Blame It On Bad Luck (Camren)

Chapter 14

"What are you making?" she asked over the sound of music coming from her iPod, startling the small brunette. She jumped back from the stove only to be met with an amused smile and green eyes. She reached to shut her music off. "Didn't mean to scare you. Actually that's a lie; I was hoping I would."

"Ass."

"Loser."

"I didn't think you'd be home so early. I kind of thought you'd just be out all night or something," she said, turning back to the stove while hoping she didn't sound too awkward. Lauren had to have known what she was suspecting though; she wasn't exactly the most trustworthy person. She folded her arms and leaned against the wall.

"Nope, Lucy had some homework she needed to get done so we all kind of parted ways and...well...here I am." Camila nodded and continued to stir something in the pot in front of her, feeling Lauren's eyes on her the whole time. "Were you expecting someone?" she asked, noting the amount of food she seemed to be making. She wouldn't admit she worried about her roommate out loud, but she found herself wondering on more than one occasion if she would stupidly go back to her ex ever since they broke up.

"No," she told her honestly, much to Lauren's relief. "I was bored when I came back from yoga and thought that I'd make enough for whenever you came home in case you were hungry."

"Really?" she asked, earning a nod in return. Camila added salt to the pot while Lauren continued to watch her, somewhat fascinated by the girl. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"Are you okay?" Camila was slightly taken aback by her question; Lauren never asked anything that had the potential to warrant some type of long emotional response unless she was drunk or felt guilty or something.

"I'm fine, why?"

"Nothing, you seem a little down is all."

"I'm fine," she repeated in the same soft tone and Lauren shifted on her feet, deciding to just let it go. "Do you want to help?" she asked randomly. "Cooking or baking is another thing I like to do to keep me busy, if you want to learn something."

"Are you saying I can't cook?"

"I know you can't. Throwing leftover French fries into an omelet doesn't really count." Lauren laughed quietly, shaking her head and resisting the urge to make some dumb comeback. She knew she couldn't cook for shit. "So do you want to give me a hand?"

"You're not gonna force me?" she asked, sort of jokingly. There was always a part of Lauren that felt tense with...not exactly resentment...towards her roommate, but she did technically have the upper hand. And no matter how many times she assured her she only genuinely wanted to help, Lauren couldn't help but feel that Camila was in control of everything. It was something she was absolutely not used to and hated more than she'd care to explain and she almost loathed that the nagging feeling wouldn't leave her alone despite growing somewhat fond of the small brunette. Camila furrowed her brows while turning away from the pot to face her.

"No?" Her voice was laced with clear confusion, which Lauren actually understood. Because after a certain point she had made it clear—multiple times, even—to Lauren that she always had a choice. She hated feeling like the green eyed girl saw her in a negative light just because she technically did have the power to kind of, sort of, ruin her life—so to speak—if she ever felt like it. She regretted giving the girl an ultimatum to begin with but she hoped she would have realized she was being sincere. Lauren pushed herself off the wall and looked over Camila's shoulder at what appeared to be a pot of pasta sauce. She shut the heat off and turned around again, not realizing how close the girl had gotten.