Her Light

IV

Camila doesn't tell Lauren. Telling her means that they will actually leave, and that's terrifying. Even though Camila craves to the freedom of the ocean and what will come from their trip, she's still shaken by it.

Lauren hasn't pestered her about it—at least, not verbally. She'll send her knowing stares when they're alone together, lingering glances when they're apart.

It's been almost two weeks since their talk in Lauren's room (it feels better to call it Lauren's room than her late father's bedroom). Camila knows Lauren is outside, probably sitting in Camila's spot near the rocks, breathing Camila's usual morning air, seeing Camila's foggy sights. She has to talk to her.

Casting a reluctant look into the small mirror hung on her wall, she offers herself a smile. It's awkward at first, then becomes gentler when she thinks of Lauren paralleling her own mornings. It's less lonely when it's no longer only Camila and her reflection.

She pads down the steps, pushing open the heavy door into the winter air. It's freezing, but nothing Camila isn't used to. Lauren isn't difficult to spot amongst the greenery and ocean horizon. Camila could use some cheesy line about how she's prettier than it all, but it's more the creeping familiarity that gets her.

It's refreshing, walking up to the ledge and sitting beside her spot instead of within it. Another human being sat next to her, coexisting. It's been awhile since Camila's had something like this, and she'd hate to compare it to the past, but her mind is naturally drawn there.

"Hi," Lauren greets Camila first, despite her being the one who sat down. "You look nice."

"When have I ever been mean?" Camila frowns, shifting into her knees propped, rested chin position upon the cliff.

Lauren lets out a strangled chuckle, turning her body towards Camila who looks out at the ocean line. "No." Her voice is gentle; so gentle, it pulls Camila out of her stance and towards her.

A singular word, yet spoken so softly—it takes Camila aback. Her legs cross together as the two girls face each other, discarding the cliffside view for each other's gaze.

"No? I've been mean?" Camila furrows her eyebrows slightly, watching Lauren's face curiously. If she's ever been rude, she wants to apologize for it. Camila knows she wasn't the most open when Lauren first arrived, and she can't say she's gotten any better, but after almost three weeks of her company, she's more than tolerable.

Lauren laughs again, her eyes crinkling in the rising sunlight. "No, you haven't. I said you look nice."

The confused expression on Camila's face only becomes deeper. "I know. Then I said—" until. "Wait."

Camila knows her face is glowing pink and the sunrise is not helping, because Lauren is laughing into her palm, her eyes glancing up at her. Really it's not Camila's fault, if she wasn't able to pick up compliments before, then she's definitely not able to now.

Lauren has turned back to the horizon again, her face bright with sunlight. It's a blessing it isn't foggy this morning like Camila assumed it would be.

Shifting away from Lauren again, she murmurs, "you look nice, too." Crossing her arms over her knees, she hides the lower half of her face.

If Lauren heard her, she doesn't know. But glancing over from the corner of her eye, she sees a resting smile and faint blush upon her cheeks. It's enough to make Camila feel nauseous. At least, that's what she thinks it is.

"So, about the whole pirate adventure thing." Now she's actually feeling nauseous, feeling the microphone being handed to her.

Patient. She's so patient. She doesn't once push when Camila goes silent for longer than she should've. It makes her feel guilty—guilty she avoided this conversation for so long when she knew Lauren was counting on her.