You and Me, Forever

Still In You [3]

Here's da last part of Still In You I promised

Disclaimer: THIS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME.

This is a converted imagine off of Tumblr. All credit goes to owner/ writer.

This da link of the original imagine: https://shawnjpeg.tumblr.com/post/613669788827418625/still-into-you-2

(Mila is the name of Camila's friends BTWS.)

***

The alarm tone of Apple's is one common to the world – the flag bearer for distress and anxiety, disgust and pain. So, when the first blare of it startles the quiet of their sleep, Camila jolts awake, reaches her hand out and expertly switches it off on her phone.

Her hair piles over her face. And as she groans, flipping back over to face the wall, she remembers the small task for which this alarm was set for. Her hand slaps down, effectively finding Shawn wedged between her and the wall. His t-shirt creases, thin white fabric scrunching quickly. "Shawn," she mumbles, a sigh floating from her and resting into the early morning, warmed with light rays trying to slip past her thick curtains, ruin their sleep.

Shawn doesn't budge, too consumed with the bliss. Camila presses her hands into his hot back, pushes against it with whatever little strength the morning gives her to wake him up. A groan erupts from him, his shoulders curling into himself as she tilts his head back.

Camila mumbles something incoherent, her mind, too, unable to remember what she wanted to say. Moving closer to him, she moves a hand up his spine and rests it in his hair. Scratching there, she scoops it down and rests it on his cheek. Her fingers stroke his rosy cheeks absentmindedly. "Hmm, gotta wake up –Shawn."

After much grunting, he raises a hand and holds hers that's on the cheek. Acknowledging her presence more vividly, he lets out an unholy string of words. Turning onto his other side, he pushes at Camila's waist.

At this, she arches her back, stretching a little. Understanding his nudge, she grumbles, turning around, stiffly, taking a few shifts to do so. When she's done, Shawn's arm wraps around her waist tightly, palm to her belly. Camila scoots back, not willing to escape any warmth the blankets coddling her provide. And the man behind her.

The rustles disturb the sleep they both try to catch once more. But then Shawn's lips are at her shoulder and there's absolutely no way she's going to sleep now.

Morning cups of coffee are forgotten, her energy spiked with his touch. It baffles her as to how they got through the entire without cuddling and now when they're awake, he's decided to make such a move.

When his leg nudges her knees apart, allowing his calf to wrap around her shin, Camila thinks she understands. Darkened by sleep doesn't allow them to cherish this moment. But fogged with little touches of slumber lets them revel in this calming moment – but still give them an out if they needed. I was sleepy, they would've argued.

They don't want to let go. The cloud they're in right now is exactly they'd ever want. To wake up with mornings like this. Camila endlessly questioned the joy in waking up next to a loved one – wondered what could be so extraordinary that you waste a few precious minutes of your morning just to let it sink in. And why it's a feeling people quote they, 'Can't get used to.'

Now, with him breathing peacefully behind her, have him hold her like she's all his – as if all he's known is to be her love. . Camila kinda, somewhat getsit. And, fuck, she'd be lying to say she doesn't vibewith it.

Nevertheless, blistered is her wonder with the replay of the alarm. Shit, she didn't hit Stop. Not an expert after all.

Just as her hand stretches out to get it, Shawn's head is digging into her back, curls teasing the sliver of the back of her neck. "S-uu-u-uk-i-i," he complains. His nose pressed into her back next and finally his lips do. She hits Stop. He puckers his lips and presses a kiss right above her bra strap.