The dragonfly tattoo artist

12

The dragonfly on Lauren's back was completely disgusting. Without a doubt, it was the only tattoo that didn't make Camila proud.

It was pure disgrace. It was also the tattoo Camila hated the most.

Still, the painter told her she loved it.

They made their way to Lauren's apartment in complete silence, the tattoo artist not being able to look away from the young woman's injured wrist for a second.

Camila wondered how she had endured the pain, and whether she would've stopped to think about what she was doing. Camila wondered if the feeling of the razor through her skin had freed her, or if it had plunged her into a dark world where the pain became worse and worse.

And, more importantly, Camila wondered why she had done so.

"Lauren..." She needed to know, even if that wasn't the right time.

"I know what you want to ask, Camila. I would do the same if I were in your place" Her eyes were staring at the road, or that was what it looked like.

Camila wondered if Lauren was really seeing the way, or if she was only thinking of meaningless worlds like Howe had done. She wondered if Lauren was driving carefully, or if she was just keeping them alive by inertia.

"I'd never felt so dirty, Camila" She related, and although her body was there, the tears that began to slip down her cheeks revealed that her memories had taken her to that night "... His payment didn't involve, you know, penetrating me, but there was something that felt a lot worse than that. It was the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, the way he threw me against the glass as if I was nothing but an object. I felt disgusted with my payments, my old way of working, and I wondered how many others had looked at me the same way. And I hated it, Camila, I hated it a lot that night."

Camila listened to her attentively, not wanting to miss any details. She knew that was important. If the painter had marked her skin for that reason, it must be.

"I hated it because it made me realize the disaster that I had been."

"Lauren..." Camila wanted to tell her to shut up, that she wasn't a disaster, she just had to hate him for the humiliation that he made her feel.

Lauren didn't let her.

"I love myself, Camz. I really love myself. Since I found out I had me I haven't stopped doing it, but even the people we love most have their mistakes. I only learned to recognize it."

Camila sighed. She wanted to interrupt Lauren, but she knew she shouldn't.

"I hurted myself because I felt Parker in my blood, all over my body. I also felt my previous clients, their looks on my body, their fingers marking my skin... I had to get them out somehow."

Camila couldn't hold back any more. She really couldn't.

"That wasn't the solution, Lauren."

"It wasn't for you. For me it meant draining the hatred that I felt" Lauren clarified, and spoke so peacefully about her wounds that Camila almost felt like hitting her to make her react "... Besides, I wanted it to be superficial. I got a little carried away, I know, and I'm sorry, but it was the only way I could find to feel good at the time."

Even though Camila couldn't understand her, she didn't judge her. She couldn't do it.

"Can you promise me it won't happen again?"

"I can promise that I will try not to happen again."

"It's not enough, Lauren!"

Camila didn't understand Lauren, but she was still frustrated by the situation. She didn't want Lauren to get hurt by other people. She didn't want Lauren to get hurt.