Her Light

II

Creeping out of her room early morning to check the beacon, Camila is careful to keep her steps light and silent to not wake Lauren. But apparently, she wasn't careful enough because glancing around, she spots Lauren standing at the bottom of the stairwell.

"Shit," Camila jumps, startled, her hand resting on her pounding chest. "Why are you awake?"

"Where are you going?" Lauren's voice is raspy. She must've just woken up.

Camila sends her an assuring smile, "just going up to check the beacon. Sometimes it goes out and I have to relight it."

"Can I come with you?"

Clenching her jaw, Camila shakes her head. "No, I'm sorry. It's something I'm used to doing alone." She turns away from Lauren, taking another step upstairs.

Lauren reaches her arm out, "wait, please—"

She doesn't turn around, "maybe next time."

Scaling the stairs before Lauren can say anything else, Camila reaches the seventh floor of the lighthouse. She's slightly winded from sprinting away from Lauren, grasping the ledge's bar to inhale a few deep breaths of cold morning air.

It's a relief to be alone. It's a relief to not have anyone around her to have to think about. But at the same time, she feels lonely with this view. Having someone in the lighthouse with her is new—even when this is only the first night—and has been stressful for Camila.

Camila would almost consider it scary. Scarier than all the stories of lighthouse keepers losing their sanity. Being responsible for another human's well-being is scarier than losing her own. Yes, Lauren is an adult and can take care of herself, but Camila feels a sense of responsibility over her. Lauren could've died in the ocean yesterday, but she didn't. Camila saved her.

And now Camila left her alone again.

Cursing herself, Camila checks the kerosene lamp within the beacon and resets the wounded weight. She then rests her arms against the ledge, exhaling a misty cloud into the dark morning sky.

She's gotten so used to the silence of her surroundings, Lauren seems like a loud cry cutting through. Camila doesn't want the pirate's company, anyway. She shouldn't hate how perfect Lauren seems just because she's a pirate, just because she achieved what Camila would die for—her passion. Camila is jealous because she knows the failure is on her own part and her asshole of a father.

Camila's eyes find the brightening horizon line, admiring the gleaming reflection from the moon. Or maybe it's the beacon, Camila can't tell. She lets out a little huff.

She's confused.

...

It's early when Camila hears footsteps wander into the kitchen. Gripping her cup of tea in her defrosting hands, she turns towards Lauren.

"Good morning," Lauren grins her way. Her hair is messy and curled gently at the tips, Camila's pajamas clad on her. "What're you drinking?"

"Tea." Camila says, leaning against the counter, facing Lauren.

Lauren crinkles her nose, "tea?"

Now this intrigues Camila.

"Have you not had tea before?"

"No," Lauren shakes her head, making her way around the small kitchen to stand by Camila. "Usually we only drink beer and water on the ship."

"Only?" Camila laughs. Lauren smiles in response to the laughter, dipping her chin down to get a glance of Camila's smile. "Here."