Perfect lovers (COMPLETED)

43. You must like me for me.

Camille and Candice stormed into the house, all over each other, pulling off clothes as fast as they could. They went into the living room, not letting go of each other. Candice leaned Camille over the long couch and got on top of her, pulling off her own shirt and revealing her lacy bra.

*cough cough*"

"I'm sort of reading here" Charlotte said from the armchair. The two looked at her and blinked. How had they not noticed a whole person sitting there?

Camille smiled at Charlotte guiltily and Candice grinned at her.

"Wanna join?" Candice suggested.

Charlotte looked down at her book, then at the two and thought about it for a second, "no, beat it" she smiled and went back to reading.

Candice pouted and pulled Camille off the couch who stumbled on her feet from the sudden pull. They went upstairs and Charlotte chuckled to herself. Just one more chapter and she would join them after, she told herself.

                                               ~•~

One more chapter and she would join them...

Two hours later...

One more chapter...

Charlotte was still seated on the armchair when Camille cheerfully came downstairs and took a seat next to Charlotte.

"You're still reading... are you hungry? I can make us some sandwiches" she suggested.

"No, not really. But hey, we can drink coco later if you want... and do you wanna watch a movie?" Charlotte looked up at her. She had been ignoring everyone the whole day. It's how she got every time she found a really good book. She was glad the others understood and didn't get annoyed.

"Sure! Can I pick?" Camille perked up.

"Yeah, sure" Charlotte smiled and looked down at the page. Just one more chapter. Camille leaned back on the armchair and started playing with Charlotte's hair. The brunette girl looked up, but didn't mind. It felt nice.

She looked to her side and noticed that Camille was wearing a short tennis skirt. She sighed and went back to her book. Just one more chapter...

"Have you ever tried writing a book?" Camille asked. Charlotte raised her eyebrow at the question.

"Writing one? No..." Charlotte looked down melancholically and sighed, "well, yes, but... never mind, it was a long time ago and doesn't really count as a book..."

"Okay" Camille whispered, "why did you stop writing?"

"I... lost my motivation" Charlotte took a deep breath. She was avoiding Camille's eye.

"What gave you motivation?" Camille asked, getting curious, yet realising that this was a sore subject.

"...more like who"

They stayed quiet for a while. It was horrible silence. Charlotte tried to go back to the words written in her book, but she couldn't focus anymore. All she could think about was her...

"Did you like it?" Camille asked again, very quietly and carefully this time. Charlotte looked at her.

"Like what?"

"Writing"

...

...

"...yes" she closed her eyes, "yeah, I liked it. It was like creating your own world were you felt safe no matter what... turns out facing dragons and evil witches is a lot less scarier than facing real life problems" Charlotte chuckled sadly. How had this conversation turned so melancholic?

"Then you should start writing again" Camille offered a small smile. Charlotte had always loved her smile. It was so warm and honest. As well as innocent and full of love.

"...I can't" Charlotte closed her eyes and leaned back on the armchair.

"Why not?"

"I told you. I lost my motivation" Charlotte opened her eyes again and spoke with a bit of harshness to her tone, but immediately wished to take it back when she saw Camille's worried face.

"Then... you should find a new motivation" Camille offered. She looked hurt, but kept the hopeful tone in her voice. It was hard to make her angry... she only wanted to offer love.

...new motivation...

"What makes you feel the happiest and safest?" Camille asked.

Charlotte didn't have to think about it. She already had the answer and it made her smile. The girl in front of her made her feel like that. So did Isobel and Candice. She always felt safe around them. They could make her worries go away. If she ever wrote again, it would be about them.