home

871 35 17
                                    

Camila opened the door. 

The sounds of rain filled her ears, small droplets dripping onto the welcome mat inside of the apartment. Camila didn't care, because Dinah was standing there with her hair soaked. In the light of the porch lamp, Camila thought the girl was more beautiful than ever.

"I'm home," Dinah said, breaking the barrier between them.

Camila's eyes welled up with tears, "It's about time."

you were my home | caminahWhere stories live. Discover now