Eat For Two

Cammy Likes to Laugh

Dedicated to: Mystique_Scarlet for the kick-ass cover she made me!!! (Insert dramatic fanfare) Give her some love people :D

A/N: As noted above, I have a lovely new cover :D, but that is not the only thing new readers! That's right, new chapter right here! Ahem, I apologize for the cheesyiness, but I love cheese. Muenster is my favorite. Okay, okay I get it, sorry I'll stop now...maybe. Anywhoo my dears, please enjoy this new installment of Eat For Two.

P.S. Another thing new (in all seriousness) is that I changed the cast list a bit. Cameron is now the smexyily gorgeous hunk of man Dean Sibrizzi (Kevin Zegers is hot and all, but he just didnt fit...a bit too boy-next-door i think) and Izzy (who you will meet soon *hint hint*) is now Rachel McAdams when she had short blonde and pink streaked hair rather than who she was before (is it bad I don't remember? Anna Paquin? :O) 

HEEEYYYY GUUUYYYYSSS Guess what? I got my first death threat for disapearing of the face of the earth and not updating! By none other than Mystique_Scarlet (seriously check her out)!!!!! But its all good, and you want to know why (other than i cannot die because apparently I have no soul)? Well im telling you anyway! It means people (at least "person") love my story! Seriously though its kinda a bit of an esteem booster...

I apologize greatly on my behalf of not fulfilling my promise of updating Eat For Two, ahem, two weeks ago but (oh dear here come the plethora of excuses) i was sick, had lots of homework, normal work, had a bit of writers bock... 

I know i had something else important (relatively) to tell you...AH! Eureka! I would like (pretty pretty please) some critiques this chapter, so i can improve my writing ability. Anything from fluency, word choice, dialogue, etc etc etc. (I figured I'd bold it in hopes more people will see this.)

Now onto the story!!!!!!

Peace out cubscouts

Chapter 7: Cammy Likes to Laugh

             Mr. I Have No Flaws keeps staring at me. We are in complete silence, but his unnerving eyes just won’t leave my reddened face. My spine has not yet grown enough to hold his gaze, so instead of focusing on his clear amber eyes, I look a little higher at a curious, faint, half an inch white line running down his right brow. The scar is crooked. Warped in appearance, as if he twisted his head at the last second and whatever was cutting him slipped. I can’t help but to wonder what caused this miniscule scar. I can’t help but to wonder what other scars he has.

                A small smile expands across his face, as he reaches out a large hand, slightly darkened by the unfortunes of working in a garage. My child sized hand becomes completely enveloped when I reach out and take his fingertip calloused hand. His warm hand effectively becomes all my brain can process.

                “Hey, so my uncle told me you were having car problems?” Unfortunately, my brain short circuits at the combination of his hand I’m still gripping, the deep timbre of his voice, and my raging pregnancy hormones, causing my usually tightly sealed and unforgiving lips to open and let out very idiotic:

                “Do you play guitar? Because you have calluses on your fingertips and people that have calluses on their fingertips usually play guitar. I’ve always wanted to play guitar. Maybe I can learn now. You know I think I will, then I can play for my ba—” And this dears is why I never talk to boys, especially ones who hotness could compete with Death Valley. But luckily before my word vomit continues and I reveal something extremely personal, the dulling of his citrine eyes and the tightening of his mouth, as he bites out a sharp no, stops me.

                “Oh sorry, I just thought…” And the mouse is back.

                “It’s fine.” But his voice tells it clearly is not. I do, however, have enough tact to leave it be. Clearly he is still upset, judging by the slight tick in his jaw and the way his eyes are distant, as if he is reliving a memory. The sand begins to burn under my feet, from my standstill and having shed my flip flops upon arrival, and its beginning to get late and I still have to navigate my way to Izzy’s, so I gently prompt him from his reverie.