Shutter ➳ Camren

Chapter Twenty Two

All rights go to original author.

________________________________________________________________

I watch, flabbergasted, as Lauren goes downstairs to deal with Luke. This is better than expected, fuck really I didn't even know what I was expecting when I came here. I just wanted to say my piece and maybe hoping that she'd understand. So I guess yeah, I was clinging into the hope that at least she'd forgive me.

I can't help the smile on my face as I let myself in the apartment. Luke's right, if I'm just brave enough I'll be fine with Lo tonight. Eight hours ago I thought we'd break up and now I'm in her flat staying the night. I feel a bit jittery to be honest. Maybe because although we're generally fine now, we both know we still both have to talk it through.

I sat on the couch and took my cigarettes and lighter out, lighting one for myself. I close my eyes as I inhale, letting the chemicals in and blew it off, making me feel better. I feel my phone go off and I reach under the coffee table to retrieve the ashtray I know that's in there and rested my fag over it before taking the phone off my jeans pocket. It's a message from Luke.

'Fuck yeah Mila, details later... ;)'

I roll my eyes and smirk, hastily typing a reply.

'Thanks Lukey. And don't text while you're driving! xC'

"What's so funny?"

I look up as I hit send. "Oh, just Luke," I answer and laid my phone on the table. Lauren comes over and takes a seat beside me, our knees touching.

"What he said?"

"Uhm... 'fuck yeah Mila, details later.' And then a winking face."

Lauren giggles and my stomach flutters. She sees the cigarette on the table and takes it. "You don't mind?"

"Not at all."

She smiles and took a drag, tipping her head back to blow the smoke and I'm awarded with the magnificent view of her porcelain neck. I just want to lean over and taste it. But I didn't, because I don't think I won back the right to do that yet.

"So." she says, tucking her feet under her and stretching her arm on the back of the sofa, her hand finds a strand of my hair. She twirls it around her fingers.

"So..." I drag out, rubbing my hands on the fabric of my jeans. She looks at me with a smirk. "What's so funny?"

"You."

"Oh, thanks."

She giggles again. "No, I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at you."

"Are you drunk or something?"

"No, that's you. That's why I'm laughing at you."

I tip my head back in disappointment. "Ah fuck, I thought you wouldn't notice."

"Your words were slurring a bit."

"That is kind of true."

Her hand leaves the strand of my hair and caresses the back of my neck. I briefly closed my eyes at the contact. She brings the fag to me and I take it between my lips, inhaling deeply. I puff the thick cloud of smoke as she takes a drag herself before she stubs the butt on the ashtray then lights another one, managing not to take her hand away from me. We both lean on our sides and stare at each other. She strokes her hand softly over my hair and I quiver at the touch. "You have got to stop doing that."

"What, this?" she says and tugs at my hair, making my breathing hitch a little.

"Yes, that." She offers me the stick and I gladly took it.