Her Light

XXIII

Camila is put on taking care of Lauren duty while Normani sails the ship, and it's rather fitting because this is how they started. Isn't it? And now it's how they're ending.

Throughout the day, Camila has been fetching Lauren things like food and water. She's been helping her get comfortable, being an ear to listen—just generally being around her in case she needs anything. Thankfully, Lauren had a medical box on this ship and Ally was able to stitch up the long cut, wrapping around from below her breast to where her side begins to curve to her back. She cleaned it, put two gauze pads on it, and secured it with a wrapping bandage all the way around her torso, right under her breasts. And now they're letting Lauren rest.

Thoughtfully, Camila glances over at the bandage. Ally told her she has to keep it dry for this first day, and if it gets wet, to switch out the pads and pat it dry. Lauren has her shirt off, clad in only a bra, as she lays in her own bed. She's fiddling with her fingers at the edge of the blanket pulled up to her mid stomach.

All day, Camila has been pacing around this room awkwardly. It's so... Lauren. So much more Lauren than she ever thought she'd ever see. There's a wooden closet in the corner with a wooden dresser right beside it, a table in the corner with scattered supplies on, a desk in the corner left-below Lauren's bed (which is somewhat in the middle of the cabin). The walls are the same wooden brown as the deck, but there's numerous amounts of hooks holding prized possessions (Camila's assuming) up to display. Everything is jostled slightly, as whenever the boat comes up to a big swell, everything shifts as it pleases.

Unsurprisingly, Camila paced with fascination and a little bit of envy. She wishes her room was this authentically pirate.

Camila is sitting in the chair in the corner, facing away from the wooden desk it probably usually faces. Sat somewhat timidly, Camila sighs under her breath as her features contort gently.

"You're being weird." Lauren's voice pulls her attention to her.

"What do you mean?" Leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, Camila frowns.

Lauren shifts slightly, wincing as she settles back into the bed. She props her head up on her knuckles, gazing over the blanket at Camila. "I mean... you're just sitting over there like we're strangers. All quiet and stiff. Come." She pats the small space next to her on the bed.

With a soft exhale and roll of her eyes, Camila drags herself to her feet. She slumps her way over to Lauren, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Lauren laughs quietly, "well, not exactly what I wanted, but it will do."

Camila stays silent, her hands clasped together in her lap. Biting her bottom lip uncomfortably, Camila creases her forehead.

"What're you thinking about?" Lauren asks from behind her. A finger trails down Camila's spine and her whole body reacts by quivering quickly and suddenly.

"You." Camila murmurs, her eyes cast down at the deck.

A pleasant hum emits from Lauren and Camila smiles at the noise. Uh, she smiles. Naturally caving, Camila turns, throwing her legs onto the bed and sitting cross legged, to face Lauren.

"I was thinking about what Mel said to you." Camila admits, and truthfully she was. But obviously more is on her mind. She doesn't want to fight with Lauren so she doesn't mention it. "Can I... say something about it?"

For a moment, Lauren is still. Then she turns nearer toward Camila, and hums gently in confirmation. Eyes gracing over her wounded area tilted in the air, Camila takes a deep breath.

"You're not perfect." Camila tells her, frowning down at her open and empty hands. "And I don't think you should ever be. It makes you... better when you're not perfect—when you're not perfect, there's little notches and cracks to adore. You did everything you could in that moment, when he stabbed you, you did all you could. And that's enough."