Surreal Perfection (Camren)

Ch 32

WARNING:
Somewhat Racy, Not Explicit. You guys wanted to know what exactly happened? Well, here you go...

[To Listen To: "Possibility" by Lykke Li]
^^Put it on repeat for extra feels

//

Even though my pulse is trying to race out of my skin; even though I don't really know what I'm doing, what I do know, is who I want to do it with.

So I cover her hand with mine, and I say, "Lo, I...I want you to be my first."

Lauren blinks a few times, and I can see her darkened eyes, studying me with wonder.

She nods nervously, and says, "Mine too..."

----

//

How is it, that shadows are more prominent when your back is to the light?

With my head on Lauren's chest, I focus on its steady up and down, listening to her heart beating.

There's something lucid about dawn.

It's such a transient moment, between night and day, when yesterday still lingers, even though it's today.

I find myself staring at those same rays of light from the morning before, watching the tiny specks of dust, swirling through them like trapped fireflies on cut-out slats.

Lauren makes an adorable sound in her sleep, and I stay still, to make sure I don't disturb her.

I've never forgotten how amazing it feels, to wake up next to her.

But why is it that my chest feels like it's quietly imploding, now that I have a quiet moment to myself?

I notice the sunlight flickering, and when I look to the window, I hear the sounds of wings flapping, and once again, my memories take me back in time.

----

"Camila?"

I don't bother looking back at Shawn, even though I'm sure he has a concerned look on his face.

My gaze is still stuck though, staring out towards the window, where I can see birds perched on tree branches.

"You should eat something," I hear him say.

I feel the bed dip as he sits beside me, and he gently takes the bottle of water out of my hand, replacing it with a spoon.

I glance at him, and I look away immediately.

I hate the way he's looking at me.

Like I'm some miserable person, who needs to be treated like broken glass.

"I'm not hungry," I reply hollowly.

Shawn sighs, and places the bowl of cereal on his nightstand. He turns his body away from me, staring out at the same window I'm so fascinated with.

He stands up, and does a few stretches; I'm sure he's sore from sleeping on his couch last night, but he doesn't say anything about it.

He's too nice for his own good, and I'm too selfish right now to leave him alone.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, and says, "I, uh, laid out some sweats in the bathroom, and there's a new toothbrush under the sink, if you wanna use it..."

His kindness makes me want to vomit; but instead, I feel tears starting to well up behind my eyes again.

I'm surprised my body's still even capable of crying.