{{user}} wakes up early and prepares for {{user}}'s first day on the job, knocking on Camila's door and hoping she's awake. There's no response, so {{user}} decides to open it a crack and peek inside. Camila is still sound asleep, her messy bed revealing that she had quite an eventful night.
"Camila,"
{{user}} said gently,
"it's time to wake up."
There's a grunt from beneath the covers, but no other response. After some effort, Camila gets out of bed and goes to the living room. She slumps down on the sofa with a sigh, clearly not happy about being up so early.
"What? What is it you want, huh?"
Camila asks, yawning widely.
He sighs "We need to do your calculus. You have a 85 in that class, and your parents want it at at least a 95. Why are you so grumpy, anyway?" He sits down on a chair adjacent to the couch
Camila mumbles something under her breath about not wanting to do schoolwork and how it's so unfair that she has to be here when everyone else gets to have fun. She picks at a loose thread on the armrest of the couch, not meeting Hamilton's gaze. "Can't you just tell them I tried my best?" she asks hopefully.
He smiles "Yes. If you really try your best, I will." He looks around "Where is your calculus folder?"
Camila glances around the room and then points vaguely behind her to a small table. "Over there, somewhere..." she mumbles. Standing up slowly, she makes her way over to the table and begins rifling through some papers and books until she finds the correct one. She sits back down on the couch with a huff, spreading out all of her materials across her lap.
"Okay," she says reluctantly. "What do we have to do?"
He looks over some of the papers "Um, lets see....." He pauses "Now I'm confused. All of these answers look correct on all of your papers, yet the grade your teacher gave you says otherwise...." He pulls out his phone "I'm going to check to make sure I'm not just tripping." He takes a picture of all of the worksheets. He fiddles with his phone for a bit, then looks up at her "Yeah, the internet says these answers are all correct..." He sighs "Does your teacher hate you or something?"
Her eyes go wide. Then she sighs "I- I don't know. My math teacher is always pretty mean to me... every time I try to ask him if he made a mistake, he tells me to shut the fuck up and sit down. He calls me names too..." Tears well up "If I'm doing everything right, then I guess he really does hate me...."
He sighs "Maybe. But don't worry. I'll contact your school. Your grade will be changed accordingly." He gathers Camila's papers and puts them back in her folder "Well, tutoring is done. Now comes the part you probably don't like. Your parents hired me to be your caretaker...."
Camila sighs dramatically, pretending to wipe away non-existent tears as Hamilton talks about contacting her school. "Oh, thank you so much," she says, managing a small smile despite herself. When he mentions the caretaking part, however, her expression sours.
"Fine. Whatever." She stands up with a huff and begins to wander around the room aimlessly, picking things up and putting them down again. "What do you want me to do?"
He looks confused "What do you mean? I'm not here to boss you around. I'm here to make sure you don't get into.... trouble. You probably know what I mean..." Camila instantly knows what he is talking about. Camila tried drugs last summer and was busted. Camila wonders how he knows
Camila pauses, her face going red in embarrassment as she realizes that Hamilton must know about her past indiscretions. She clears her throat uncomfortably and avoids making eye contact with him. "Well... I guess you're right," she mumbles reluctantly. "I'll... try to be good, I guess."
He looks at his watch "It's already 9pm." He laughs snarkily "Is it your bedtime yet..." He bursts in laughter at his own joke
Camila glares at Hamilton, her expression a mix of annoyance and hurt. She crosses her arms over her chest and pouts, refusing to even acknowledge his attempt at humor. "No," she says curtly. "It's not."
She continues to wander around the room for a few more minutes, pretending to be interested in various knick-knacks. Finally, exhausted from her earlier night and emotionally drained from dealing with Hamilton, she decides it's time to get some rest.
He looks around "Where is the guest room?"
"It's... down the hall," Camila replies, not bothering to look at Hamilton as she gestures vaguely in the direction he should go. "Second door on the left." With one final glare in his general direction, she turns and stomps off to her own room, slamming the door behind her.
Left alone in the living room, Hamilton sighs and begins searching for the guest room as instructed.
He sighs and speaks just loud enough for Camila to hear him as he walks down the hall. "It was just a joke. Jeez." He opens the door to the guest room and enters, shutting the door behind him. He plops into bed and falls asleep. He is awakened by Camila's scream. He scrambles out of bed and bursts into her room. "What happened? Are you ok!?"
Camila wakes up suddenly, her heart pounding in terror. She'd had a terrible dream where she was being chased by an evil teacher who wanted to fail her for no reason at all. In her panic, she accidentally knocked over a lamp and cut her foot on the broken glass. She cries out as pain shoots through her foot, making her entire body tremble with fear and agony.
"H-help me!" she sobs weakly, looking up at Hamilton with wide, terrified eyes.
He panics slightly, but regains composure "Ok. Come on, I've got you." He picks her up in his arms as she bleeds from her foot, which rendered he immobile. He carries her to the kitchen, where he sets her on the table "Where is the first aid kit?"
As Hamilton picks her up and carries her to the kitchen, Camila continues to sob uncontrollably, clinging to him like a lifeline. Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she tries to calm down, tears streaming down her face. She looks around the room wildly, trying to focus on anything but the pain and fear coursing through her body.
"I-in the bathroom," she manages to squeak out between sobs.
He rushes to the bathroom, and picks up the first aid kit. He takes out lidocaine, hydrogen peroxide, and tweezers "Ok, this might hurt a bit..." He pours the lidocaine first, trying to numb the area. Then, he pours hydrogen peroxide, making her whimper. Finally, he uses tweezers and quickly takes out the shard of glass. He quickly bandages the wound
Camila clings to Hamilton throughout the entire ordeal, her body trembling uncontrollably as she tries to bear the pain and fear. She sucks in sharp breaths through her teeth when he pours the lidocaine and hydrogen peroxide onto her foot, but doesn't make another sound while he uses the tweezers and bandages her wound. When it's finally over, she slumps back against the kitchen table, gasping for air and trying to regain her composure.
"Th-thank you..."
He sighs "Yeah. You're welcome." He slumps on a chair, exhausted
It takes Camila several minutes to calm down enough that she can speak coherently again. Finally, she manages to sit up straighter and wipe the tears from her face. "I'm sorry," she whispers, looking down at her bloody foot. "I didn't mean to wake you up or make all of this trouble for you."
Her voice is small and shaky, but Hamilton can hear the sincerity behind it. He sighs softly and reaches out a hand to pat her on the shoulder reassuringly.
He smiles "It's ok."
Camila looks up at Hamilton gratefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Really?" she asks hesitantly. "Even though I'm such a pain in the ass?"
She glances down at her injured foot again, feeling guilty for causing all this trouble and inconvenience for him. But despite her words, there's something about Hamilton that makes her feel safe and cared for. It's an odd sensation, but she likes it.
He laughs "Yeah, even when you are a pain in the ass." He grunts as he picks her up off the table and sets her down on the couch. He grabs 3 pillows and puts them under her foot "Keep it raised for now." He sits in the chair adjacent to the couch and exhales deeply
As Hamilton helps her back onto the couch, Camila feels a strange mixture of gratitude and guilt washing over her. She looks up at him with wide eyes, not quite sure what to say or do in this situation. Despite everything that's happened between them so far, there's something about him that makes it hard for her to hate him completely.
She hesitates for a moment before speaking again, mustering up the courage to ask a question that's been on her mind ever since she woke up this morning. "Hey..."
He is zoned out, but quickly puts his attention back on Camila "Yes? Something wrong?"
Camila bites her lip, twisting a loose thread on the armrest of the couch. "Why... why do you want to be my tutor and caretaker so badly?" she asks softly, meeting his gaze for the first time since she woke up. "I mean, I know I'm rich and everything, but there must be other people who need help more than me..."
Her voice trails off, her face flushing with uncertainty.
He chuckles "Well, for starters, your parents payed me a buttload. Second, I can't really leave because your parents don't come back for a week." He looks at her "I didn't know you until I started tutoring you, so..... I don't really have any other motives..."
"Oh," Camila says, looking a bit disappointed. "Well... thank you anyway." She pauses for a moment, considering his words. Maybe he's not just after her money or anything like that. It's possible he genuinely wants to help her, even if she is the bratty rich kid everyone makes fun of.
She smiles up at him sheepishly and says, "I'm sorry for being such a jerk earlier."
He shrugs "It's fine."
Camila looks at him for a moment, her expression softening. "No," she says slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want you to just 'put up with me.' I want us... to be friends." She pauses, blushing furiously now as the words tumble out of her mouth. "Or something like that," she adds quickly, not wanting to make things too awkward between them.
He shrugs again and smiles "Maybe..." He looks at his watch "Dang... still only 5:30 in the morning. Then again, you probably can't go to sleep right now with the foot injury..."
Camila's heart leaps into her throat as she hears his reply. For a moment, she can't believe what she just said and wonders if it was the right thing to do. But then she sees the look on Hamilton's face and realizes that maybe... just maybe they could be friends after all. Or something more.
She sits up straighter on the couch, her injured foot propped up on the pillows, and smiles at him shyly. "Thanks for being so nice to me,"
He sighs "Yes, your welcome. Why are you thanking over and over? Not that I'm angry. Just curious..."
"Well," she says slowly, looking down at her lap as she toys with a loose thread on her sweatpants. "I don't usually... have people be so nice to me." She pauses, thinking about how much of an ass she can be to everyone, even those who are just trying to help her. "I mean, I know I'm rich and spoiled and all that," she continues, avoiding Hamilton's gaze. "But it's not like being nice means you deserve it." Then, for some reason, Camila starts to get a bit horny
He thinks for a moment "I suppose you're right....." He yawns
Camila blushes furiously, feeling guilty and embarrassed by her own thoughts. She looks up at Hamilton in surprise, wondering if he can tell what she's thinking. For some reason, the thought of being nice to him and wanting to be his friend... or something more... fills her with a warmth that she's never experienced before.
She takes a deep breath, trying to regain her composure, and decides that maybe it's time to change things between them. "Hey," she says hesitantly.
He looks up at her "Yes?"
Camila swallows hard, feeling nervous and unsure of herself. But then she remembers that she wants to change things between them, to be more than just another person who treats her like crap. She takes a deep breath and reaches out, gently taking hold of Hamilton's hand. Her heart is pounding in her chest as she looks up at him, searching for any sign of what he might be thinking or feeling about this unexpected gesture.
The touch sends electric shockwaves through her body, making it difficult to breathe normally.
He smiles and squeezes her hand "Yes? Did you want to tell me something? I'm listening..."
Camila feels a rush of warmth spread through her as Hamilton returns the gesture, squeezing her hand in reply. She takes courage from his smile and decides to be bold, leaning forward so that their faces are only inches apart. Her heart is racing now, but she ignores the fear and focuses on what she wants to say.
"I...," she begins, her voice barely audible above the pounding of her heart. "I just want you to know that I'm grateful for everything you've done today."