AMELIA

"Come," I hear the soft voice urging, and feel kisses on my face. His hair brushes my skin. It's a good feeling to be awakened by.

A smile takes over my face without me opening my eyes; being fed breakfast with my favorite scent is everything I could ask for. I normally hate when my sleep gets interrupted, but when it has to do with Cameron, I am gladly up for it.

It is Saturday, a day to take a break from all the criticism and hatred that I endure for a week-long over just being loved by the school's most popular man.

Well, even the thought makes me blush. Yeah, I am loved by Cameron, and that's enough for me.

His lips tenderly peck mine, my smile spreads at the delicate gesture, and he does it again and again until my eyes open to meet his morning hair curtains his forehead, pure luscious and lively forest green eyes watching me admirably. He has nothing on except for his sweatpants. I grab his face in my hands just because I can't resist.

"Get up, let's go." He smirks, winking. His breath is so appetizing against my face.

"Where?" I laugh, definitely turning red under his gaze.

"Put my t-shirt on." He gets up and grabs my hand, giving me a light pull to sit up. I am not wearing anything, not even panties. Last night we had been quite busy after his pull-ups; he had me locked around his waist, holding onto him while he did impressive reps.

With his other hand, he holds out the white material that I bet would swallow me entirely to cover my nakedness and much fun, print his scent on my skin, all those are all good advantages. I collect the T-shirt; that's the only time he lets go of my hand, and I am able to slip into the T-shirt before he retakes my hand and pulls me out of bed. In his other hand, there is a bunch of keys. I wonder for what?

It's still dark outside the open curtains. The sun hasn't yet risen.

"Cameron?" I whine, excited and intrigued.

"I wanna show you something," he persuades, smiling under the nightstand light, beautiful shadows casting on his face and tiny dimples over his lips.

He's so naturally gorgeous.

"At-" My eyes go to find the wall clock, and I complete my sentence. "Six in the morning?"

"You will love it," he promises.

We leave the room to the second floor, and that's when everything begins making sense. During my whole stay here, I've only seen a few doors in this house open, and that's just the room I shared with Jake, Cam's studio up there, and the room I woke up in my first-ever night in this house. But right now Cam thrusts a key into a keyhole of a room that had remained locked since I knew here.

"What are you doing?" I curiously ask, and he pushes the door open, revealing darkness for a second before he takes a step inside and switches the light. A child playroom comes into view, with so many space things, mini planets for decorations, posters, books, toys, and a sizeable play rocket kids could fit into.

"Oh my goodness."

I have it in mind, but he says it before I can vocalize, "My playroom when I was a child."

"This is so beautiful," there are paintings on the small person's table; I walk to it to see his creations.

He didn't change a thing. He left everything the way they are. The memories fill the room, and they are beautiful. It's like I could imagine his little self-focused working on the papers in front of me.

I pick up a painting of stars.

"Did you draw this?" I ask, amazed, feeling his stare on me from behind.

"I didn't, Harper did," he answers.

"She paints?" I'm surprised. I thought he said it was his playroom.

"This is the space my father assembled for me," he answers, "But my dream isn't to go out to space, to study the cosmos, to be a scientist."

"It was Harper?" I finish for him, turning to him and finding affirmation on his face. Of course, I was right.

"She's smart. She sees things so much bigger than people her age. She should have studied what she wanted."

But she didn't. My heart breaks watching him smile at the toy between his hands.

"How did this place come about? I remember clearly. For Harper's eighth birthday, our mom and I planned to have Harper in this space so she could study more. I had to lie to our father that I was the one who was passionate about all this," he waves around, "So my sister would have something built for her in the space of her father who can love her if he wants to. This was my playroom and Harper's study room. Only we knew," he adds.

A tear rolls down my eyes and a sob trembles from my lips. He looks over to me, a sad frown on his face.

"Do not cry. I am not telling you to hurt you. I just want you to see all the flaws my family is made of," he says.

But it's just so hard not to cry about.

"I know," I wipe my eyes and turn around so he can't see the pain I have learned all this unfairness about him and Harper.

"You are a good brother, Cameron," I exhale a laugh so he doesn't worry about my mood.

"Let's hope so."

That prompts me to turn over again.

Before I can say anything, he spins, heading out. I follow him.

"Next is my room. It won't make you cry," he busies himself looking through the keys.

Obviously, he doesn't like taking a trip down memory lane. I respect that he still did it for me.

Composingly, he unlocks the opposite door, flipping on the light.

A sky-blue room comes up, making me smile.

"You were once a sunny kid," I remark. He looks over his shoulder with a mischievous smile and leads us inside.

"You can tell."

"Why is it so clean, that room too?" I signal at the open door to their playroom.

"Sometimes I let the cleaners in," he answers.

"I am a sucker for tiny beds. Wanna cuddle? If the bed could take us," I offer excitedly, and he smiles.

"Let's see if it didn't rot," he follows me, taking my hands.

I first climb onto the clean sheets and he follows after me, spooning me. There's a picture from his childhood of him and his family on the nightstand. His hand reaches over and sets it down.

I don't ask anything. I just close my eyes and take a morning nap with him on his childhood bed.