Her Light

V

Every passing day without a letter in return feels more and more hopeless.

Camila knows the mailmen are better than this, and usually letters send and are returned before two weeks can pass. Or maybe not, and this is normal. Camila hasn't sent much mail within her lifetime, but it's 1961 and Camila knows the mail service has gotten better from when her parents would send letters out.

She can't help but notice how Lauren grows more and more tired each passing day. She has been here with Camila for over a month now, and Camila can imagine she's feeling stuck.

They're sitting outside, their faces pointed to the sea. Camila lifts her head from her palms, ripping her eyes from the crashing waves, and glancing over at Lauren. She's sitting leaned back on both hands, her brown hair obscuring her face slightly.

"If I had a car, I would drive you there."

Lauren looks like she's been pulled from a deep monologue herself, her expression a little dazzled. "Drive me where?"

"The California coast." Camila explains, lacing her own fingers together and tapping her thumb against her other thumb. It's soothing to her. "My family never had a car, we never had enough money for one. Being a lighthouse keeper doesn't make the most money. I'm sure I could buy one now if I really wanted—it is the 60's—I just..."

"It's okay." Lauren offers her a smile, shrugging a shoulder cutely. "I prefer the seas over anything."

Camila feels a little more relaxed now. She's not even sure she would be able to drive in the first place, she'd probably zone out. Still, she feels uncharacteristically talkative at the moment. Maybe it is in character and she's simply been out of herself for too long. She can't tell.

"So, about the seas...?"

A chuckle is exhaled from Lauren, twisting toward Camila again. "What about it?"

The sun has set already, leaving the land in a calm darkness. It's not pitch black, though. Camila can still see Lauren and her surroundings; they're just dimmed. It brings out a pretty hue of blue in the water, anyway.

"What're they like?" Camila asks, somewhat embarrassed.

Lauren knits her eyebrows together momentarily, sending Camila a bizarre look. "Well, they tried to drown me, first of all."

Rolling her eyes, Camila scoots away from Lauren. She rests the side of her face on her knee, gazing over at Lauren. Even with her moving away, they're closer than they are most nights.

"I don't really know how to explain it, I guess." She admits, dropping her eyes to the grass before raising them back up. There's a certain light behind them that Camila has grown to admire. "They're free. The wind and the water, the way the boat moves under you. No land in sight and you feel... well..." Lauren avoids eye contact with Camila by casting her gaze out into the ocean. "Kind of lonely, I guess."

That perks Camila's head up. "What do you mean? I thought you had your crew?"

She sighs, still not meeting Camila's eyes. "I thought I did. But thinking back on it this month, I realized my crew had been drifting away from me. There were nights where I wouldn't sleep, I'd just be up in my bed, wondering what else is out there. I guess I got so in my head, I stopped being a good captain."

Camila listens, her eyes dropping to Lauren's fingers picking at the grass again. A winter chill rushes through her and while spring should be cracking through the frozen land soon, it hasn't yet. They should be heading in soon—before the incests mistake them as part of the earth.

"On my ship, I was out finding that what else, you know? I loved the rush of plundering and fighting and porting in new places. It was really fun." Lauren hides a sad, nostalgic smile with her knee, still picking at the grass. "I was lonely, though. Surrounded by my crew all day, everyday, I craved for company in midst of all the company I could ever need."