The Beautiful Musician (Camila/you)

Chapter 22

The air in the room felt heavy to the three figures inside; tension so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Camila got up to grab a glass of water, leaving Shawn and Y/n standing away from one another on opposite sides of the room.

Shawn looked up towards the singer wondering if he should be the first to say something. He wasn't exactly sure what he should say, but the awkwardness between him and his best friend was almost becoming too much to bear.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the back of the couch and sighing softly; the warm air escaping his lips in a low huff.

"I'm sorry, Y/n, I should've never said all that to shit to you."

The other singer didn't turn towards him at first, her gaze remaining fixed on the potted succulents sitting on the window sill. Silence settled back down between them, having only been temporarily warded off by the sound of the man's voice.

Finally, Y/n turned to face Shawn, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips, "It's okay. I know you meant well."

She took a few steps towards him, holding out her hand in an unspoken gesture of forgiveness. Shawn grabbed her hand and shook his head, reeling her forwards suddenly in a tight hug.

In the secure arms of her friend, Y/n felt her eyes start to water once more; this time for a completely different reason. A few salty tears escaped her eyes and ran down her cheeks, leaving behind glistening trails and staining Shawn's t-shirt as they dripped.

She stepped away from him once she felt emotion clog her throat, ducking down to hide her face as she made her way around to sit down on the sofa.

Just then, Camila made her way back into the room, worried as she stared at her girlfriend's watery eyes. She cautiously approached the couch to take a seat next to Y/n, moving the lukewarm beer bottle off to the side and wiping her damp palm against her jeans.

Shawn had retreated into the background when Camila had come in; now leaning heavily against the wall facing the two women. His strong arms were taut and crossed in front of him, almost as if he was standing guard.

His eyes softened when they met
Y/n's and he nodded towards the two, turning to walk out the sliding glass doors leading to the backyard to give them some privacy.

Y/n scooted back, leaning her back against the plush seat and clutched one of the throw pillows next to her. She closed her eyes, images flashing as she recalled the day that had changed everything.
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(Trigger warning: blood and mentions of physical abuse)
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*Flashback*

Her eyes slowly fluttered open and she blinked several times, her brain trying to make sense of what had caused her to pass out.

She was lying face down, disoriented as she turned her head to the side, groaning out when she felt the muscles in her neck protest and her head swarm with flashes of white hot pain.

The wood stained flooring near her head was brushed in a sticky substance, the dark cool liquid oozing through her fingers and onto her palms as she splayed her fingers out in preparation to get up.

Y/n breathed deeply as she laid on the floor, gathering any remaining strength to push herself upwards before Isabella returned.

She screamed feeling searing pain rip through her body as she grabbed onto the remains of the glass coffee table to use as leverage, eyes widening when they caught sight of a streak of blood smeared across the table's shiny metal leg.