Professor C (camren)

21 - Home

Eleven miles in a little over two hours, Lauren counted the hours since she stepped out of her apartment with her left wrist, hovering high enough for her to read the time on her watch - a water bottle in her hand. The small towel hung over her neck was mildly damp, having been used all throughout the hours she spent alternating between jogging and running.

Coated in a thin layer of sweat, her shoulders rose and fell with urgency as she puffed out heavy gusts like eerie howling winds through her mouth. She was attempting to catch her breath, desperate to relieve the sweltering chill wreaking havoc in her lungs and chest. The entire expanse of her skin was agitated, a shroud of hot, minute nips stirring to concoct the delicious high she sought for in the months she hadn't been able to run.

She was out of shape, she deduced and while it may be counterproductive, all she ever wanted was to eat after getting a nice, warm shower. Truthfully, she was contemplating on drawing a hot bath and residing in it for hours on end, and within the long duration, she would have brought some food in with her.

But it seemed as though Lauren had to put her plans on hold just as she twisted the brass knob of her apartment unit open - key clanking to the swift movement. Her phone rang from where it was safely cradled in her waist pack along with a small wad of cash; the ringtone leaking through her white earphones that were secured upon her ears.

Without no such rush, Lauren blindly sauntered into her kitchen upon locking the door, throwing her head back as she chugged what was left of her water. Being on break, she figured she wouldn't have to answer urgent calls, instead made sure she stayed hydrated.

Her suspicions were proven correct when a certain voice blared through her ears, ricocheting painfully in her ear canal. And as Lauren endured the whiplash of her choice to let ringing dawdle on, she decided that there was nobody like Dinah, and an irate version of the woman was a specific blend of humorous and frightening.

"Why'd you take ages to pick up? Where the hell were you?"

"Hello, Dinah Jane." Lauren mumbled in a deep and sultry tone, cryptic and mysterious while smirking at the bland wall before her with an image of her friend in mind.

She was already claiming premature victory, not anticipating her friend's witty remark.

"Please don't do that again. I'm not Mila." Dinah quickly told her off and by the air in her amused voice, she knew she had won their banter.

"Very funny." Lauren sardonically mumbled, surrendering the empty bottle down to the sink.

"I know it's like three, but have you had lunch?"

"I had brunch at, like, 11:00?"

"Please tell me you had milk if that was cereal and please tell me that was enough for an adult body." Dinah beseeched amid the distaste in her voice. The knowledge of Lauren's cereal preference sans milk was a dry and insipid conundrum to her. "Why are you panting like a dog, anyway?!"

"Ha-ha. I had eggs and toast." Lauren humorlessly retorted, jerking her head from one side to another to relieve the tension settling upon her neck. The instant she heard a crack, she released a relieved groan; hand reaching behind her nape for a brief massage. "And I just got back from a run."

"Ew. You're 'adulting.'"

"Ew. You're still a child in a woman's body."

Lauren had felt oddly displaced that Tuesday morning. She had forgotten to silence all her set alarms, which meant she was woken in five minute margins 10 grueling times even without the pressing need to starting at 5:30 in the morning.