Cameron Loves Mia: Epiphany

"-and I feel like I shouldn't HAVE to say this but please, DO NOT get ANY of your source material from Wikipedia, okay? That is NOT a reliable source. No dot-com's."

The instructor could barely be heard over the sound of students packing up for the day.

"And make sure your sources are cited CORRECTLY, alright? Have a good weekend guys, see ya' Monday."

Cameron was already halfway out of the door by then. He'd learned his lesson after last time; he wasn't going to be late again. Just as he was rushing past the afternoon class crowd, he heard a familiar voice that made him stop in his tracks, causing someone else to bump into him.

"Oh-sorry," he said, absentmindedly.

He turned and quickly hid just out of site of her. There, sitting with a group of thespians dressed for rehearsal, was Mia, throwing her head back in wild laughter.

"If I gotta clean that costume again, I'm fuckin' you up!" She said, slowly walking away from the group.

"Aw, you promise?" One of them asked. The rest of the group laughed.

"Swear to god, bitch, I ain't playin' witchu!" She shouted back, pointing at the one covered in prosthetic scars.

"I love you, bitch!" They shouted back at her.

"I love you!" She shouted over her shoulder, making her way toward the edge of campus.

Cameron didn't want to run into anyone they knew; if another person asked about him and Mia, he wouldn't know what to say anymore. He made sure to stay out of sight and trailed her out into the sunlight. He was mesmerized by the way she carried herself; headphones hidden in her massive set of loose curls, boxer briefs peaking out of the waistband of her baggy jeans, rhythm decorating her every step.

Up until now, he could never figure out why he shied away from tomboys before: did he want to be WITH them or BE them? He'd always been envious of the level of honesty that energy carried. Why restrict yourself to one or the other when you can embody both with confidence? He realized now what it was that appealed to him: who she was on the outside, he wanted to be within. Suave, unbothered, bold, effortless, unapologetic.

He waited until she reached the parking lot sidewalk before catching up to her, lightly tugging at the afro keychain hanging from her backpack. Mia whipped around to see Cameron, wearing a vintage letterman jacket and a shy smile. Her smile grew wide.

"Hey, Cam!"

"Happy Friday," he said.

"Happy Friday! Yuh!" She replied with excitement, giving him a goofy dap-up. He chuckled.

"Was that your theatre class back there?"

"Yeah," she said, as they continued walking side by side. "Did they scare you?"

"Nah, a lil' freaky lookin' though. One of 'em was covered in a bunch of scars and shit, what's that about?" He asked. She laughed.

"Yeah, we were practicin' makeup for dress rehearsal. I swear to god, if that bitch gets spirit gum on her fuckin' costume one more time, I'm just gon' burn it off. That shit is IMPOSSIBLE to remove."

She took off her headphones and stuffed them into her bag, trading them for a pre-roll and a lighter.

"How was English?" She asked.

"Eh. I feel like I'm just waitin' for everybody else to catch up. I might have to go back to admin 'n see if I can fast-track some of these classes. They won't even let me take creative writing 'til I finish the required shit. Fuckin' bogus."

"College is a fuckin' scam, dude," she chuckled.

"We don't gotta come back here 'til Monday anyway, wanna come over?" She asked, holding the blunt between her lips.

"Sure." He replied.

"Shoes off, bags down, you know the drill." Mia said, as she threw her keys into their holder.

Cameron closed the door behind him and took off his shoes. This had become his new favorite place. Last time he was here, they were blasting music in the living room, dancing barefoot on the hardwood floor, and singing off key from the top of their lungs. There was a sense of child-like freedom here that he'd never felt anywhere else. No matter where he was or what he was doing, his mind always found its way back here, with her.

He walked into her bedroom just as she finished opening the curtains, allowing the sunlight to bathe her ebony skin. She then opened the window and took a seat on the futon, blowing smoke through the screen.

"Cam?" She asked.

"Wassup?" He replied, removing his jacket as he sat down next to her.

"When did you know?"

"Know what?" He asked, a bit confused.

"Well, it wasn't 'love at first sight,' was it? I mean, there had to be a moment where it just hit you and you were like, 'ahh, fuck.'" She laughed. He chuckled.

"Hm," he thought for a moment as he reached for the blunt in her hand.

He took a long drag and blew the smoke out of the window before he answered.

"Toward the end of last semester," he finally spoke.

"Really?" She asked, a bit puzzled, "I thought you were still gettin' over the breakup 'n everything, what happened?"

Cameron stood in front of the class, his heartbeat ringing in his ears as a silent classroom waited for him to speak. He'd memorized his assigned monologue in full, and yet there he stood, one line in, trying and failing to overcome his stage fright. After only 30 seconds of silence, his panic overtook him, and he rushed to his seat. As the instructor called for the next performance, he hung his head in shame at his desk, cursing his nerves for betraying him after weeks of preparation.

As he attempted to hide his failure underneath the hood of his jacket, he felt a warm, gentle hand on his back, softly rubbing back and forth across his shoulders. He peaked from underneath his hoodie to see Mia, who flashed him a quick, sympathetic grin, before returning her attention to the front of the class. Misty-eyed, he lowered his head again, wondering what he'd ever done to deserve such kindness.

The following week, they received a new assignment.

"Now, for this one, you'll wanna pair up, okay? So, if you already know who you wanna work with, go ahead and team up now; if you don't, stick around and we'll get you guys teamed up with whoever's left, sound good?"

As people started making their way to their desired areas, Cameron decided to stay put. He wasn't really the public speaking type; he'd much rather be alone in a room with nothing but a pen, some paper, and his own thoughts. Suddenly, he felt a familiar, soft hand tap his shoulder. It was Mia again, motioning for him to join her. But, why? She had other friends in class she was more familiar with, why hadn't she paired up with any of them?

"Well, some people know how to handle anxiety better than others, y'know," she stated.

They had settled themselves in at one of the rear corners of the classroom.

"Theatre only works for me 'cause I can use the nerves as fuel most of the time. Am I nervous? Hell yeah! All the time." She laughed, unwrapping a piece of food from its plastic.

"But, since I'm already pretendin' to be somebody else, it's not actually ME up there, y'know? So, it's a lot easier to separate myself from the people just... STARING at me." She took a bite of her sandwich and offered him the second half.

"Ya' wan' shum? Ish turkey." He looked at her hand for a moment, completely baffled by how friendly she still was.

He thought he'd made things weird before; Mia was the only one who helped him get out of class when he randomly broke down during warm-ups. He thought that maybe she was just 'taking one for the team' so the class could get back to work. Apparently, she was just... ALWAYS like this?

Over the next couple of weeks, they ran lines, rehearsed blocking, and even threw in some light costumes and props for the assignment. When the day came to perform, she gave him a pep-talk as they waited just outside the door of the classroom.

"You nervous?" She asked.

"Hell yeah," he spat out. She giggled.

"Well, look, this time, you' not up there by yaself, okay? You remember how it felt when it was just the two of us rehearsin', right?"

"Yeah."

"And you got it down just fine! You ain't tripped over your lines in, like, two days! It's not like you're unprepared, right?" He couldn't answer, he was too busy wiping the sweat from his palms.

She got closer to him, grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, and looked directly into his eyes, demanding his fullest attention.

"These are just a bunch of shitty ass students, just like us, okay? No need to be perfect or impress anybody. If you start to slip up, just look my way, okay? I'm right up there with you. We gon' get this shit done and over with so we don't have to think about it no more, aight?"

He chuckled, then nodded. Suddenly, they heard applause coming from inside.

"Aight, our turn. You ready?"

"Nope," he admitted.

"Neither am I," she replied, and opened the door.

"Next up: Mia and Cameron."

"-and you fuckin' CRUSHED it!" She said, lightly slapping his leg. "No stuttering or anything!"

"Yeah, but that was only 'cause of you. I thought about droppin' the class before then, but you helped me finish it, AND I got to keep my GPA."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't want you goin' around thinking there was sum'n WRONG witchu just 'cause you got nervous, y'know?" She stated.

"Most people treat it as a bullshit elective, anyway. Failing theatre's like failing PE," she laughed.

"C'mere," he said, scooting his way closer to her.

Before she could make room, he grabbed both of her legs, only lifting them high enough to get his legs underneath. He draped her legs over his own, and rubbed her thigh with one hand as he spoke.

"That day changed me. I was so scared of bein' anything less than perfect, I started fuckin' up EVERYTHING. You reminded me how imperfect EVERYONE was, y'know? That meant sum'n to me. Since then, all I been doin' was just... tryna repay that."

"Why would you?" she asked, almost offended at the thought that he would ever owe her anything.

"'Cause it's not just about the nerves, Mia. I carried that shit with me EVERYWHERE. I stopped tryna be perfect. My writer's block was gone, gettin' over my ex got SO much easier, and I started gettin' back into competitions again. 'Cause I ain't scared of fuckin' up no more, I'on get down on myself when I do; I just take the L and keep it pushin'."

"I'm proud of you," she said, briefly squeezing the hand on her thigh before reaching for the blunt he was nursing.

"I think that's what did it," he stated, wearing a gentle grin.

"The pep-talk?" She asked, inhaling smoke.

"Nah. After the performance was over, you gave me the biggest hug... and that's whatchu said."

"That I'm proud of you?"

"Yeah. I mean, we ain't even get our grade 'til the next day, but you said, 'Fuck them grades, you ACCOMPLISHED something!' That's what did it."

Mia's face softened. He continued, trying his hardest to keep the frog buried in his throat.

"That feeling you gave me made me realize sum'n..."

He gently took the blunt from her mouth, inhaled deeply, and placed it back between her lips, letting the smoke leave his mouth as he spoke.

"Nobody I ever dated made me feel like that. You celebrated me."

He exhaled. They sat in silence for a while, appreciating the closeness they shared as they finished smoking.

"It ain't hard, you know," Mia spoke up.

"Hm?"

"A lotta people walk around thinkin' they' hard to love. Hell, I'm still one of those people. But witchu, it ain't hard at all. Y'know why?"

Cameron shook his head.

"It's 'cause you TRY. Why you think I was celibate for so damn long? So many niggas made it seem like I was 'so hard to love' just 'cause they didn't wanna try. After a while, I just stopped lookin' for love and started... LIVIN' it, y'know? That's what makes it easy. Nobody should ever feel guilty for fallin' short if they try, man. You were brave enough to try. I admire that about you," she said, the sweetest smile spreading across her face.

With one fell swoop, Cameron took Mia's face in one hand, her waist in the other, and kissed her so intensely it took her breath away.

"What was that for?" She giggled.

"You almost made me cry," he laughed, pitifully.

"I didn't mean to!"

"Oh, don't worry. I'mma get my lick back."

He then hoisted her completely off of the futon, firmly gripping her posterior with both hands. She held onto him for dear life, shouting and giggling as he walked her to the side of her bed and sat down, landing her right on top of his lap.

It was then that she noticed how stiff he was. He couldn't help it. It wasn't her body that turned him on; her loving kindness made more than his heart swell. It was delightfully painful what she was able to do to him by simply just being herself. Like the satisfaction felt after a fresh tattoo, he knew her mark would be permanent, and he was proud to have finally seen it through, no matter how painful the process had been.

He looked up at her with tenderness in his eyes as he held her in his arms.

"You're so beautiful to me," he sighed, "Never change."

She watched his eyes well up as she held his flushed face in her hands. She couldn't promise him that, but she did know one thing: her pride in him was endless. He held her tighter as she pressed herself against him, kissing him softly.

At this very moment, she'd never felt more beautiful.

Cameron's hands slowly traveled up Mia's spine, brushing past the ends of her curls. The faintest sigh escaped his lips as she kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He could feel himself melting into a puddle beneath her warmth, still in disbelief at who he held in his arms. With each kiss, he grew more and more intoxicated with her, and the world around them began to disappear.

She grew more frustrated with every second; her hands were desperate for his skin, but all she could feel was his tee-shirt. She tugged at it helplessly, silently begging for his assistance.

He stood up, still holding her ass in his hands, and slowly brought her to her feet. Her hands traveled up his torso, but she hesitated for a moment, forcing him to remove his shirt. She was awe-struck by what she saw: a blanket of fine body hair covering him from chest to navel, slight muscular indents underneath a thick layer of body fat, and a tattoo of a songbird directly over his heart. She lost herself in his skin, lightly tracing over the bird with her fingertips. He watched her do this, his heart racing at the thought of being truly explored.

She reached her hands around his waist, tucked them into his waistband, and pulled him in close, planting a tender kiss on his tattoo. His head fell back a bit in response; he couldn't bare to let her see how weak this made him.

She took her time with him, decorating him in lip-gloss as she kissed her way down his torso. Impressively, she unbuttoned his jeans with one hand and gripped them with the other, dragging them down in one fluid motion as she lowered herself to her knees. As if she were carefully unwrapping a gift, she savored the moment and slowly removed his boxers. There he was, standing at full attention, in all of his dripping glory. Engorged and pleading, he twitched for her in anticipation. She took a moment to admire him, his natural musk washing over her.

Mia took hold of Cameron's massive thighs to steady herself, gripping them tightly. She stared up at him, determined not to break eye contact as she stuck out her tongue. He bent his index finger and put it into his mouth, biting down on his knuckle as he watched her approach. She brought her face closer to his heated length and placed her tongue on the underside of his shaft, ever-so-slowly licking her way up to his moistened head, making sure to taste the precum leaking from him.

"Fffff-ck," he whispered, muffled by the knuckle in his mouth.

Her lips closed around him as she slowly sucked him in, lubricating him with her tongue. He let out a shakey breath, trying not to lose balance; nothing could've prepared him for this.

She increased the pressure in her mouth, locking him in as he entangled his free hand into her messy curls. She was gentle with him, moving her tongue back and forth around his pulsating head with every motion. He watched in tortured bliss as she kept her eyes locked on him. A deep, low growl purred past his lips as he grew larger in her mouth. She looked stunning from this angle, with coiled locks draping over her eyebrows, her lust-filled eyes staring into his soul.

He couldn't take it anymore; the intensity of her siren's stare made his blood burn white hot. He gripped the roots of her hair and gingerly pulled her back to her feet. Eagerly, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, kissing her with a passionate hunger as he reached for the bottom of her shirt.

He pulled her shirt over her head, carefully freeing it from her hair. He breathlessly took in the view: a simple, black-laced bralette covering her heaving chest, a mound of pudge surrounding her navel, and a floral tattoo covering a small appendix scar. He adored the way she decorated herself, turning her battles into beauty. He traced his thumb over the scar as he tucked his hands into the waistband of her boxer briefs, sliding them over her hips and pulling her pants down with them.

She pulled her ankles free from the pile of clothing at her feet as he sat down again. She then returned to his lap, nestling his pride in between her thighs. She ran her fingers through his locs and stared into his eyes, with no intention to rush. He leaned into her hands and allowed his eyes to close as he caressed her thighs, unable to keep his hands to himself. As he leaned his head back, he felt her teeth graze his neck, and the warm moisture of her lips followed. He grunted softly, tightening his grip on her as he sank deeper into himself.

She could feel his girth swelling beneath her; whatever she was doing to him was working. She closed her eyes, holding his head in her hand as she continued to lick and kiss the curve of his neck. His scent was warm, smelling of cedar, cinnamon, and a hint of citrus. More than anything, she wanted to consume him; she wouldn't be satisfied until every bone in his body screamed her name.

His breathing got heavier, and she didn't know why until she realized she wasn't controlling her body anymore. How long had she been grinding against him like this? She wasn't sure, but she didn't care. Her soft spot was wet and grooling, leaving his lover's toy covered in her slick desire. She lifted her hips slightly, leaving just enough room for her to shift him into position.

"Look at me," she whispered.

His eyes snapped open, meeting her longing gaze almost instantly. She grabbed hold of him down below, running circles around her entrance with him.

"Fuck..." He whispered, struggling to keep his eyes from rolling back.

She watched every muscle in his face morph and shift in response to her, and she wanted more... SO much more.

She waited, watching as the anticipation consumed him. He furrowed his brow, begging her with his eyes. She wouldn't make him say it, but dammit, if she didn't love watching him squirm. She watched the torture drive him mad, and as soon as it felt like he was ready to give up, she invited him in.

His mouth slightly agape, he felt her warm, pulsating tunnel stretch around him. As she worked her way down, she fought tooth and nail not to focus on the sensation of her insides filling with him. Instead, she watched his face closely as his eyes went completely white for a moment.

"Uuuugh, huhh," he sighed helplessly, as pleasure quickly overtook him.

Cameron looked up at Mia with wild eyes, surprised at how slippery she already was.

"Mmmnh," she moaned as she received his last inch, allowing her full weight to rest into him.

Refusing to move a muscle, she grabbed his face with one hand, wrapping the other arm around his shoulders for support. He gripped a heavy cheek in one hand and held onto her back with the other, keeping her steady. She stared into him, her dark brown eyes daring him to give in to her, to surrender to his senses completely, to drown in her.