Admit It

10; "from me, to you."

When Shawn saw her, it wasn't like all of his troubles disappeared. He didn't think that's how this was supposed to work. It was like her presence made him feel like his troubles didn't have to be the only thing always on his mind, like he was worthy enough to think of something beautiful, something magical. He wasn't worthy of her, though, he wasn't worthy of an aura so calming and kind.

For the first time, they did something other than sit at the same mahogany table with the same flickering yellow table lamp. Starting with the basement they weren't technically allowed into to the top floor that they climbed a winding, stone staircase to get to, Shawn showed Camila through every empty hallway in the 3-story building, their footsteps seeming to fill every corner of the building.

"I swore you were about to get us killed or something!" an Australian man's automated voice said through the phone. Using a phone to speak was more than Camila ever thought she'd be able to do, but Shawn was quick to make fun of the robotized voice and calmed her nerves.

"There was no one there and the Mrs. Front Desk doesn't even check the security cameras. Calm the fuck down."

"There have been murders at this address." She typed simply.

He laughed and pushed the door open. Camila ran up the next 20 steps; Shawn had taken the stairs two at a time and gotten ahead of her.

"Technically, you're not wrong," Shawn replied. He instinctively placed a hand on her lower back, the base of his palm on one side of her ribs and his fingertips reaching the other, before flinching at his own actions. He always used to do that to her. He slid his hand to wrap around hers again, and felt his breath come out in a bit of relief. That felt more like something him and Camila could do.

Camila tilted her head up at him and raised an eyebrow, subtly shifting her hand so their fingers just slightly crossed over at the tips. "What do you mean? Unless you were lying to me, someone was killed here." Even just using one hand, she typed fast.

"You said, 'there have been murders'. With an 's'. And that's true, two people were killed here."

The echo that responded to every quiet footstep and deep breath just a moment ago seemed to fall silent for a moment as Camila stopped in her tracks. The hallway was made of highly glossed dark wood on the floor, and a Victorian style red and gold wallpaper. Somehow, maybe because of the rumored ghosts swallowing words from the air and spitting them back out, the echo was louder than the sound it reflected, and eerily silent when there wasn't any noise to manipulate.

"Note to self," Shawn said lightheartedly. "Murders scare you."

"Murders scare everyone," she typed back.

Taking back her hand, Shawn pointed at the door to their right. "That hallway leads to the balcony. Do you want to go?"

Camila instantly perked up and ran to the door, struggling for a moment before shoving it open like she was supposed to, not letting go of the hand she had learned to hold in hers as she ran down the hallway. Smiling behind her, Shawn wondered how a girl as quiet and apprehensive as she had been could also look like every color of the Northern sky.

The door and wall at the end of the hallway were so thick and sturdy it seemed like there could never be anything on the other side, but when she pushed it open, what seemed like an entire floor was revealed. The balcony was a semicircle shape and the floors were made of a beige stone so polished Shawn could look into the floor and see the girl in awe next to him as clearly as if he were looking directly at her, every strand of black, blown-by-wind hair reflected onto the perfect tile. The rails were an intricate design that cast shadows that looked like lace onto the ground. It'd been so long since he had come up here that he'd nearly forgotten its existence entirely. He was glad he took Camila up here today. Forgetting was so long.