The Instagram live (Camila/you)

21

"Babe?" Camila murmurs, voice muffled against the sweatshirt you were wearing. You were both currently lounging on your bed, the tv opposite playing reruns of Rizzoli and Isles. It was the killer in high heels episode. One of your favourites.

It was her first day off in just under a month, and it was a welcomed relief to be close to her after spending so long apart. You'd actually planned to spend the whole weekend together, and you were looking forward to catching up on all the hugs and kisses you'd missed out on. You knew Camila was too if the way she hadn't stopped clinging to you was anything to go by.

At her question, you hum in acknowledgement as your hand grazes softly over her warm skin.

She shuffles slightly against you, "Is it...can I take a shower?" The hand that wasn't gripping your shirt was resting on her stomach, and you frown in concern as you sit her up and place your hand on top of it.

"Of course. You don't have to ask. Are you okay?" You brush her bangs away from her flushed face, and that's when you feel just how warm her skin was to the touch.

Your frown deepens. Was she not feeling well?

Bottom lip trapped between her teeth, she nods her head and flickers her eyes up to meet yours, "Yeah, just, I don't think I feel well." She murmurs, confirming your thoughts.

"Okay," you whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead before rising to your feet, "Go get in the shower. I'll go get you some medicine and comfy clothes." Holding out your hand, you wait for her to take it before leading her through to the bathroom. It was then you see the bathtub, and you contemplate on whether or not that might be better. "Would you rather a bath? Is it your stomach that hurts?"

Camila simply shrugs her shoulders, eyes shiny and bottom lip trembling.

"No baby, don't cry," With the hand still entwined with her own, you tug her close and allow her to fall into your arms, "Do you want to go home?" You ask, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. You knew when you were sick, all you wanted was to be in the comfort of your own home and bed. Being any place else just made you feel worse.

But she sniffles and shakes her head, her hands clinging tightly to the back of your shirt.

"Okay," bringing a hand up to cup the back of her head, you allow your fingers to comb carefully through her hair. You feel your shirt growing significantly more damp as the minutes pass, and your heart all but breaks for her.

"Go sit on the toilet seat and I'll fill the tub." You murmur. You wanted to continue holding her, but a hot bath to settle her stomach was most probably needed first.

She nods, but her hands nor body move. Keeping your arms around her, you walk her backwards and ease her down onto the closed toilet seat. You then kneel down in front of her, leaning forward to press a kiss to her wet cheek before reaching over to put the stopper in the tub. After making sure the water was at a good temperature, you bring your attention back to your unwell girlfriend.

"Arms up baby." Gentle hands tug at the bottom of her shirt.

Camila sighs softly and lifts her arms, allowing you to pull it from her body and toss it into the laundry basket. Left in just a white lacy bralette, you coax her to her feet before tugging down her pants and underwear, putting those into the wash too. Keeping her on her feet, you help her out her last piece of clothing before reaching over to stop the water. Arms settle around your waist, and you appease her for a second by holding her close and pressing your lips in a lingering kiss to the top of her head.

After a few silent minutes, you say, "In you get." as you offer out your hands.

Camila sniffles quietly as she takes them and allows herself to be helped into the tub. You don't let go of her until she's sat, and even then, you were reluctant to let go and allow your hands to linger over warm skin for a few seconds longer than necessary.