this town (camren)

this town

“Waking up to kiss you and nobody's there
The smell of your perfume still stuck in the air
It's hard”

The alarm goes off to the sound of an acoustic track in finger-style. It's a melody she remembers having recorded with her own phone as the idea popped into her mind completely out of nowhere. She was sitting at her desk, writing an essay for her Anatomy test, but the inspiration came so fast that she had to leave everything and take her guitar.

She blindly reaches out for her phone on the nightstand by her king-sized bed until she finally switches it off.
Camila has never been a morning person, that's for sure. She's never been a fan of getting up early and she's always been one of those students who often arrived late for her classes but then college came along and well, now she knows that if she gets up late she'll have to endure the frustration of probably not being allowed into the classroom and thus missing an entire lesson.

The brunette stretches between the sheets as she yawns and slowly opens her eyes.
She inevitably turns to her left and a hand comes to rest on the pillow beside her. Then it follows the flowers pattern of the covers until it finds the empty space which feels cold under her palm and where once was the warmth of a body pressed against her own. Soft curves and cream coloured skin she loved to kiss every inch of.

Camila breathes in the quiet air and the silence is so overwhelming that she almost smells her perfume. White musk with a hint of vanilla that came either from her body wash or some lotion she applied to her hands and face - it was all part of her sacred skin routine, that's what she always said.

But if the bed is big enough to fit two people, Camila has learnt to trick herself into believing that if she won't think about it, it'll seem smaller.
There are days where missing her doesn't hurt so much and hours pass without her feeling like her heart is heavier than the entire earth.

This, however, is not one of those days.

Camila sits up and runs a hand through her hair.

Today would've been her fourth anniversary by Lauren's side.
If only everything wouldn't have fallen apart.

She starts pacing around the apartment to collect some clothes and go into the bathroom to take a shower.
She opens the bottom drawer next to the sink and her eyes fall on a small, blue bottle of perfume that she examines under the sunlight passing through the curtains of the window.
It's funny how even though it's been more than five months since the two of them broke up, some of Lauren's things are still here. And she would never admit it to herself, but Camila is responsible for at least half of those things. Because when Lauren texted her asking if she had forgot anything, she always answered no.

Just so that Lauren noticed by herself and then had to come back to Camila's (their) apartment and get them.

She knew how wrong it was for both of them, but the way her heart started beating faster every time she heard the doorbell ring and she found the raven-haired woman standing outside her doorstep made it oh so easy to lie again. Just to feel that spark once more. Just to look at that face one more time.

Camila also knew those encounters led to absolute nothing because when Lauren stepped into her apartment she gathered up her things so fast that she never let Camila even muster up the courage to breath out something as simple as "do you want something to drink?".

Four weeks after their breakup, Lauren stopped going back to their apartment.

Camila figured she had realized what was happening and had decided to cut it before it became too risky for them both. Typical Lauren. She was always so quick to understand when something was wrong, even when Camila herself didn't.