Shawmila Imagines

Kiss

A/N: small part taken from a book called FANGIRL.

Narrator

Camila couldn't control whether she saw Shawn on Campus. But she could probably worry about it, and as long as she was worrying about it, it probably wasn't going to happen. Like some sort of anxiety vaccine. Like watching a pot to make sure it never boiled.

She wore comforting grooves in her head, worrying about seeing Shawn, then telling herself all the reasons it wasn't going to happen:

First, because Ariana had promised to keep him away.

And second, because Shawn didn't have any business on City Campus. Camila told herself that Shawn spent all his time working on new guitar melodies or making out in his kitchen with pretty girls.

- flashback -

There was music playing - sleepy, electronic music - but not too loud. And somebody was burning incense.

There were plenty of people still here - all older than Camila, at least as old as Shawn - and they were mostly just talking.

Camila stood as close as she could to Ariana's back and tried not to be obvious about looking for Shawn.

Maybe Shawn was in the bathroom.

Maybe he'd already gone to bed.

"Come on," Ariana said to Camila. "Let's go find him." And then, when they'd walked away from everyone else: "Be cool."

Camila stuck close behind Ariana, so Ariana saw Shawn before Camila was even through the door. "Shit," Camila heard her whisper.

Camila stepped into the kitchen.

Shawn was leaning back against the sink. He had a bottle of beer in one hand, the same hand he was pressing into a girl's back.

The girl looked older than Camila. Even with her eyes closed. Shawn's other hand was tangled in her long, blond hair, and he was kissing her with his mouth smiling and open.

Camila looked down immediately and walked out of the kitchen, walked straight through the house to the front door. She knew Shawn was running right behind her because she could hear him muttering. "Shit, shit, Camila."

- flashback over -

So, there was no reason for their paths to ever cross.

Still...she froze every time she saw curly brown hair and a denim jacket - or every time she wished she did.

She froze now.

Because there he was, right where he wasn't supposed to be, sitting outside her door. Proof positive that she hadn't been worrying enough.

Shawn saw Camila, too, and sprang to his feet. He wasn't smiling.

Camila steppes wearily forward. "Ariana's in class," she said when she was still a few doors away.

"I know," He said. "That's why I'm here."

Camila shook her head. It could've meant "no" or it could have meant "I don't understand" - both were true. She stopped walking. Her stomach hurt so bad, she wanted to bend over.

"I just need to tell you something." Shawn said quickly.

"I really don't want you to come in," She said.

"That's Fine. I can tell you out here."

Camila crosses her arms over her stomach and nodded.

Shawn nodded back. He pushed his hands into his jean pockets.

"I was wrong," he said.

She nodded. Because duh. And because she didn't know what he wanted from her.

He pushed his hands deeper into his coat. "Camila," He said earnestly, "our kiss wasn't just a kiss."

"Okay." Camila looked past him to her door. She took a step closer then, toward the door, holding her key up like they were done here.

Shawn stepper our of her way. Confused, but still polite.

Camila put her key in the door, then held onto the handle, hanging her head forward. She could hear him breathing and fighting behind her. Shawn.

"Which one?" She asked.

"What?"

"Which kiss? Ours or you and that girl." Her voice was weak and thin. Wet paper.

"The first one," Shawn said after a few seconds.

"But the second one was? It was just a kiss?"

Shawn's voice got closer: "I don't want to talk about the second one."

"Too bad."

"Then yes," He said. "It was just a - it was nothing."

"What about the third one?"

"Is that a trick question?"

Camila shrugged.

"Camila... I'm trying to tell you something here."

She turned around and immediately regretted it. Shawn's hair was tousled, most of it pushed back, bits of it falling over his forehead. And he wasn't smiling, so his brown honey eyes were taking over his whole long face.

"What are you trying to tell me?"

"That it wasn't just a kiss, Camila. There was no just."

"No just?"

"No."

"So?" Her voice sounded much cooler than she felt. Inside, her internal organs were grinding themselves into nervous pulp. Her stomach was wringing itself out, yanking on her trachea.

"So... aahhggch," Shawn said, frustrated, running both his hands through his hair. "So I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that our kids was nothing. I mean, I know why I said it, but I was wrong. Really wrong. And I wish I could go back so that the rest of this crap wouldn't have happened."

Camila remained silent.

"Camila."

"What."

"What are you thinking?"

"I still don't know what all this means," She said.

"It means... I really like you." His hand was in his hair again. Just the one. Holding it back. "Like, really like you. And I want that - our kiss to have been the start of something. Not the end."

Camila looked at Shawn's face. His eyebrows were pulled down in the middle, bunching up the skin above his nose. His cheeks, for once, were absolutely smooth. And his lips were at their most doll-like, not even a quirk of a smile.

"It felt like that start of something." He said.

She nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." She turned around and unlocked the door. "You can come in. I'm not sure yet about all the other stuff."

"Okay," Shawn said. She heard the very beginning of a smile in his voice - a fetal smile - and it very nearly killed her.

•••

TDAAAAAA

Q: favourite colour? (Look at me so original and basic.)

A: purple (or turquoise.. or black)

-Taylor💋