Camila doesn't like sharing.
Well, with anyone but Lauren. More specifically, she doesn't like sharing Lauren. Or their home. At least, Camila considers it their home.
They kissed. Camila likes to think that the kiss would push her over the edge. She likes to think that the kiss would fix everything.
But it didn't.
Because now Camila is making another turkey sandwich. It's nearly two in the morning but Lauren still isn't home, Camila has just woken up after drinking herself into oblivion and she thinks that maybe Lauren will come back home if her half of the sandwich is waiting on the counter for her.
Her eyes are so heavy that the smiley face she scrawls on the napkin looks more like a drooping flower. But she's too tired to try and redo it so she neatly tears the sandwich into two and says a little prayer that Lauren will return home soon.
Camila takes her place on the couch. She wishes they had a TV, because with nothing to occupy her mind she soon finds herself drifting off to sleep.
She's in the midst of a wonderful dream where she's flying when heavy, uneven footsteps wake her up. It's not just one pair of footsteps, either.
Camila hears it. She hears them disappear into one of the rooms down the hallway. No matter how hard she presses a pillow against her ears she still hears them. It's burned into her brain and she's pretty sure she's going to pass out from holding her breath for so long.
Because she hears it. And it's not her. And he doesn't know Lauren like she does. And he doesn't give her what she deserves.
And it should be her.
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covers ➸ a camren one shot
Fanfiction"And every cell in her body is screaming ‘touch her, touch her,’ but Lauren was a work of art and Camila could not ruin her. She’d already done enough of that."
