#frydam

Merry Christmas, Mom - Camille Ryder x Liam Kosta - Mass Effect Andromeda Canon Verse - Angst with a heaping of fluff - 990 words

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The strange looks cast in her direction during early morning excursions to the Nexus medical bay decreased with the frequency of her trips. Only Dr. Carlyle and Dr. T’Perro really knew why she visited the cryo beds, other support staff surely thought she was out of her mind, but never commented on her behavior. Who wouldn’t be a little eccentric given all she had been through. Perhaps they assumed she had a friend still considered “non-essential” who she talked to, or maybe they thought she liked the quiet. Surely nobody would be searching for the Pathfinder in that area of the ark. 

She shuffled into the silent, dark hallway still pajama-clad in goofy Christmas slippers. She’d left her blanket, not wanting to appear more ridiculous, but donned her terrible sweater. Camille was never going to let Liam get rid of it, despite the threats. She cracked a small smile, and stopped in front of the cryo bed she could now find with her eyes closed.

Her fingers grazed the metal, cold and smooth. Ellen Ryder, brilliant biomedical and cybernetic researcher–her mother–lay inside under the alias Elizabeth Reilly. Camille suspected what people would say, how they would judge if the truth of her mother’s status was brought to light. She was supposed to be dead, but her father couldn’t let her go. Here she was, terminal illness due to eezo exposure, hidden but alive because of the power Alec Ryder had wielded. So many others had left family, people they loved behind for lesser reasons. Ellen Ryder should not be on this ship.

She sighed, sunk to the floor, back to the cryo bed, arms on her knees. “Hi, mom,” she spoke aloud, “sorry it’s been so long. I’ve been busy.” She waited for the response she knew wouldn’t come. “Merry Christmas.”

She looked around, the hallway echoed in the stillness, sterile and without color or cheer. “I know it doesn’t look like your favorite season. I guess doctors aren’t keen on decorating. Do you remember our silly decorations? The glitter and lights? Scott and the goofy jingle bell slippers and necklace he refused to take off? The way dad always pretended to be a grinch, but secretly loved every second of the holiday?”

Ryder sniffed, tipping her head back against the surface of her mother’s resting place, “I’m sorry. I didn’t come here to make us sad.” She shook her head at the idea that her mother was actually able to hear her, let alone be affected by her emotions. 

She took another deep breath and continued, “I’ve met someone.” She blushed thinking about the prior evening, the time she spent with the man who made her giddy beyond reason, who kept her in the light with his carefree ease. “His name is Liam. He’s handsome, funny, strong and compassionate. I think you’d like him.”

Camille imagined what it would be like if she’d fallen in love back on Earth. She would have told her mom immediately, begged her for help keeping it from dad until Liam was ready to meet him. She chuckled thinking what could have happened if the fearsome Alec Ryder employed the scare tactic on Liam. Would he have been intimidated or maybe just rolled with the punches laughing all the while?

“He helped me save the Arks, fight the Kett. Liam keeps me balanced…” she hesitated then chuckled, “probably sane, too.” Ryder closed her eyes, she thought of the last Christmas she’d had with her mom, pictured her face, the smudge of flour on her cheek lips pressed together as Scott stole another cookie. Ellen was always so cheerful, optimistic, happy. Thinking of her then, knowing she was trapped in cryosleep was almost more than she could take. Her voice wavered, “Uh…he asked me to marry him, after a battle. He was probably kidding, riding high emotions and such, but I’d like to. I mean, if he was serious.” 

“He was, you know.”

She jumped to her feet, embarrassed at not having heard him approach. “God, Liam, really? You scared the shit out of me!”

Liam walked slowly towards her, though he’d had the decency to get dressed-wearing a soft green sweater and jeans paired with his favorite sneakers-he still had a sleepy smile on his face. “Camille, I love you. The moment you sat across from me in the med bay, waking up after 600 years, all I could think about was how I could get you to talk to me.” He took her hands in his, kissed her knuckles, and smirked when he caught sight of the ugliest sweater in existence. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I shouldn’t have waited so long to ask proper.”

He looked at the cryo bed, touched the surface just as reverently as Camille had, “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Ryder, ma’am. If she’ll have me, I promise to take care of your daughter, to keep her safe, happy, and from becoming a cranky recluse.” He looked back to Ryder, a hopeful look on his face, “Unless that’s really what she wants. I couldn’t dream up a better partner for this life. Camille Ryder,” he pressed a gold ring, small diamonds forming crescent moon wrapped around a sapphire, into her hands, “will you marry me?”

Her heart thudded, a grin spreading across her face, she would deny crying later to anyone who asked, though she was sure they wouldn’t believe her, “Liam Kosta, I thought you would never ask again.” She kissed him with everything she had, holding him tightly. 

He broke their kiss, his bright smile infectious, “If we don’t leave now, I’m going to do something foolish, and I’ll never be able to look into your mother’s eyes. That wouldn’t do considering we haven’t even met yet.”

Ryder broke free, ushered her into Hakim’s waiting arms, and rushed to the Operation’s balcony. She was flustered and blushing profusely. She knew Keri would be mortified by the interaction once sober. Smoothing out her dress, she tucked her hair behind her ear and took the opportunity to survey the area. Gil had commandeered a table, and set up an impromptu game of poker. By the look on his face, she believed he was already making a killing. Vetra was not far away, talking shop like always. She smiled to herself, the idea of the Turian taking a night off was too amusing.

Drack held court, pretending to hate the attention he was getting. Nexus Security -especially the humans- pleading for war stories and tips from the grizzled war veteran. She attempted to look casual as she glanced his way. Pretending not to be looking for anyone specific, but knowing full well that if Liam was going to be anywhere, it was near Drack. Despite their squabbles, Drack won him over with his tough love attitude that didn’t fool anyone.

She would never admit to actively keeping tabs on Liam. She toyed with the idea of confessing how she felt about him, but shoved the idea back down time and time again. Getting caught up in his teasing and flirting happened far too often. When she stepped back, silent witness to his interactions with others, she doubted that he saw her as anything special. He had a natural ease and charm, a disarming smile, and no shortage of admirers.  Ryder really had no interest in seeing him be the life of the party, no interest in playing savior of the galaxy while nursing a broken heart. Especially since he had done nothing but show her kindness.  She would never accuse him of leading her on, however, she allowed herself to rush into infatuation faster than she previously assumed possible.

Glutton for punishment that she was, she scanned the room for him, heart plummeting when she didn’t find him. She was being an idiot. Why could she handle fighting Kett, playing diplomat, and general Pathfinding, but she couldn’t talk to a guy? A very goofy guy. Hell, she could do this. She tossed her drink back, downing her mostly full glass in one go, and stopped by the makeshift bar. Shared a pointed look with Anan T’Mari, and reached behind the counter, helping herself to a bottle of alcohol. If she was going to speak to the object of her affections, tell him she was falling madly in love with him, she was going to need more courage than she had at present. Of course, her entire plan hinged on Liam being somewhere she could find him. Should she inquire about him? That wouldn’t be unusual, right? Just looking in on her squadmates, nothing that anyone could take out of context…

Like a sign from the universe, Drack appeared next to her at the bar, ordered something strong, and grumbled. “What’s got you looking like a jumpy little pyjak?”

“I don’t… what do you mean? Nothing going on here, just relaxing, hanging out….chilling.” She cringed internally, did she actually say that aloud?

He laughed, a deep rumble, and gave her a pat on the back, “Is being uncomfortable part of this Christmas of yours? The boy looked a little green, too.”

“Liam’s not feeling well?” she asked, quickly feigning plucking at imaginary lint; fighting to appear nonchalant, but the urge to bolt making her skin itch.

“Mmmhmm,” Drack grunted his assent, pausing to drink, “he got this queasy look about him like a bronto kicked him in the quad.”

“That doesn’t sound good. Maybe someone should go check on him?”

“Probably.”

“So…I should go.”

“Not stopping you, kid.”

“Ok…right. I guess I’ll do that.” Camille grabbed for her pilfered alcohol, two glasses, and walked quickly to the tram, happily leaving the Christmas party behind.

**

Liam stalked to the Tempest. The artificial air of the Nexus only slightly cooler than the interior area hosting the party. The bodies packed together had done nothing to settle his nerves. He would be lying if he hadn’t thought of trying to get Camille alone at some point, hoping to use the crowd in his favor. Maybe casually drop how pretty she looked, even if that didn’t come close to describing what he felt. When she first stepped on stage with Tann, his heart had damn near stopped. She wore a cream tulle skirt that hit her knees, and a burgundy long sleeve sweater. The heels on their own were enough to send him into shock. Sure, Ryder always looked good. She was fighting fit, got dirty on missions, and filled out the armor. But seeing her in a dress, all shapely legs, and hair curling around her neck, had him reeling.

When did everything go all pear shaped? He was standing around, trying to be obvious, in case she was looking to talk to him. Or making sure he would see her first in case some other bugger tried to talk her up. He didn’t count on the damn Asari. Were they snogging and he hadn’t noticed? That didn’t seem right, and the gossip mongers would have caught wind if she was in a relationship. Even struggling to survive, people loved their tabloids.

Inside the ship, he wandered a bit, not quite sure what to do. The quiet of the ship never settled right with him. Thoughts came unbidden, and when he had time to think, he realized how much he missed. Everything he lost, and most of it gone for good. He rolled up his sleeves, and took a good look around. Camille had a fake Christmas tree set up in the hangar bay. She begged them all to help her decorate it. Some weird team building kick she was on. Ryder had been so cute and hopeful, he had volunteered to help, even though everyone else said no.

It took them three hours. The lights had been easy, some multi colored strand she got from the Nexus. The hard part had been coming up with ornaments. They ended up using strange bits of things - cereal box pieces tied with string for Vetra, playing cards for Gil, shiny rocks for Suvi. All random ridiculous items for each member of their mixed up crew. Liam lay on the floor and stuck his head under the tree. He stared up at the lights, squinting his eyes, watching them blur. He had done it often as a kid. Mum had shown him, told him it was her favorite part about the tree. Lights shimmering, ornaments reflecting light, quiet and calm.

“Is there room for one more under that tree?”

He closed his eyes, he knew her voice like the melody of his favorite song, and damn if it wasn’t the best thing he’d heard all night. “Course, always room, Pathfinder.” She had been walking towards him, but he could see her now bare feet pause mid stride. She always hesitated when he used her title. He felt like such an arse at times. Not knowing what made him use the title. She had a name, had asked him to use it once, but it always felt wrong. Like he wasn’t respecting her somehow.

She set her shoes down on the floor, and slid next to him. Shoulder to shoulder, hands nearly touching, hair spilling around her like a halo,  it was certainly the closest they had been out of armor. Liam swore he could feel the heat of her, the scent of roses and jasmine pulling him closer than appropriate. God he was in love, and she didn’t have a clue what effect she had on him. Probably thought he was a replacement brother since hers was out of commission. “This is a great spot for a party, sorry if I’m crashing it,” she finally said breaking the silence that had fallen around them.

“No worries, Camille. I just…that was a bit much for me. Room full of people, guess I’ve gotten used to being on the Tempest out in space.”

She sighed, and rubbed a hand up and down her arm, “Yeah, I get it. Things have been different. Not what I expected at any rate. It’s exhausting being Pathfinder. I wish…”

Liam turned his head to look at her, “Alright?”

She let out a half laugh, “It’s stupid isn’t it. Mom and Dad both gone, I don’t have a clue if Scott will ever wake up, and it’s the first Christmas in Andromeda. I’m not the only person that’s missing family, but I feel so alone.” Her voice cracked and Liam reached over for her hand, holding it tightly in his own. “Everyone wants something from me, and I can’t stop thinking about what I would be doing if we hadn’t left Earth.”

He knew, knew exactly how that felt, and damn if having first hand knowledge didn’t make his heart break for her even more. “Tell me,” he offered voice a little rough with emotion. “What else did you get up to? Bet you were a right piece. Your poor mum having to deal with two of you.”

She laughed, genuinely this time, amber eyes dancing with mischief mingled with unshed tears. “Oh we did all the normal things like rummaging through mom’s closet to find presents early. We still did that, even though we were grown. Sang along terribly while we watched Muppet Christmas Carol on repeat. Mom baked, amazing and delicious things, and always let us lick up the batter.” She went quiet for a moment, then continued in a whisper, “I’m such a jerk.”

“What’s that? I don’t follow.”

“Here I am whining like a brat, and you are probably suffering more.” She rolled out from under the tree, skirt puffing up hiding her legs, making her look like a mermaid in ocean foam. She tugged at his hand, pulling him along with her. She smiled, huge and unguarded, and if he had thought she was beautiful before, he had been very wrong. Seeing her true smile was like stealing a glance at the sun, bright and warm. She set him on fire from the inside out. Picking up a bottle of wine, and waving it in his face she supplied, “I swiped this from the bar, I’m going to drink it all, are you going to make me do it alone?”

“Hell no, Ryder. Pour away.” He watched her face as she concentrated on filling each glass to the brim, tossing him a grin when she achieved her goal. They clinked their glasses together, then Liam leaned over voice soft and said, “I have Muppet Christmas Carol on vid, and I’ll share my comfy couch.”

“This is why you are my favorite man in the universe,” she squealed kissing him soundly on the cheek. He sat dumbstruck as she stood and began to walk out, leaving her shoes behind. She looked over her shoulder, eyebrow raised and asked, “You coming?”

With the limited space available on the ship, she felt so guilty that she couldn’t even bring herself to sleep on that beautiful, wonderfully soft bed since that first night. She had tossed and turned so long hating that she was in his place.  She really wanted to offer the bed to someone, but Cora would certainly spout protocol. PeeBee would get that panicked look on her face and run for good thinking she was attempting to trap her. She didn’t know Vetra well enough to presume she would bunk with her, and she doubted Lexi would be happy to hear that she had been sleeping on the cream colored sofa out of a warped sense of loyalty to her dead father. Drack would assume she was taking pity on him, and likely headbutt her instead of saying no. If she offered the spot to Jaal, how could she possibly know that she wasn’t treading on a custom of the Angara? What if it meant something crazy like marriage? Definitely best to save that sort of offer until she knew more about the Angara as she hadn’t gotten very far into the datapad she had picked up from the Arbiter.

She might be able to convince Kosta to sleep on the bed. He might feel bad at first, like he was taking advantage of her somehow, but she was certain he would get over it. Most likely after he saw it. Her mind made up, Camille sprung off the couch, set her data pad down, and pulled a hoodie over her Blasto tank. She had been the subject of ridicule the first time she left her quarters wearing the oversized Blasto shirt. She had taken it from Scott, and she wore it now mostly for a small measure of comfort. The doors to her cabin silently slid open, and she couldn’t help but focus on how eerie and oppressive the ship felt to her at night with hardly any sounds. She made her way to the small hold in the cargo bay that Kosta had taken for his own, but she hesitated outside the door. It was very late, and she had no reason to believe that he would be awake at this hour. Still, she had come, and it couldn’t hurt to try.

She gave a soft tap at his door, flinching as it broke the silence. On the other side of the barrier, she heard a series of grunts, and something that sounded like an invitation to enter. Taking cautious steps inside she started when she realized that Kosta was not only in the middle of what must have been an epic set of pushups, but he was doing them shirtless, pants riding low on his hips. The muscles on his back and his arms rippling with each movement. She tore her eyes away, feeling like a leacher. “Liam? Don’t I work you enough on the ground? How can you possibly still have enough energy to exercise?”

“All the time. Run us ragged you do. Got a lot on my mind, you know. Can’t seem to keep still.” He said as he stood picking up a towel to wipe at the sweat coating his face. “What has you up instead of taking advantage of the Pathfinder’s quarters?”

“Funny you should ask,” Ryder fired back. “It’s actually why I am here. I wanted to ask you something, but I need you to hear me out. No judgement or interrupting, ok?” She suddenly didn’t know where to look. Asking him to be her roommate had sounded like a good idea, but standing in front the idea was suddenly absurd. She didn’t want to be that girl, but the sweat beading down his neck, traveling over his clavicle, and down to his chest reminded her just how male he was.

She knew the pause in the conversation had to have been too long, so she looked up and noticed the concern in his eyes, “Sure, Ryder. Think I can manage. What do you need?”

“Well, like you said, the Pathfinder’s quarters are just so big. I hardly need all of that space to myself, and I know there isn’t quite enough space for everyone.” She knew she had begun to ramble, but she couldn’t begin to make herself come to the point. It would be much better to have stayed quiet rather than face his rejection. There was no way he would ever agree to such an arrangement. She didn’t even know why his pending refusal made her want to crawl into a hole and die. She forced herself to forge on adding, “So I was thinking that maybe you could take the bed, and I can keep sleeping on the sofa. Or possibly you and GIl or Kallo could have the room and I could take this one.”

Liam stayed quiet for a beat or two glancing from her face to the door. The waiting made her nervous and she began to shift in place. “Look, I didn’t mean to offend, and really I am not trying anything sneaky or underhanded. I really just can’t be in there alone anymore.” With a deep sigh she dropped the facade she was holding in place and let herself feel everything she had been fighting. Shoulders slumped, brows creased, she wandered to his ratty old couch and sat down hands over her face.

The weight of him caused the couch to dip, and her body to press against him, she felt the pressure of his hand on her shoulder. “Ryder,” he softly called to her, “what is going on in that head of yours? Not a bit put off, I swear it. Just shook is all. You have to know that sounds daft, right? We would be terrible flatmates, I would watch movies you hated, and you would eat all of my snacks. I bet you snore. Plus, I would have to pretend to hate your Blasto shirt, but really we would both know I was just jealous.”

She giggled, and when she realized that he had turned her emotions around again, she couldn’t help but give him a playful punch on his arm. “I knew it! Blasto is the only reason you are nice you me. You’ll have to fight me for it.”

With a small cough he replied, “You’ve got me, Pathfinder. Now that you know my secret I’ll just have to let a Kett frag you in the back so I can get my mitts on your shirt. Been at your back watching you fight remember. No way I could take you.” After a moment he put a curled knuckle under her chin, lifted it and asked, “Really, what’s eating you, and what’s this about sleeping on a regular couch when you have a proper sized bed?”

She decided to tell him everything. How she felt abandoned by Scott and her father despite them not having a choice in the matter. Knowing full well they would both have literally done anything to be with her. Causing her to feel even worse that she was being unfair to them, and the deep pit in her stomach and ball in her throat at the sheer thought of enjoying the bed meant for someone who could actually lead them. “It would have been so much better for everyone if my dad had just made the right decision and let Habitat 7 claim my life. The Initiative doesn’t need a poor man’s Alec Ryder,” Camille said through small sniffles. She had already embarrassed herself, she wasn’t going to cry in front of him, too.

When he next spoke she couldn’t help but think he sounded angry, “What do you mean you should have died? Listen, I get you aren’t the old man. Nobody could be, and we never asked you to be. But you lead us. We found that facility on Voeld, kicked them in the teeth. Great. But the Kett steal what people are. Even with your dad we might not have pulled it off. You managed.” Liam huffed, and raked a hand through his hair, “Look, I get it. Survivor's guilt, I don’t completely understand, but you’ve been through the ringer. He chose you, and I believe you can do this.”

He activated his Omni-tool and put it between them. He told her about his family, and the project car they worked on together. The hours, time and love they poured into it for no reason at all other than that they could. Just something for them to spend time together doing. She marveled at his story, it should have occurred to him that he had a past. Parents that loved him, and he loved fiercely in return. She had been so selfish wallowing in her own misery, that she forgot that almost everyone else was suffering just as much or more. His car packed into a borrowed transport slowly passing through space being the only tangible link to his mom and dad so far away made her indescribably sad but also gave her hope. “I know I’ll never see it again, it will take two point three million years at standard light speed to even get close to Andromeda,” his voice took a shaky quality, “but the important thing is that it’s coming, and always will be.” He stopped shook his head and continued brokenly, “I don’t know what that means.”

He glanced down and Camille knew that defeated pose. It was one she mirrored too often, always alone. Her heart cried for him, and as much as she struggled to go forward each day, she understood that he was doing the same. To move past all the could-have-beens and just push for a better tomorrow. Up until this very moment he had done a much better job, he was always trying to bridge the gap, and make friends out of strangers. How much she had taken his insight and training for granted.

She leaned over to him cupping his cheek in her hand. The stubble on his face somehow feeling both prickly and soft, and strangely right. She pressed her forehead to his, and discovered his hand finding purchase in her hair at the back of her head. She closed her eyes after the blurring vision behind tears she had held in check for too long threatened to overwhelm her. LIam pulled her into a firm hug, hand stroking her back giving the comfort that she didn’t realize she had needed so badly. She returned the favor; he was just as lost. After a few moments, they leaned back into the sofa her head cradled against his shoulder and bicep, his hand still in her hair. Liam started rubbing circles on her scalp with his fingertips, and put his cheek against the top of her head.

“Ouch, don’t have to be that way. My poor heart is still broken.” He played at pouting, “I loved that sofa, and I still can’t believe you made me dump it.’

“Aw, sweetie, I would never stand between you and true love,” she managed to sound sincere, despite wanting to laugh at the inconsolable look on his face. “Go, leave me. I’ll be ok. Just,” she sighed dramatically, “give couch my best wishes. I’m sure you will be very happy together.”

He dropped the bag and lifted her into his arms planting a soft kiss to her mouth. He smelled like cinnamon and ginger and tasted like a Christmas cookie. A low hum escaped her lips as she parted her lips to deepen the kiss. He set her down carefully, hands wandering down her side to rest at her hip. She pressed closer to him, heat flushing from her head to her toes. He ruined it by tickling her mercilessly.

“Are you seriously trying to White Fang me?”

She laughed and flailed under the relentless assault, “What?..I…don’t even.”

“Seriously? You don’t get the “White Fang’ reference?” Liam scoffed. “Even couch knew that one. Maybe she was the one?”

“Nope, I take it back,” Camille panted breathlessly. “You can’t kiss me like that and expect me to let you go free. You’re stuck now.”

“Bollocks, enslaved to an intelligent, attractive woman. Rotten luck, that.”

“Worst luck ever.” She rolled her eyes, “I’ll have to punish you for your insolence.”

“Not punishment!”

“Yes, of the most severe. I have quite a few ideas.”

“I’m sure you do, but they will have to wait.” He tweaked her nose and kissed her forehead quickly, “I’m going to catch a quick rinse.”

“Ok,” she nodded looking around, “I’ll finish with the mess and get a vid on. Thanks for the cocoa.”

“I almost forgot!” He dashed back out of her room and returned scant minutes later with an unopened package. “I got this for you. Meant to give it to you early, but I was worried you’d make me wear one to.”

“What is it?”

“Just open it.”

He left her then for the shower, and she turned the poorly wrapped box in her hands. She couldn’t help but feel a little concern. What could he possibly give her to wear that he would be obligated to wear also? No reason to delay the inevitable, she ripped the package open and found the most hideous of ugly Christmas sweaters to ever exist. The monstrosity was oversized, bright red, fuzzy, and boasted a large Santa riding through space on a Taurg. The planets and a few select stars had working lights sewn into the material.

She had no idea where Liam could have picked up the sweater, but she was certainly glad he hadn’t given it to her in time for the group get together. Camille shuddered just thinking about how much crap Scott would have given her if he’d seen it.

She smiled, never one to waste a good opportunity. Poor Liam had no idea what he’d just done.

**

It took no time to get ready. True to her word she turned on a vid, nothing Christmas-ey, but a cheesy rom-com to help with the mood. Camille waited patiently. She’d let her hair down knowing Liam loved that, found her thick, white wool socks she used in her boots, donned the terrible sweater and a ridiculous pair of novelty snowman panties and nothing else.

Liam emerged from the bathroom, dressed in comfy reindeer pajama pants, but the smirk wiped from his face the second he noticed her draped across the couch. He took her in from top to bottom before he spoke, “Wow, that’s a damn sight worse than I thought.”

“You mean,” she asked in a sultry tone pretending innocence, “this doesn’t turn you on?”

“Um…no. That was a mistake I regret.”

“What about now?” she activated the obnoxious blinking lights and waited for his reaction.

“Well, now…” he chuckled shaking his head, “now I think the only option we have to to get you out of it quickly and toss it into the vacuum of space.”

“How dare you!” she shrieked in mock upset, “This is my favorite gift, and you will have it over my dead body.”

Liam rose his brow, knowing a challenge when he heard it, “Oh, I’ll have it over your body alright.” He lunged for her, twisting her body around so she wouldn’t be crushed under his weight.

She sat atop him, legs straddling his hips. She was about to say something sure to put her on Santa’s naughty list for the next year when the door swung open. Scott strolled in and stopped dead in his tracks as took in the scene before him.

“I don’t even want to know. Kosta, you need some help man.” He couldn’t look Camille in the eyes, but continued, “I knew you were violating my sister, but this is one weird ass kink, bro.”

“Um, Merry Christmas, Scotty. I love you.” Camille shouted at his retreating back as he turned on his heel and walked out. She looked down at Liam, smacking him lightly on his chest, “See what you did, you scarred my little brother.” She gave him a wide smile.

“Serves him right.” he kissed his way up her jawline, “everyone knows everything about you is my kink.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Kosta”