Are You Gonna Kiss Me?

Chapter - 12

Camila P.O.V:

"Isn't it boring to come here often?"

I hear that low, raspy, under-tone, behind me, recognising it so quickly that it was almost like second nature to me.

I swirl around, missing a whiplash by a thread.

"Lauren." The name slips out even before I could comprehend that I'm saying it.

She chuckles, all low and husky, one of her hands resting on the doorway frame and the other on her hip, bent slightly outward as a result of the position she has chosen to stand in.

Only her silhouette is visible as strangely, there is this warm, incandescent light flowing into the room from the doorway, and also from the windows. I become aware of the fact that we're standing inside the nurse's room.

Why? I have no idea. But, I decide to go with the flow.

Her hand slides down from the doorway frame, making her stand upright, her hips straightening out simultaneously, making the hand resting on it fall elegantly down her sides.

She starts moving towards me, and it's more like a Panther strutting towards its prey rather a human's walk. It's slow, deliberate, dainty, and somehow eerily sensual.

The more distance she covers between us, the more clearly the light from the window illuminates her side and for the first time, I take a good look at her.

Her feet are covered in grey, spool heels, with her legs wrapped up neatly in stockings. A grey skirt-suit's skirt hugs her hips so tightly, yet delicately that it makes my lungs constrict. Her white shirt is precisely tucked-in, with her coat nowhere to be found, sleeves rolled-up a little to allow movement and circulation. But, something in me tells me that the first three buttons on her shirt that are un-done, leaving her collarbone bare and visible, is not for either feasible movement or for air circulation.

I swallow thickly with the clean view of her lithe neck, floodlit by the glow from the window. Her hair, however, is a different story. It contrasts the neatly tucked-in shirt by haphazardly falling down her shoulder, little wisps of it flying to the side as a gentle breeze flows in through the window.

It's imperfectly perfect.

And my mind instantly provides that it's perfect just because, she is perfect.

"Control your eyes, Cabello." I hear her voice again, but this time, closer than ever before. It's neither commanding nor annoyed, but rather sybaritic and playful, with a hint of a raspy-drawl.

My eyes snap to hers almost immediately. Only then, I become hyper-aware of our sudden proximity she has achieved, close enough to notice her lips, accentuated with a thin layer of gloss, forming the subtlest smirk known to man-kind, her nose-ring gleaming in the glow, in-turn with her glazed-over eyes, shining with a rare twinkle.

"Lauren, what-" I begin, but her finger finds my lips in no time.

"Shhhhh . . ." She shushes me softly with her sound barely above a whisper. "Now's not the time to lecture me, Camila . . ." My heart picks up pace with my name falling from her lips, just as her finger cascades down from my lips, immediately flattening her palm out and finding solace against my chest. 

My eyes get drawn towards the said hand as she smoothens her way up to my shoulder. I notice the way her lips fall apart, admiring her own ministrations above my chest.