On a Wednesday in a Café

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Summary : Just a little one shot based off Taylor Swift's "Begin Again".

Because it gives me feels. A lot of them.

Or, the one in which Camila just makes Lauren feel really special. And no one else ever has.

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Lauren took a deep breath in, as she stared critically at herself in the mirror.

It had been a long, long time since she'd worn her favourite combat boots.

They were solid black leather, laces loosely tied and heels scuffed from years of use. They were her prized possession. Her grandma had first gotten them for her as a joke when she came out, and since then, and even more so since the death of her grandma, they had held a special place in her heart.

He had...deemed them as too "dykey". Not girly enough. Not the kind of girl he had wanted to date.

She remembers vaguely the first time she had worn them in front of him. He had looked at her, scoffed, and smacked her hard around the head, before snarling at her to, "Take those things off. You look like a dyke."

And then, when she pointed out that she was indeed, technically a dyke, as she was bisexual, he had hit her hard across the face thrice more.

Her sexuality had never been mentioned again.

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Finally conceding defeat to her hair, and accepting the fact that she had to leave soon, Lauren shrugged her green shirt on top of her white tank top, tied her laces, even though that was kind of pointless because they always seemed to come undone anyway, and left. Or tried to.

Because god, was Lauren jittery. She was so, so nervous. She could barely turn the lock of her own door, her hands were shaking that much, and it was even worse when she tried to put her headphones in.

It was just, she hadn't been on a date in a really, really long time.

He had always seemed to prefer to just stay at home. "Away from where anyone could look at you," he had said. "They don't need to know what kind of garbage I'm banging now, how retarded and ugly you are. Please, I'd rather not be ashamed like that."

At the time, she had just bowed her head, taking insult after insult, green eyes cloudy with unshed tears, cheeks sore and bruised from the beatings she had received earlier that day.

She used to meet up with Normani and Ally as regularly as he would let her, and see how they screwed their faces up in sympathy, because there was nothing else they could do. Because they knew Lauren would never ever let them do anything. She was too scared.

Just in case they got hurt too.

But, when Lauren and him had broken up, they were two of the happiest people Lauren had ever seen, jumping for joy at the news and squealing excitedly, before awkwardly clearing their throats, both muttering a pointless sorry, because they weren't really, with their lips still upturned a little because they just couldn't help it.

And, a year later as they were sat in the library, studying for finals, they were the ones to push Lauren to take that first step, to agree to go out with the sweet, clumsy brunette with the heart of gold, whose tall blonde friend called Dinah had shoved forwards, right into Lauren. And then, she had proceeded to so shyly and politely ask her out, with the cheesiest, but most endearing pick up line Lauren had ever heard. And, even if she didn't feel one hundred percent ready, Lauren knew that not going out with the brunette would be a huge mistake.