little do you know ⍟ camila cabello

i've given all my love to you

Y/N loved Camila's voice. Not just the way she sang-although damn if his singing didn't make her pulse race every time she heard it-but the way she spoke, too- whether it was the 'sugar high three-year-old' tone she used when talking about banana's or the reverent, soft voice she spoke in when she was lying next to her.

Y/N loved the way Camila ate bananas- totally focused on the fruit, taking in every bite, but somehow still acutely aware of her reactions. She was always ready to explain random fact about bananas when she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion or to pull her a little closer when she started to get bored at the constant banana talk.

Y/N loved the way she unapologetically geekedout over things, and the way that she kissed her, and the way that she fit kind of perfectly against her side. She loved how the Latina could make her laugh even when she didn't want to, how Camila's inner nerd appeared during exam season and made Y/N a livewire of caffeine and nervous energy, how Camila somehow believed her when she murmured to her in the middle of the night that she wasn't ever going to leave.

She did love Camila. Of course, she did; she loved everything about her. It was stupidly sappy to think of it like that, but what Y/N was starting to realize was that it was also all real. Something that she hadn't believed in for the longest time not only existed but was actually within reach. Now it was just a matter of actually bucking up the courage to find Camila and tell-

Oh, crap.

There was a knock at her door, and before the person even spoke, she knew who it would be. Y/N glared at the ceiling like she was reprimanding whatever cosmic power had just sent her girlfriend this way. Her plan had been to tell Camila after she'd gotten her shit together, not when she was still an emotional clusterfuck.

"Hey, uh, Y/N/N? Can I come in? I need somewhere to hide. Ally's trying to get me to test out some new 'gourmet creation' that involves fire and green stuff, and she's got a knife."

Shit. How was she supposed to just hang out and banter with Camila when those three stupid words were the only things on her mind? Seriously, all the Latina had done was speak a sentence or two and now her heart was thudding against her ribcage and her palms had gone sweaty, and oh, this was just not good.

Unfortunately, telepathically willing her to disappear wasn't particularly effective, since Camila was still waiting by the door. She knocked again. "Y/N?"

Well, fuck it, Y/N told herself. If she was going to go out this way, she might as well get it over with. She ran a hand through her hair and crossed over to the door, throwing it open before she could lose her nerve.

"Hi," she said a little breathlessly. "Sorry; I sort of zoned out for a second. Come on in."

Camila waved off her apology and stepped into the room, taking her usual perch on Y/N's bed and looking totally at ease while Y/N envied Camila's relaxed demeanour more than she ever had before. She couldn't bring herself to sit next to the Latina on the bed like she usually did, though, so instead, she sat in the nearest chair, tapping her foot nervously.

Camila, who had been expecting her to take a seat next to her, looked somewhere between surprised and affronted that she'd chosen the chair instead. Y/N would have found it nothing short of adorable had her mind not been totally preoccupied.

She was so preoccupied, in fact, that she wasn't saying a word- she just looked anxious and didn't keep her eyes on Camila for more than a second at a time. The Cuban decided to test the waters by pretending this was normal and starting banter like she usually did.

"So... are your pants from out of space? Because your butt is out of this world."

Y/N didn't respond- though, in her defense, she didn't actually hear Camila, but instead continued to stare intently at a spot on the floor, still tapping her foot.