Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere (Camren Fanfic)

Chapter 6

Camila woke up with a contented sigh, having slept rather peacefully - which is strange, considering she doesn't much take to places she hasn't adjusted to, and that usually doesn't happen until about a month of habitation. Not that she's complaining. She'd much prefer getting some well needed rest as opposed to pacing the room for three fourths of the night only to lye down and stare at the ceiling until she's bored to sleep.

She shrugs, deciding it probably isn't wise to question a good thing, and extends both of her arms to stretch. She nearly jumps out of her skin when her hand makes contact with something she's quite certain she's not supposed to be touching. That's when she notices how close Lauren is to her, how overwhelming the proximity is and she's finding it hard to breathe again, because Lauren's right there and her eyes are open now and she probably thinks Camila was trying to touch her boob when really -

"Mm, frisky in the mornings, aren't you?" And Camila's glad she's lying down because Lauren's morning voice, thick with husk and tantalizingly raspy, would have brought her to her knees had she been standing. God, could she get any more attractive?

And, because, as she's know starting to realize, the universe has totally got it out for her, Camila's question is answered in the form of a sleepy-eyed Lauren, her bra clad breasts poking out from beneath the sheets. And there's skin. So. Much. Skin.

How is she supposed to concentrate on anything when Lauren's laying next to her, nearly exposed, her hot breathe tickling the nape of Camila's neck? How is she supposed to respond when all she can think about is touching that skin, running her fingers over its smoothness and savoring the sensation? How is she supposed to find it in her to even be somewhat coherent when Lauren's looking at her so alluringly, her breasts pushed together teasingly as she lays on her side, shifting closer to Camila with each passing second? Oh God, she's getting closer, and she still has that look in her eyes like she wants to ravage the other girl, and Camila's certain by now that she's trying to distract her with her boobs because they look so damn enticing squished together, an inch away from Camila's face.

She's staring. She's aware of that. But she can't stop. She can't stop because her eyes are too entranced by the exposure of her skin and all her mind can think is touch, touch, touch, and the remainder of her willpower is being focused on disobeying that command and she just can't stop, okay? Lauren's beautiful. Every single last inch of her. And it's completely natural for her eyes to want to drink in such a fantastic sight, to savor it and possibly put it away for use some other day.

Put it away for use? Jesus Christ, what the hell is she thinking? Two weeks with this girl and she's already becoming the equivalent to horny teenage boy, practically drooling in her presence and having to combat an imaginary boner at her... powerful diction choices.

This has got to stop.

"I-I, um... I-I was j-just..." She stutters, reluctantly tearing her gaze from the perfect breasts in plain view and forcing them to stay on those hypnotizing green hues - which isn't really helping her resolve either, by the way.

"Staring at my chest?"

Camila feels her jaw slacken, her cheeks freshly coated with a dark pink shade of embarrassment. She knew she was staring, but she had no idea Lauren was keen to this as well. Actually, it makes sense, considering she was openly ogling the other girl's tits in quite a blatant manner, but she hadn't allowed herself to think of the repercussions while she was lost in Lauren world. Still, the realization of it makes her want to cover her face with the blanket and be swallowed whole into the ground.

"No! Well... y-yes... but I-I didn't... I mean I wasn't -"

"You're cute."

The compliment completely takes Camila by surprise. Did Lauren Jauregui, the living embodiment of an actual badass, really just call her cute? Her, Camila Cabello, the quiet girl who eats lunch alone and spends all of her spare time reading fiction?