Where It Began | ✓

17

17

"SCOTT, GO HOME," Camille requests in a thick and congested voice from under her huge pile of blankets, sniffling every so often. Scott leans against the doorframe, lightly smirking at his girlfriend from where he stands. He thinks about how adorable and small she looks in comparison to her big sweater and several blankets, but at the same time, he feels absolutely terrible that she's sick. When Scott heard that she has a fever, he immediately came over to her house, wanting to take care of his girlfriend like the good and internally punk-less boyfriend that he is.

     "Fuck no," he vulgarly says (okay, so maybe he's still punk-ish), kicking off his black Vans and crawling onto her bed.  After properly situating himself under the blankets (so that only tufts of hair peek out), he lies down and faces Camille, experiencing the overwhelming amount of warmth that radiates from her body. Still, Scott lifts the corner of his lip into another smile and whispers, "Hey, baby."

     "Scott," she groans, trying to shove her boyfriend away, "you're gonna get sick."

"Don't care," he mumbles, wrapping his long arm around Camille's body and pulling her close. She momentarily flinches at the cold touch of his rings but soon warms up to it. And after that, she simply succumbs to her wishes and cuddles up against her boyfriend, both of them completely disregarding the fact that he can get sick. Whatever. Scott just guides her head to the crook of his neck, pretending that he's not already sweating from the intense heat of several layers of blankets. Either way, Camille doesn't seem to care, especially since she's a sneezing, coughing mess herself. It just works out, as always.

"You're comfy," Camille sighs against his neck and attempts to move closer to him until there isn't an inch left between them. Her knee is bent and tucked between his long legs, and her hand is grasping onto the back of his loose t-shirt.

"And you're warm," Scott tiredly mumbles, somehow already lulled to sleep with the comfort of Camille next to him. He softly presses his lips against the top of her head and then closes his green eyes. Fuck, Scott's never loved someone this much (aside from his parents and friends, of course). He's found another home, which is something that he never believed would happen. Not only does he have his mom and dad, Sweet Stems, and Permanent Records with his friends, but he now also has Camille West. Scott always wants Camille West in every possible way ever.

     With this pleasant thought in his mind, he falls asleep to the soft sounds of his girlfriend's breath, as well as her heart beating along with his.

❀❀❀

"I'M GONNA MAKE you some soup," Scott declares, sitting up on Camille's bed. His dark hair is sticking up in all directions, and he ditched the shirt halfway through lying in bed, so all his tattoos are on full display. Hot fucking damn.

The two of them woke up not too long ago, still in each other's tight embrace. For some reason, that makes Scott extremely pleased with himself. People tend to move around in their sleep to get comfortable, but he believes that they were secure enough together to just stay in the same position. Scott almost laughed, finding himself going soft but not really caring at all. He would change himself just for this girl, but he doesn't even have to do that, knowing that Camille accepted him for the way he is. There's no way he could be or get any luckier.

Camille yawns, stretching her limbs as she gets up from the bed. "Do you even know how to make soup?"

There's a slight pause of hesitation before Scott says, "I'm gonna order you some soup."

     Camille laughs, which escalates into violent coughing. Scott sympathetically rubs her back under her sweater until she eventually calms down and can breathe again. Her cheeks are flushed, and her normally well-kept hair is in a messy, short ponytail, a few strands haphazardly falling around her face. Camille's lips are chapped, and the rest of her skin is paler than usual. But damn, she still looks unbelievably beautiful in Scott's eyes. And fuck, he's probably going to spend the rest of his life wondering how the hell someone like her can be with someone like him.

"Why don't you go freshen up?" Scott suggests, pulling his shirt over his head and adjusting it, "I'll order food, and we can watch Netflix or something. Sound good?"

"It sounds perfect," Camille says and then awkwardly pauses, fiddling with her thumbs for a moment, which immediately catches his undivided attention, "Uh, thanks, Scott. For taking care of me."

"Anything for my girl," Scott easily replies in contrast, throwing her a lopsided smile that simply takes her breath away. He quickly pulls her into a side hug, plants another kiss on top of her head, and then gently pushes her towards the direction of the bathroom.

While Scott's waiting, he makes the call for food and asks for them to deliver to Camille's apartment. He takes out his laptop from his backpack and signs into Netflix, knowing that his girly girl would like to watch The Office, claiming that it's one of the best shows ever. And Scott agrees that it is pretty good. By the time it's up and running, Camille walks back to her room and smiles at him.

"What season?"

"Two," she immediately responds, climbing onto the bed with a renewed vigor, not feeling as sluggish as before. Camille snuggles into Scott's side, leaning her head against his shoulder as the first episode begins to play.

     Not too long after, Scott has to get up and get the food, causing Camille to protest from the lack of warmth. He simply promises to be back and heads to the front door. The delivery guy, funnily enough, compliments Scott's undercut, which the punk finds pretty amusing as he pays with his money. Well, he does have a pretty cool haircut.

     Going back to Camille's room, they start from where they left off. And it's just peaceful between him and his girlfriend.

______________________________

School is just too much, ugh.

I REALLY LOVE YOU GUYS!

P.S. (SHAMELESS ADVERTISING) I FINISHED ABOUT AXEL AND STARTED THE SEQUEL.