Haven't Forgotten My Way Home (Camren)

Chapter Eight

"And don't speak too loudly to her; she doesn't like that. Don't touch her, she flinches still and I don't want to upset her. Don't make any comments about the chair because I know she's self-conscious, and really she's been doing a good job with learning to walk again. She's gotten a lot of her strength back so I really don't think it's—"

"Do you think we could continue this lecture while I'm not standing in your doorway? The chairs in your living room are really comfortable and I'd be happy to let you ramble once I'm on one."

Camila stopped mid-sentence, her mouth open slightly, before she flushed pink and nodded. "Come in, Mani, Dinah, I'm sorry." She stepped back from the door, allowing them entrance, and then shut it behind them.

"Put the wine in the fridge," Normani said to Dinah, and then moved to sit on one of the aforementioned chairs, staring at Camila with an amused expression on her face. "Are you always this nervous?"

Camila huffed and sat on the couch opposite Normani. "Thanks, Dinah," she said to the woman, as she nodded at her with a smile, then dropped to Normani's feet in front of the chair. "I'm nervous," she admitted, "Because she's nervous. She's terrified you two won't like her."

Lauren was still in the bathroom getting ready; she'd been in there for the last thirty minutes and Camila had decided to give her just a little while longer before she retrieved her. Lauren had been apprehensive all morning, so much so that she would barely eat and Camila had had to remind her more than once to finish her breakfast. Then it had been another two hours while she had tried to decide on what to wear, and finally, though she wasn't entirely comfortable with it, Camila had picked out the outfit. That had seemed to put Lauren more at ease, though not by much. Camila had tried to calm her down, but no amount of reassurances she could offer seemed to work. Finally she'd just let Lauren hole herself in the bathroom so she could fix her hair and talk herself into the headspace she needed.

She was a little worried about that headspace.

"Well, she shouldn't be nervous," Normani said, reaching down to run her hand over Dinah's long blond hair. "Any friend of yours is a friend of ours, right, babe?"

"Yes, Ma'am," she readily agreed. "Except that one guy. We don't like him."

Camila rolled her eyes; "that one guy" had been a stalker that had followed her home one night, begging for her to claim him. She'd called Normani, and after 5 minutes alone with her... she'd never seen the guy again.

"Let me go get my girl."

"Your girl?" Normani raised an eyebrow. "Camila..."

"It's just a phrase, Normani," Camila said hastily. "Just a phrase, that's all."

She avoided her saying anything else by walking quickly to the bathroom down the hall, and knocking on the door. "Lauren?" she called softly. "It's time to come out."

"Don't want to," came the muffled response.

Camila sighed. "I know you don't, but really, the bathroom can't be all that cozy."

"Yes it is. You have really nice tile."

Camila thumped her head on the bathroom door and tried not to laugh. "Lauren Jauregui, open this door right now," she commanded gently. "We have guests, and I don't want to keep them waiting."

A few seconds passed, and finally the door swung inward. Lauren looked at Camila, anxiety written all over her face. She was beautiful, Camila realized again, wearing her new grey sweater and blue jeans, with her hair in loose waves framing her face.

Camila smiled softly. "Look at you," she said. "I think you must be the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

Lauren blushed, ducking her head. "You think so, Miss Camila?"