Not Just One Night

Chapter 16

Camila's POV

"Can I ask you something Lauren?" She hums in response and with my chest pressed to her ribs, I can feel her body vibrate.

We had stopped dancing hours earlier, and had migrated to her room and to her bed, although there was nothing sexual about tonight and that was established not long after I arrived at Lauren's apartment. It was a relief really. I like being with Lauren this way.

The music was still playing but quietly from the nightstand. Matt Healy's voice rang out, and I barely spoke over it. "Why did you never ask me what my favorite book was?" Remembering it was one of the first things Shay and I had talked about. I hated the feeling like a complete stranger had thought to ask me more than she had over two weeks.

Lauren rolled her head over, her tangled curls spreading out over the pillow case. Her eyes danced from mine to the clock on the nightstand, to the duvet pulled up to her chest, and then back to me. I said earlier that it bothered me how there were times when she wouldn't hold eye contact, but now I'm realizing I don't really mind. I like the way that they look around, because it reminds me that there's more than just us here, and some times I need a reminder that we're not the only two that exist.

She smiles, lifting her hand, and running the back of it across my cheek. She whispers, "I didn't need to ask Camila. I already know."

I knit my eyebrows together, "How?" I had never said. I've read several books since I've met her but none of them were my actual favorite.

She softly laughs, "Because. You have four copies of The Perks of Being a Wallflower in your bookcase," she says as if it's the most obvious thing.

I argue, "Yeah but I also have three of the Notebook, and two of the Hunger Games."

She shook her head, pulling her hand away from my face and lying it flat on her chest. The steadiness of her breathing lifted it and settled it. "I know that, but one night you were over here and you thought I was asleep and you snuck out of bed and over to the shelf," she points behind us. "and you scoured through the hundreds of titles until you found my copy, and you pulled it out and sat down on the floor next to the window. Your legs were folded up beneath you, and your back resting against the wall, and as the rain hit the window, and each drop racing down, you read aloud quietly, and it was barely above a whisper but I stilled my breathing enough, so that I could hear every word that you said. It was the part where he was talking about the seasons."

I nodded my head, reciting the very line she was referring to, "I don't even remember the season. I just remember walking between them and feeling for the first time that I belonged somewhere." Sometimes I wouldn't even read the book over, just flip to my favorite parts.

"Yeah, that's the one," she whispers. "And you read that aloud and you smiled like you had forgotten that certain part of the story, and I remember thinking that the excitement on your face, was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen." She bites on her bottom lip, looking up toward the ceiling, studying the fan as it rotates above us. "Why do you think I ask you to read to me all of the time?"

I shrug my shoulders as she looks quickly, searching for my eyes, and when I offer them to her, she smiles then turns away. "I could have read the story a thousand times, and it would never feel as monumental as the words do when they come out of your mouth."

I hadn't given Lauren clearly enough credit. My eyes glass over at her confession, and upon seeing the tears threatening to spill, she turns in the bed wrapping her arm around my waist, drawing me closer. She leans forward and against my lips, she mumbles, "Camila, sometimes I don't ask questions, because I already know the answer to them." She sighs heavily and her warmth breath brushes against my mouth, "No, I might not know all of your hopes and your fears, and where you see yourself in the future, but I'm not worried, because those things I can learn. The most important thing, I think is that you don't feel like a stranger to me." She pushes away a strand of hair that has fallen from my eyes and tucks it behind my ear. I lean into her touch, craving some physical contact so that I won't absolutely explode from the words that she's saying. "They may seem small, and unimportant, but I know things about you that not even two weeks should allow." Her voice shakes as it drops to almost inaudible.