One Shots (Camren)

Follow Me Inside (Lauren g!p)

Warning: Drug abuse

Four knocks. Each sharp, staccato rap sent a jolt of recognition down her aching spine. She knew instantly who was on the other side of his door.

There were no lights on. Lauren didn't need them; she had lived in this shithole second floor apartment for eight years, knew every mark on the walls, every cigarette burn on her old couch, every piece of mismatched furniture that hid the stains on the beige carpet. Only slivers of amber light from the street lamp outside illuminated her way to the door, the streaks gracing her floor, distorted with slashes of relentless rain as it raced toward the earth.

Her gut wrenched as she considered why the brown eyed girl would be showing up here at this late hour, undoubtedly drenched from rain since the woman rarely drove from her place three blocks away, and all without calling first. If she had called, Lauren knew Camila wouldn't have knocked first.

Long, slender fingers grasped the doorknob tightly, jerking the door open with a rough tug from where the aged wood always stuck against the frame.

At the sight of her weary brown eyes another rush of anxiety shot through her.

"Camz, what's wrong?" She asked quickly as she stepped aside, letting Camila in as Lauren's eyes swept over her wet clothes, jeans rain-darkened, and her slim black sweater clinging to her slight form.

"I didn't want to be in that empty apartment," she murmured, running a hand through her damp hair in an effort to compose her dishevelment. "It's just... been a long day. I'm okay, Lauren."

"No, you're not." She spoke the words quietly; both of them knew she didn't mean to spark an argument. Both, however, also knew it was the truth and they'd be too tired to hash it out.

"I wanted a drink. Didn't want to do it alone since... last time." Camila didn't look her in the eye as she said it, opting to turn her back toward Lauren and pad her way to the kitchen.

"You won't find any," Lauren said, following her silently. A rueful smile quirked at one corner of her mouth as she watched Camila. "You cleaned me out last week, babe."

Camila sighed, finally turning toward Lauren and leaned tiredly against the counter. Her brown gaze locked on her green eyes, trying to convey how little she wanted Lauren to turn down her next request.

Lauren took her expression in carefully, seeing something she didn't like gleaming from those endless orbs.

"Something else then," she said quietly.

Lauren knew what she meant immediately. Her jaw tensed and her green eyes dropped to the floor. "No."

"Please." The word was whispered, hopeless. Camila didn't really expect Lauren to give in. "You know I've never asked before."

"You've never done it before, Camz," she replied, her low voice sharply edged. "I don't know how you'd handle it." Lauren lifted her eyes to meet Camila's, the silent imploring she saw within them already tearing her willpower to shreds.

"You can dish it out to your customers, take a nice helping for yourself, even, and you can't just humor me once?" Her voice didn't carry the malice she'd intended, and instead sounded withered. It was a double standard that she'd allowed for years, and she knew it was unfair to call Lauren on it so late.

Lauren swallowed, recognizing the tone in her voice as rejection. Camila didn't realize why she had to turn her down, and it tore Lauren up that Camila took it this way. Camila never asked anything of her, and the first time in their sordid three year relationship that she did, Lauren had to deny her.