Numbers (Laurmani)

four.

Lauren felt very small. Watching the world go by unaffected by her existence from a thousand square foot loft for maybe a little over a year could do that to a person. Who knows how long it had been- she wasn't really sure what day it was. She could tell the season, but not the month, let alone the day. It didn't really matter what day it was, or what season, because she knew that the scene unfolding in front of her would've happened no matter the time.

It didn't really matter what she did because nothing would change. She knew the whimper she let out couldn't save Normani. She knew that the shake in her limbs, and the nausea she felt for what might come later wouldn't stop Camila. But she hoped to God, or whatever the fuck was out there, that Normani would get up off of the ground before Camila would ruthlessly stomp on her with her heels, or maybe get on top of her and slam her head into the marble. Lauren knew Camila could get creative when she was angry. Nothing was below her.

And really, Lauren was proud, in some strange way, that Camila hadn't transformed into a flurry of fists and beat Normani into a bloody mess. It wouldn't be unusual. Then again, maybe she didn't want to get blood on her pink fur coat. It was her favorite. (She had told her once, maybe months ago when Lauren had tried to embrace her and Camila had stepped aside-- "This is American Apparel, Lauren.") Maybe she didn't want to mess up her manicure today. It was a different color from when Lauren had seen her the day previous. White acrylics. Or maybe she didn't want to muss her hair. Lauren couldn't quite pin down the reason. None of it made sense. Her restraint scared Lauren. It scared her when Camila had first met Normani and it scared her now. And Lauren knew it was hard for her. Camila worked her jaw, clenching her teeth as her hands shook despite her trying to hide it. She described the feeling for Lauren once, in a rare moment when she acknowledged her many physical altercations. Camila had told her that her hands itched, and that's why she had to lash out. It was an itch that had to be scratched, and she had no self control.

As Lauren stood frozen, she thought it would be a strange scene if someone happened to enter the hallway at that moment. She couldn't tell what would be the strangest to someone who would happen upon the trio- the fact that she stood in a much too short sleep shirt with sleep in her eyes and droll crusted at the corner of her lips, gaping lamely at the fallen girl in front of her, or perhaps her girlfriend huffing in her gaudy faux fur and heels, looking ready to pounce. Or maybe the fact that they all existed in the silence of the hallway, no one daring to move despite what had previously ensued.

It was Normani who spoke first.

"Lay your hands on me again and it'll be the last." She said curtly as began to stand, sharply inhaling as she got to her feet. Lauren watched as Normani curled her fists, and flinched when she rolled her shoulders. Camila moved to hit her again but Normani had already anticipated it, stepping slightly to the side. Camila's face burned as the gold Cartier bracelets on her arm rattled with the motion. Normani grabbed Camila's bejeweled and outstretched arm, her nails pressing into her skin. The dark skinned girl clenched her jaw, hard lines forming on her face.

"Like I said, lay your hands on me again and it'll be the last." Normani said more firmly, pushing Camila's arm away from her. Lauren hadn't seen her lose it. In the back of her mind, she was counting on this incident to see her lash out. It would prove that they were all the same. But she didn't. Instead she kept her cool, in stark contrast to Camila's fury.

Camila swung again using her other arm and Normani grabbed her wrist in reflex, twisting Camila's arm behind her in a defensive move. Lauren winced as her girlfriend cursed in pain, struggling to remove herself from Normani's grip.

"Wrong move, Camila."

Normani shoved the smaller woman, who stumbled as she tried to gain solid footing on her five inch stilettos. When she gained stability, Camila tossed her purse to the side and lunged at Normani. However, the other girl was well prepared. She stepped into Camila's lunge with her fist outstretched. Her knuckles made contact with Camila's face and immediately she threw her weight behind a second punch from her other hand, connecting with the other girl's mouth. To Lauren, and most probably Camila, it was obvious she had done this before.