling nervous, Camila would just squeeze her hand a little and suddenly half of the weight is taken off her shoulders.

It was weird, really. But it works.

Y/N looked at her unsure before placing a hesitant kiss on her lips. Was she even allowed to do this? She didn't know. But by Camila's blushing cheeks, she could tell she didn't fuck anything up.

"Alright, here goes nothing," the novelist muttered under her breath before ringing the doorbell.

Not even a second later, the door swung open and on the other side was mama Y/L/N. "Hi, honey, come on in."

Once Y/N was passed the door, her mother immediately fixed all her attention to Camila. "Hello, darling. It's so nice to meet you," she said, pulling the brunette in a hug.

Since Camila was a hugger anyway, she didn't mind it at all. "Likewise, Mrs. Y/L/N."

Y/N's mother pulled away again to get a proper look of her daughter's girlfriend. "You are so beautiful," she complimented before turning to look at Y/N. "You are one lucky ass fucker. You better not lose her."

The novelist let out a chuckle. "Yes, mom."

Suddenly, the sound of something overflowing was heard. "Shit, I forgot to turn off the tap," mama Y/L/N said before sprinting back to the kitchen.