Three Is A Crowd

Chapter 39: Show Don't Tell

"The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself." - Oscar Wilde

Liked and reblogged. Seems like a good quote.

Oh, and this naked (tasteful nude) lady is beautiful. Okay, let me reblog that real quick, too.

Yet Camila is still bored.

She's been scrolling through her secret Tumblr account feed (a very secret account which no one knows -- not even Dinah... especially not Dinah -- because her likes and reblogs mostly consist of One Direction, naked girls that suspiciously resemble a little (a lot!) like the green-eyed fiend she's been trying to not think about, and a lot of quotes that embodies her heart and soul), and it's been like thirty minutes now but she's still tense and restless.

Her body is brimming with energy which begs to be released.

Fuck, not again. She knows her spirit fingers are beckoning her, and she's been trying to ignore the urge because she should have better self-control than how she's been acting this past few weeks.

She doesn't even know how she has come to this point, and, honestly, she doesn't think she cares anymore.

She recalls Lauren yesterday at Bake You Mad, after they got out of that tiny bathroom, staring at her like she's better than that cupcake she's been nibbling at, while holding hands with Matty McDirty -- which is very slimy on Lauren's part if Camila has something to say about it. At least, Camila was trying to pay attention to Shawn (because he's being sweet as usual) but admittedly failing miserably because Lauren's gaze feel so heated and electrifying that she swears she feels like she's being sautéed in a frying pan, like bitch make it stop because any moment she'll just scream at the top of her lungs and rip her own clothes off and just fucking lay herself on top of that table where Lauren is eating her cupcake and beg her to just ---

Fuck Tumblr, it's no fucking use.

Camila throws her phone away, glances at the door knob to make sure it's locked (it is), lifts her skirt up, her hand sneaks inside the garter of her boy-shorts, and releases a long shaky sigh when her fingers find that magical place that only she has the key to.

And okay so she's not entirely a bad girlfriend, right. Because she tries. She tries so damn hard to make it about Shawn, even when they're having a little problem recently and that he doesn't get her hot anymore; she still pushes herself to imagine him, because it's what she's supposed to do.

That's how it usually starts, at least.

She closes her eyes and imagines Shawn on top of her, pleasing her like he used to do perfectly. She imagines running her hands on his thick dark brown hair, as his soft lips (it's really soft because he regularly uses lip balm with SPF 15 at least) plant kisses all over her neck which she really likes, his big hands run familiarly on her skin, and those brown eyes full of love and warmth staring at her, and okay so Camila doesn't feel that spark inside her yet... it takes a little bit of warming up first. It's fine. She's a patient person (most of the time).

So she lets her fingers do the work, her other hand sneaking inside her crop top, and continue with her make-believe scenario in her head. 

The funny thing about a human brain is that it's a big fucking troll when it comes to feeding her (unwanted!) thoughts. Like, the more Camila tries not to think about shit, the more her brain will give her images and ideas that's totally not welcome, but she's like totally unable to remove them from her head once her mind starts thinking about it.