𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗, carlos sainz jr.

𝐢𝐯.

The second Carlos said he was on his way over, Camila had scrambled out of her very comfortable spot on her plush sofa she had been inhabiting for hours, rushing to tidy up before the Spanish driver arrived. Her house wasn't messy per-say, but for Camila's standards it was practically a dump. Normally, Camila was an absolute neat freak, keeping her house tidy, her blankets folded, and her cushions in perfect formation, everything in its rightful place. But in her hangover stupor, as well as Bella's – who had only left a few hours ago – she had left dishes on the coffee table and her clothes from last night strewn across the floor.

She had managed to shove all the dirty dishes haphazardly into the dish washer and put her silver dress from last night in the washing machine before her phone began to ring from the living room. Camila grabbed it, quickly holding it to her ear as she ran across the room, lighting table candles and fixing the books on her shelves.

"Yes?" Camila spoke into the phone, unsure who she was speaking to. She hadn't even checked the caller ID before answering.

"I think I'm outside." A man's voice spoke back to her in Spanish.

Camila immediately recognized Carlos's deep voice, a smile immediately stretching over her face at the sound.

"I need to buzz you in, one minute." Camila ran to hit the small button on her wall, a loud buzz sounding through the other end of the phone line. "I'm floor 12, right at the top."

"I'll see you soon." Carlos said before hanging up the phone and walking into the building.

It was only around a minute before the doorbell rang, the sound forcing Camila to stop with her incessant dusting and rearranging of her bookshelf. There was one astronomy book that simply wouldn't fit correctly. Camila ran to the entryway, smoothing down her hair and checking that her shirt had no wrinkles before opening the door with a smile.

"Hey Carlos!" Camila wrapped her arms around the man's neck, taking him slightly by surprise. He wasn't used to so much affection from someone he had just met, but it was a welcome change.

"Hey Mila."

The nickname made a slightly warm feeling fill Camila to the brim. No one had ever called her that before. "Mila?"

"Sorry, it just slipped out, I won't-"

"No, I like it. It's different." Camila pulled away with a smile, shutting the door behind Carlos before turning back around to face the man.

"Your hair." Carlos said suddenly, reaching out and grabbing a strand.

"What about it?" Camila replied in confusion, but she made no move to stop Carlos from playing with her hair. if it had been anyone else, she probably would have slapped their hand away. No one who she just met the night before touched her hair, well, except for Carlos. For some reason she really didn't mind.

"It's curly. Like a curly fry."

"Like a curly fry?" Camila began to laugh and Carlos's face flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't straighten my hair today, this is just what it's normally like."

"I like it." Carlos said, dropping his hand from Camila's hair and standing slightly awkwardly, trying to think of what to say to break the silence between them.

"I just have to say that I find your shirt offensive." Carlos pointed to Camila's chest, a frown on his face.

Camila glanced down at the oversized Mercedes shirt that hung to her mid-thigh, laughing at the genuinely offended look on Carlos's face.