Shutter ➳ Camren

Chapter Seven

All rights go to original author.

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I leaned back on my motorcycle at the lot in front of Camila's building ,hanging my head down, staring at my red era Vans shoes. They're as beaten as my black pair. Same as the blue, yellow, green, and purple pairs back home. I took my hand from where it's stuffed on my high waisted jeans pocket and checked the time on my watch. 8:40. I huffed and rested my arm on the handlebars of my motorcycle. I arrived quite early and I've been standing here for ten minutes already, debating whether I should go up to Camila's apartment or stay here until 9am before doing so. I guess I was looking forward to this date so much I arrived 30 minutes early. Oh well, the hearts wants what the heart wants.

I didn't want to scare Camila away by looking overly eager and decided to stay here and kill some time. I pulled up my flannel, tug on my beanie and walked back and forth on the pavement, humming Skinny Love to myself. I must have walked at least ten laps around my little circle before I stopped, trailing my head up at Camila's building. It's a high rise building, maybe at least twenty floors high, the glass walls are gleaming on the sunlight. My apartment building's not as impressive as this one and I wonder if the rent's even close at what I'm paying at mine. Not that I would like to leave my apartment to live closer to Camila. Hmm... that's an idea worth considering.

I peeled my eyes away from the establishment and looked over at my motorcycle. I find myself grinning. I washed and polished it yesterday and it's now looking impressive with how shiny it is. Of course it's supposed to look good with my date. I didn't entirely consider the fact that Camila might refuse to ride the motorcycle with me though, the thought only occurring to me now. What if she refused? Fuck, well we can always use her car but that would not look good when she's driving on a date I planned. Oh, fuck it. There's only way to find out.

I took my backpack and slung it on my back as I made my way inside the building, the attendant asking me on the entrance what's my business. I told him I'm going on the seventh floor for Camila Cabello. He let me go and I made my way to the elevators and rode silently alone up six floors. I find myself getting nervous. Fucking hell Lauren, get yourself together now. You don't get nervous, yeah? I checked my reflection on the elevator doors, making sure I look nice.

The doors opened seconds later with a ding and I walked on the carpeted hallway to apartment number 712. I took deep calming breaths, checked my watch once again to see its thirteen minutes before 9am and pressed the door bell on the right side of the door. I stepped back and waited for Camila to answer. I darted my eyes around to calm my poor heart. Damn it, alright stop fidgeting and keep your cool.

The door opened ten seconds later and Camila's standing in front of me with a black bathrobe on while her still- wet hair hung loose. Shit, too early.

"Hi, God sorry. Am I too early?" I apologized. Camila's eyes travelled over me, staring down then up to meet my eyes. She smiled moments later. I smiled back at her, feeling my palms get sweaty.

"Hey, no I guess I'm running late. I got held up on the phone by someone and I had to rush to get ready." She's still breath- taking, especially with wet tousled hair like that. "Come on in," she ushered me, opening the door wider. I move past her and stopped when I'm three steps inside, smelling her freshly soaped skin in the process. I decided it's my new favorite scent. She led me to her living room. "Do you want anything? Tea, coffee perhaps?" Camila asked as I sat down on her red sofa.

"No thanks, I'm good," I smiled politely. There's a hint of tan flesh exposed where the ends of her bathrobe meets. I'm trying to keep my eyes on her face and not travel downward, which I'm finding really difficult. I don't want her to think her date's a perv now, do I?