Camsten: During what seems to be the biggest thunderstorm in years, Cameron convinces Kirsten to stay at his place.
Kirsten sat next to the window to hear the pitter-patter of the rain more clearly. Through the open blinds, she could see the occasional ray of lightning that illuminated the dark night sky. The weatherman had predicted a harsh storm coming their way, so Cameron insisted that Kirsten stayed at his place. It was safer than letting her go off alone in what could possibly be the biggest thunderstorm in years.
The next clap of thunder was deafening, making Kirsten quake in, what Cameron perceived as, fear. It made her lose composure, for a moment, but, then, she was back to her normal deadpan self. She seemed relaxed after a while and, before she knew it, she found herself drifting off to sleep.
Cameron couldn’t bear to watch his blonde companion in such an uncomfortable sleeping position. He lifted her off her resting place and settled her on his bed. As soon as her skin came in contact with the bed sheets, her eyes flung open and she gripped his forearm with all her might.
“Relax, I’m just putting you to sleep. And, don’t worry, after that slap, I’m not sleeping beside you ever again.”
“No,” half asleep, she grasped his wrist. “Stay.“
Cameron titled his head to the side in confusion. "You’re not just saying that because you’re dozing off? Promise that you won’t hurt me in the morning."
He could feel her rolling her eyes, even when she was facing the other way.
"Shut up and get in bed before I change my mind and make you sleep in that uncomfortable couch of yours.”
“Technically, it’s my apartment. If anyone’s making anyone move to the couch, it’d be me. I’d tell you to move. If I wasn’t being clear, I wouldn’t move; you would.” Cameron harped on.
She turned to face him. Tousled hair and glasses sliding down his nose, she wished she could run her hands through his hair and fix his glasses. Soon enough, she was smiling, biting her bottom lip while he talked. She hadn’t realized she was doing this until Cameron stopped talking and looked up at her. She snapped out of it and cleared her throat. “Regardless, if you were going to make me sleep on the couch, why did you go through all that trouble to bring me to your bed?”
“Trouble? You’re as light as feather, cupcake.”
She hmed. “I thought I was a real ball-buster."
Her eyes laid on his clothed chest as he chuckled. His cheeks flushed red when he noticed Kirsten staring, but still continued.
"Oh! Believe me; you are a real ball-buster, just personality-wise.” The side of his lip curled into a smirk.
“Is that so, Dr. Goodkin?"
He winced at the name. He was a neuroscientist, yes, but he had gotten used to hearing that name when he was being reprimanded by his superior. He knew it was foolish, but it caught him off guard. Kirsten noticed the shift in his facial expression; she placed her hand on his shoulder, as if offering an apology. She gently caressed his shoulder, drawing circles with the tip of her index finger and, slowly, moving the strokes to his collarbone. A shiver ran down his spine and Kirsten felt him slightly shudder, causing her to tremble, too.
Her entire life, she never felt this way. Cameron had a way of breaking down her walls without even trying. Once, she even considered asking Camille for advice. But, she knew if she did, the brunette wouldn’t let her outlive it. Camille had offered to hear about Kirsten’s feelings, as a way to make the rooming conditions friendlier. They had been getting close, but not close enough for her to share her feelings about her dorky co-worker.
She looked over at Cameron, who was still staring at her. Not having time perception, she didn’t know how long she had spaced out for; but, whatever amount of time she had been staring at him, he didn’t seem to mind. His smile never faded.
He got off the bed and stretched. Kirsten couldn’t help but notice how the bottom of his shirt rode up, revealing his navel. Kirsten forced herself to snap out of it before he could acknowledge her lustful staring and said something witty, like, my eyes are up here.
He looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand.
"The night is still young! Let’s watch something.” He withdrew his laptop from his desk and brought it to the bed.
After a long time of unnecessary scrolling, she knew it was a long time because they had scrolled through over a hundred movies, and unnecessary because she had suggested Harry Potter from the start, they chose Harry Potter. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, to be exact, her favorite from the series. During the movie, Kirsten unleashed her inner geek, impressing the man in bed next to her with her extensive knowledge.
Geeky Kirsten made Cameron want to crash his lips into hers. He craved her attention. He had her in his bed, but not once thought about sex. He thought about stroking her hair, maybe even smelling it. But, to him, that sounded weird. He stopped his train of thought to listen to Kirsten’s voice. She expressed how it had been so long since she last read the books and missed reading them.
“Luckily for you, I happen to have all seven books in this closet.” He pointed at the wooden doors on the left of the bed.
“Mind reading one to me?” The blonde perked up on the frame of his bed.
He scrambled to get off of bed and look for the collection, “Philosopher’s Stone, right?”
When he lied next to her, she slid down just enough so she could rest her head on his chest. Their figures fit perfectly together.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number 4 Privet Drive, were very proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.
Her eyelids grew heavy and, with the soothing sound of Cameron’s voice, her breathing deep and relaxed, she started to drift off. Maybe she should take Camille up on that expressing-her-feelings offer.
Goodnight, princess. A pair of lips pressing against her forehead were the last thing Kirsten felt before she slipped into oblivion.
When the morning came, Cameron found himself grinning at the ray of sunlight lying beside him.
Good morning, sunshine.