little do you know ⍟ camila cabello

i'm only a fool for you

"Babe," Y/N says empathetically. "You need to sit the fuck down." Y/N pushes her girlfriend's shoulders down so that she's sitting down on her bed again.

"I need to go to class," Camila insists, fumbling with the covers that she refuses to let Y/N put her in. Y/N only glares at the Latina, mumbling some incoherent curse words under her breath.

"What you need is to lay the fuck down and sleep," she warns her girlfriend, having enough already of her stubborn attitude. Camila shakes her head, and Y/N has never wanted to physically harm her girlfriend more than in that moment.

Camila's sick. She's been sick for the past four days now, and while normally Camila is this quite literal ray of sunshine with a dash of adorable charm, she's being stubborn. She's being really stubborn.

Y/N has this policy of never harming the ill, but Camila is testing her patience. Camila has been testing her girlfriend's patience for days now.

Needless to say, Y/N is annoyed but that's mainly because she hates taking care of people. It's not that she's selfish or anything, it just makes her feel utterly useless. Honestly, the blue-eyed girl has no idea what she is doing half the time. She's pretty sure she gave Camila the wrong medicine, and who does that? Y/N-fucking-Y/L/N, that's who.

Y/N doesn't even know how to take care of herself, let alone another life.

So, yeah, maybe she's freaking out a little bit. But she tries to hide it from Camila of course. The Cuban doesn't need to see the kind of disaster Y/N is when Camila's sick because then the brunette will just run herself into the ground even more.

"You're sick," Y/N says, her fingers tightening their grip on her girlfriend's shoulders.

"I feel fine," Camila retorts and tries to snort but it comes out sounding like a particularly deadly wheeze. Her nose is twitching kind of cutely as she says it too. That's really the only thing that's cute about Camila right now; everything else is a mess.

She's a mess.

The Latina's eyes are puffy and her cheeks are swollen. There's this purplish, green colour that's been gathering under her eyes for the last couple of days. Her hair is sticking up in matted tufts on the top of her head and on her neck, and her nose is this constant current that leaks like a dripping tap everywhere. No joke, it's one of the most disgusting things Y/N has ever experienced in her life. Camila looks weak and utterly useless and seeing her like this, when Y/N is used to the steadfast, persistently independent girl that captured her heart, well, it's weird. She doesn't like it one bit.

Y/N wants her girlfriend to get better so the brunette can stop feeling like shit as much as she wants Camila to get better so she'll stop feeling so damn uncomfortable. Does that make her a bad girlfriend?

Probably.

"It's been two days," Camila whines. "I've missed so much. I need to write assignments and complete homewo-" she argues, her inner nerd sprouting once again until she gets cut off. The Cuban breaks off into a deathly sounding cough, and yeah, no, if this kid thinks she's getting out of this bed today, she is sadly very, very mistaken.

"No," Y/N reassures her. "You don't." Y/N knows that she's not exactly the most maternal person out there. She knows Camila would be better off with a girlfriend that would've made her some ridiculous homemade soup, or one that would've known what the hell she was doing. But Camila's stuck with Y/N, and the best she's been able to do thus far is change her sheets when they get too sweaty or when she gets puke on them. Which she doesn't even remember because she passes out for most of the time.

The things Y/N does for this ball of adorableness.

But really, the least Y/N can do after all Camila does for her, after all, she continues to do for her, is do Camila's damn homework.

Camila will no doubt be thoroughly pissed off when she finds out that Y/N spent her free time doing the Latina's homework instead of her own, but whatever, it's worth it not to see Camila fall behind classes, and now Y/N won't have to hear her girlfriend whine about it.

It's really a win-win situation.

Probably more like a win-lose, but whatever. Y/N's allowed to lie to herself here, okay?

---

"Y/N," Camila whined from the couch in front of the TV in the lounge room as she lets out a disjointed, disgusting cough afterward.

"Yeah?" Y/N calls from her spot at the kitchen island, where she is quietly working on her girlfriend's homework and assignment.

"Can you get me a banana?" Camila groggily asks, her eyelids falling back as she tries to fight off the sleep wanting to overtake her exhausted body.

"Get it yourself, Canola."

It takes many grunts and fifteen minutes to pass for Y/N to realize that the tanned brunette can't-do it. The reason being, she is cocooned in her blankets and her fever is so high that just hours before, Y/N was contemplating sending her to a hospital.

She may or may not be a horrible person.

---

"Y/N/N." Y/N looks up from where she is typing up another one of her girlfriend's assignment. She has no idea what the hell she's doing. She's walking into a situation completely blind and hoping for the best, which you know, the best rarely happens with her, unless you count her girlfriend, but oh well, maybe she's just hoping someday or maybe she's just reckless- what the hell is she writing again?

"What is it, Cami?" Y/N asks from the other side of the room where she is seated on the single couch to Camila who is wrapped up like a burrito on the L-shaped couch.

"Don't feel good," the brown-eyed girl mutters. Her face is scrunching up in discomfort, and it makes Y/N quickly discard her laptop so she can walk over to her girlfriend. It's weird taking care of her, and even though she doesn't enjoy it, it doesn't mean she likes seeing her like this. It sits wrong with Y/N, turning something inside her belly that she doesn't like.

Y/N has never been good with words, not even when she was a child. Her words are either too harsh or too brash, cut too deep or don't cut deep enough, and this time is no different. She's not sure what to say, she's never sure what to say, especially now. The blue-eyed girl is much too afraid that her words will come across insincere if she tried to vocalize what she's feeling.

So, she doesn't try to.

Camila will understand. She always understands.

When Y/N is close enough, she reaches out her fingers to spread across Camila's forehead gently. It's sticky and hot and it makes that clenching feeling come back in Y/N's chest again. The only reason she doesn't pull away her hand is that she can feel Camila arching her head into her touch.

Before Y/N can talk herself out of it, she climbs onto the couch with her sick girlfriend, cuddling up behind her and running her fingers down Camila's back in an effort to comfort her.

"Y/N/N," Camila grunts almost painfully, and turns her head to look over to her girlfriend. The move looks aching and Y/N has to resist the urge to slap her girlfriend because of it.

"Go to sleep," The blue-eyed girl mumbles, placing a chaste kiss on Camila's cheek.

"You're going to get sick," she mumbles, slightly incoherently. Y/N smiles widely against the back of Camila's shirt.

"Don't care," she mumbles. Camila doesn't say anything after that, but her posture relaxes finally.

Y/N doesn't mean to, but she finds herself falling asleep soon too.

---

i have the biggest headache in the fcking world and i have so much work to do and assignments and procrastinating and complaining. i dont know how im going to get everything done...

but hope u enjoyed this fluff^