you make me sick (for being so perfect)

Seventy Three.

"Can we go for a walk?"

Lauren glances up from her book, frowning over at her girlfriend. "It's midnight."

"I know," Camila answers, "we should go on an adventure. Even if it's just down the road."

"Um... okay," Lauren shrugs and marks her place in her book, "I will not get dressed, though. I'm comfortable in my Simba onesie, and I doubt there will be anyone around."

Camila laughs. "Even if there is, it'll be funny to see their reactions. Come on, Lolo."

Lauren stands up, and watches as Camila grabs one of her sweaters out of a drawer. Lauren frowns, because she hadn't said Camila could borrow a sweater, but she's okay with it, because Camila smells nice, so her sweater won't smell a bad different afterwards, and she wants her girlfriend to be warm.

"Wow," Camila laughs as she pulls on the oversized sweater, and glances at herself in the mirror, "this sweater is so big that I'm not even wearing it. It is wearing me."

Lauren frowns, but she can't check the label for the size, because she always cuts it out. "It's probably only a large or a medium. Lots of the time I get a large though, because in some stores, I'm a medium, and in others I'm a small, and I always get a size up so they're comfy and I can flap with the sleeves."

Camila snorts as she looks at herself in the mirror. "I'm usually an extra small if it's unisex. Which I'm assuming this is."

"Yes, I always buy unisex products, or I shop in the men's section, because sometimes clothes in the women's are weirdly sized, and I don't like the way they fit me." Lauren explains, pulling up the hood on her Simba onesie. "I personally don't think clothing has a gender, though. It's just clothing."

"You're right," Camila smiles, "it is. I mean, sometimes I want to dress like a princess and all that cheesy stuff, but most of the time I want to steal your sweaters, because they smell like you. It's like I'm getting a constant Lolo lion hug."

Lauren frowns at her. "If you want a hug, just ask for one."

"I ask for hugs when I want them," Camila says, "it's just like, wearing your clothes is a perpetual hug from you. Like you're hugging me and not letting go. If you actually did that, it'd be kind of impractical."

"It would?" Lauren frowns, and Camila nods in reply. "Oh. Yes, you're probably right. Anyway, where would you like to walk? I think it'd be nice to go to the beach."

"We can't walk to the beach at this time." Camila points out, "It'd take us a decade to get there, because I'd probably want to stop for snacks every ten minutes."

"Well, we can drive!" Lauren suggests, "We can drive to the beach and then park there, because all of the good parking spots will be available, and then we can go on a nice walk on the beach."

Camila laughs as Lauren tugs her downstairs and puts her shoes on, and when her girlfriend stands up, she can't help but smile. Lauren's wearing scuffed pair of Converse and dressed in nothing but a Simba onesie, and Camila can't think of a time she's ever seen anything cuter.

"Okay, Simba," Camila teases her, "a walk on the beach is fine by me."

"My name isn't Simba," Lauren answers with a frown, "It's Lauren. You know that."

"I know," Camila laughs, "but you're dressed like Simba. That onesie is so realistic that it's hard for me to differentiate."

"Oh," Lauren answers, tapping on her leg as Camila ushers her into the car, "well, it's still me, Lauren."