Miss Cabello

What A Woman Should Do Before She Fucks A Man

Camila tossed and turned on her bed as the temperature inside the room got colder. A single ray of sunlight sneaked itself through the curtains inside her bedroom, slashing across her eyes. She turned away from the discomfort of it, and glanced at the bright numbers of the clock. It had been 2 hours since she was discharged from the hospital, yet she could not sleep. The dream, it had been too long since she saw that dream.

Why haunt her now?

A secret she buried into the depths of her past, and surely it was clawing its way back to her present, maybe her future.

No one had to know. No one needed to know. And it wasn't the only one she kept.

With a sigh, she leapt up from the bed and walked towards the bathroom. She turned on the sink, letting the water run down the drain. She took a handful of it in her hands and splashed it across her face, drying it with a towel shortly thereafter. She grabbed the hairbrush within her reach and pulled it through her locks. Her hair had laid peacefully below her shoulders, and she stared at it through the mirror.

Until a faint knock echoed inside her silent room. She quickly scrambled to the door to see Lauren carrying a tray with her. Camila's mind emptied of thoughts as Lauren took a step in. Lauren placed the tray on her bed, opening the lid to reveal a meal prepared.

"I asked Grace to cook you a meal, and I thought of bringing them up here to you."

Camila recoiled back a few steps. It still felt uncomfortable around Lauren. Both of them could not deny the awkwardness that hung in the air. The encounter in the hospital a few hours ago did nothing in evaporating any unpleasant feelings. It only added more.

"Just so you know, this does not change anything. You're still a whore to me, and I still hate you, got that, slut?"

Though not receiving any verbal confirmation, Camila's brown eyes told Lauren she understood.

"Good. How's your head?"

Camila wasn't sure, but the question felt forced and null of any feelings. "I'm okay. I got a few hours rest."

Lauren was only half-listening and blew on her nails, examining the new polish she got on them. "M'kay." Then Lauren left her in the bedroom all by herself.

Grace entered not soon after, placing her palm flat on her forehead, checking for any signs of sickness sweeping over Camila's body.

"I'm fine, Grace." She said softly.

I have to be.

-

Days after being confined inside the suite by Grace to achieve her much needed rest, Camila was walking around the streets of Central Park. She walked up the arch of the bridge, and down to the garden path. The patches of green on the sidewalk were full of flowers, each blooming in the flight of summer. From where she stood, she could see the reservoir, the water reflecting the light from the sun above.

Suddenly, she felt something warm and wet on her left foot.

Camila looked down and she saw the little brown Pomeranian in the task of licking her foot. She giggled, but found it a challenge to bend down due to her stomach, so she could only stare warmly to the animal.

"Gigi! There you are!" A thick male voice said near her, snapping her out of her admiration from the dog. She saw a man with a towering height and strong features run towards her. He was wearing a tank top and jogging pants, clearly in the middle of a morning exercise. He petted the dog below before shifting to Camila. "Forgive her for being such a bother."