Her Light

XIX

So turns out confessing how she felt to Lauren wasn't the end. In fact, it was more of a beginning than anything else. And beginnings... well, beginnings can be scary because they're new and Camila isn't the best with uncharted territory.

It started yesterday morning when Camila had woken up. Some of her hair had been strewn across her eyes, and she was curled away from Lauren, her hands clasped near her face. Everything was normal, as she normally wakes up in that position. However, something was different.

She went to move and then felt it; an arm draped loosely over the top of her waist. Immediately startled, her heart began to race as she turned over to see it was only Lauren's arm. Then her heart continued to race for other reasons.

Lauren was still asleep, her features peaceful and relaxed. Whether the extended arm was a pre-falling-asleep or post-falling-asleep move, it was endearing either way. Trying to imagine Lauren dreaming about her and then reflexively reaching out for her left Camila in shambles.

They had never woken up touching before. Not like this. And to think, Camila thought Lauren reciprocating her feelings was something of a dream—like a fantasy. Hell, Camila can't even believe she shared her own feelings! Yet it had to have been real; Lauren's arm on her waist being evidence enough.

Yesterday had been clumsy and awkward, both girls uneasy in this unfamiliar territory (especially with three other mateys perceiving their every move). Shit, they're still clumsy and nervous. But Camila likes it, she really likes it. And she really likes Lauren.

That's why last night, before Lauren had fallen asleep, Camila had scooted herself closer to Lauren.

"What're you doing?" Lauren whispered in the dim light yesterday, eyes barely able to keep off her lips.

"I don't know," Camila admitted, the curve of a smile pressed into the pillow. "I like being close to you."

Gaze heavy, Lauren inched forward to kiss Camila on the corner of her mouth. She then dipped her head, keeping her eyes on Camila as she rolls over onto her good arm. With her wound, it hurts to lay facing Lauren, but the easy closeness is worth it. It's familiar, so naturally, she misses her.

Her hand reaches back behind her, open and waiting for Lauren's to fall in and tangle with her fingers. A soft chuckle is exhaled a couple seconds later, and Lauren's hand drops into Camila's. Connected messily, Camila brings their hands over her side and presses them gingerly against her stomach.

Camila isn't ready for full on cuddling yet. But this, this is enough. Being able to reach out for Lauren is better than she could've dreamed. One day, she's hopeful to have the willpower to allow herself to hold Lauren within her arms, to fall asleep with her face buried in her back and their legs entangled.

A shy smile is hard to hide as Camila sits on the floor beside Normani, head full of little memories and recollections of her and Lauren's recent time together. She can't stop thinking about her—her bright green eyes, her dazzlingly grin, her raspy, kind voice.

"Thinking about your girlfriend over there?" Normani teases, extending an open palm to Camila. Since Camila still can't really do chores, she's been put on 'helping Normani build a table' duty until further notice. After her and Lauren's confessions, Normani actually changed her wrappings so her cut is feeling better than it did earlier this week. It's still really ugly, though. Camila got to see it when the cloth was removed and it's swollen, encrusted with blood, and hot to the touch.

Camila rolls her eyes, setting a hammer in Normani's hand. "Lauren isn't my girlfriend." She retorts. Lauren isn't her girlfriend, but Camila can imagine her being. It makes her cheeks glow pink.