Riptide (a camren fic)

Chapter 18: your beautiful eyes stare right into mine

A/N: this one's for the people who've been asking for sexy times since like.. 2015.

.

.

.

The sound of the alarm blares through Camila's ears relentlessly until she finally gets enough motivation to fumble with the snooze button. She blinks up at her ceiling, taking in the darkness of her room languidly. A stretch comes to her then as her senses slowly spring forth. She reaches back, fingers brushing the top of her headboard. The blanket tangles around her legs the farther she stretches.

It's at this drowsy moment, when her legs get caught, that she suddenly becomes very aware of the fact that there is a body draped across hers. A soft groan of protest puffs against her chest like a petulant child. She racks through her head, fighting the lethargy that grips her thoughts, before she remembers where she's at.

The small spark of panic evaporates when her mind catches up, and she looks down at Lauren snuggled up against her.

Oh.

Oh, right.

A warmth settles deep in her chest when arms hold her in more securely.

"Five more minutes."

Camila feels, rather than hears Lauren's muffled voice against her neck. It's a hot breath, curling against her collarbone in an unreasonably soothing way that Camila is tempted to just settle further into the embrace.

But she glances down at her phone. The screen reads 5:37 am. The waking hours of the Cabello household is rapidly approaching. Any minute now, Camila will hear her mother shuffling out of her room to make her rounds. First checking in on Sofi, then Camila, before she heads down to the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on. Soon, the smell of it will permeate the rest of the house.

It would have bothered her before, but the thought of it all sends a comforting tingle down her belly. Despite the mundane routine, it's almost as if there's something to look forward to today. And perhaps it's all just complemented by the person she's waking up to.

Camila's gaze returns to Lauren. Her eyes travel down the length of her body, taking in the sleep worn clothes she borrowed from Camila's closet. Several articles that Camila has set aside specifically for Lauren.

Ever since their sleepover last week, it seemed like they just sort of gravitated toward each other's rooms. It becomes a habit before Camila really realizes it. By the time her parents head for bed, she's already opening the window for Lauren to crawl in and join her.

It's an unspoken routine. As unmentionable as the fact that it seems as if Lauren actually sleeps. Something Camila wants to ask her about but never does. Nothing about her dreams resurface, and the more Camila thinks about it, the more she wonders if she really even wants to know.

She studies the movement of Lauren's breathing, counting silently in her head as she inhales and exhales. It's not a super unfamiliar sight waking up to Lauren so close. They've had sleepovers in the past. But there's a certain kind of intimacy that Camila can't ignore. A vulnerability that she denied herself back in high school. It's like she's allowed to just look finally, to indulge in Lauren's presence without feeling guilty or gross.

Camila toys with the sleeve of Lauren's t-shirt, before tracing a finger beneath the cotton to feel the smooth, warm skin. It's a calming sensation, reassuring even, to feel a solid body next to her. To know something living and breathing and tangible is so close. Like she's sitting on the beach, soaking up the sun.

Lauren stirs again, and Camila knows she's just delaying the inevitable.

With a gentle sigh, she wriggles from out of her grasp.