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it's been a while again, but jude smut coming soon. meanwhile, enjoy this small, short fluff i made for camavinga. he deserves more appreciation.
beabadoobee ¡ Loveworm ¡ Song ¡ 2019
âCamaââ she said between laughters. âCould you please stop?â
Camavinga was hitting her with a pillow, gently, of course, because he would never hurt his best friend. They had known each other for so long and despite her many attempts to annoy him, he wouldnât fight back. He never did. He didnât know why.
That day, Eduardo was trying skating with her. For a footballer, he had a terrible balance. While she mocked his attempt of a performance, he fell and scratched his knee. He complained like it was the end of his career.
Between a mix of a huff and a laughter, she took him to her place â they werenât far away, after all, since it was her skate.
âWhen you said you had band-aids,â he said while still hitting her with the pillow. âI didnât think it would be Hello Kitty ones! It ruins all my stylish reputation! What do you think I look like with these?â he asked, stopping for a moment to point to his wounded knee. Â
Eduardo was being overly dramatic, and he knew it. It was how their dynamic worked, and he wouldnât change it for anything in the world
âA princess?â she attempted, trying to hold her laughter.
âYouâre soââ Camavinga had given up on hitting her with the pillow and threw himself on her bed. Â
She could get under her skin so easily, but that was due to how much she knew him. He was sure that, at this point, they could become one. If he was blind, he could find her by the scent of her hair. And, if he couldnât smell, Eduardo would still know her from her simple touch of her hand or by touching the strands of her hair.
Was that an appropriate thought? He had to get rid of it.
âWhat? Beautiful? Smart? The sweetest girl in town?â She teased him.
Maybe she was all of that. Maybe even a bit more. But it was a thought he didnât dare to cross.
âAnnoying is more suitable.â He rolled his eyes.
âMy Hello Kitty princess.â She teased him and pinched his sides, making him slightly flinch and huff.
âFine. Have your field day with your stupid band-aids. Iâm going to change them when I get home.â He replied, gruff.
He wouldnât, not at all. Not when she kneeled in front of him and made sure to take care of him. No matter how silly the band-aid was, he wouldnât change it.
Did that mean something?
No, he couldnât think about it. Not about his friend. Much less in her bed.
Eduardo Camavinga was a lot of things. A famous footballer, a Real Madrid player, a charmer, a funny guy. But, in his mind, above all, he was her best friend; the thought terrified him just as much as it thrilled him. He couldnât stop thinking of her gentle touch against his skin, worried about a mere scratch on his knee that he had made a big deal of.
âEdu?â She asked, the nickname only she was allowed to use. No one else called him that. âYouâre spacing out, my dear.â
They were having milkshakes while sitting on a bench at her favorite park. Slowly, Eduardo was starting to realize the number of things he did or places he went because she was happy with it, and how he learnt to love it out of her happiness.
But he couldnât think about that. Not about her, right?
Although, he had to admit, it was pretty damn hard to not think like that when she called him my dear. He stretched his free arm, with his yellow letter jacket, and put it behind her. A common gesture.
âI was just thinking about football.â Easy escape. Camavinga could get rid of almost anything if he said it was about football. No one dared to say otherwise.
Except her, of course, because she had to be an exception for every damn thing in his life. She knew him too much. Maybe he was going mad.
âYouâre a terrible liar.â She said and took a sip of her milkshake as if what she had said was nothing.
âExcuse me?â He said, almost offended. She could see right through him.
âYou do this thing when youâre lying that you crease your eyebrows and look away. Like when you said you wouldnât buy anything expensive for my birthday.â She explained.
âYou think youâre so clever.â Eduardo rolled his eyes. She wasnât wrong. âYouâre not the only one who pays attention, you know?â
âOh, yeah?â She looked at him, defiant.
âYeah. For exampleââ He leaned close to her. If he was truly observant, he wouldâve realized the look in her eyes. How her pupils dilated or the way her breath hitched; how she looked from his mouth to his eyes. âThe strands of your hair are tucked behind your ear, and you never do that. Besides, you ordered a cappuccino milkshake when you only drink matcha. Doesnât sound much like you, does it?â
She bit her bottom lip. She never would have thought he paid that much attention to her.
âFirst of all, matcha is heavenly. Second, canât a girl try new stuff?â She argued.
âSure, Hello Kitty.â He replied with a smirk, going back to appreciate the trees nearby.
âI think I more a My Melody girl.â She said, squinting her eyes, as if she was truly in deep thought about the subject. He just rolled his eyes.
âYouâre annoying.â He retorted, holding back a smile. He wouldnât change a thing about her.
They were both drunk in her room, sitting on her couch while the movie they were watching ended. They had too much of a mixture of apple cider with alcoholic drinks. Didnât taste perfect, but they just wanted to get wasted. It was their way to relax during a Saturday night.
âYou know,â Camavinga looked at her, his tone slurred. âI really like your hair. Itâs so pretty and soft andââ
âI really like your mouth.â She interrupted him, not even processing what she was saying. He felt his heartbeat slightly faster, because, at the same time it could mean nothing, it could mean something. âTheyâre so full and look so soft, perfect toââ
She stopped mid-sentence. She couldnât say what she wanted to say.
Camavinga leaned closer to her. It was past midnight, and he didnât give a damn about anything else at that moment but her. She leaned right back, to his surprise.
âPerfect to what?â he asked in a whisper, as if it was another one of their secrets. Something forbidden to say.
âTo kiss.â she finally replied, her voice barely audible.
And that was his doom. He couldnât take it any longer, and he was tired of keeping his thoughts and feelings away.
He leaned closer, inches away from her mouth, closing his eyes as he tried to get courage to do what he had been wanting to for a long time. But, to his surprise, she kissed him. Her soft hands between his jaw and the back of his ear as his hands traveled to her perfect hair. Time stopped for a moment; their minds dizzy from the gentleness of the kiss. It was as if they were testing waters, to evaluate if that was forbidden or not.
It certainly didnât taste forbidden.
âYou taste like apple cider.â She whispered softly against his lips once they pulled away, looking for some air.
âSo do you.â He chuckled softly.
âEven if weâre just friends,â she whispered. âWe could be more than that, right?â