The Princess and The Bandit

TWENTY NINE

* * *

For the second time around, Lauren found herself wrapped again in the warm embrace of her companion. She opened her eyes at the break of dawn in a paradise of green with a waterfall for a backdrop and flickering fireflies for a subtle lighting, for the embers of the fire has long turned into cold ashes in the dead of the night.

A chiseled jaw on a beautiful face that instantly warmed her heart perfected her early morning view.

She didn't bother to try to figure out how she ended up like that but savored the moment instead. And no sooner than she began to appreciate the beauty of Camila's face, she was then met with those soulful brown eyes; rich like the swirl of hot cocoa, but also subtle like a glass of old whiskey, it was somewhere in between.

It felt like falling.

Gravity holds her firm, but looking at those brown eyes, it felt like falling.

Lauren opted not to dwell on the thoughts of how or when exactly it started to feel this way, what changed and how did it all come to this, she forced herself to think about her pursuit of revenge instead, her quest of confronting Brad and his treachery, how to accomplish that without getting killed or betrayed once more.

She avoided Camila's penetrating gaze, broke herself free from that wonderful embrace even when the rest of her demands to be enclosed within those firm and strong arms, get lost in a pool of golden brown. She went to grab their stuff, pulling out that left over roasted rabbit and a few berries from the previous night's meal for today's breakfast.

Ideally, one of them should've stayed up to be on the lookout, especially with what just happened with Shadow, the griffin. But somehow, after their consumption of their humble dinner and that confrontation with the young griffin hunter who unwittingly brought back Shadow to them, both princess and bandit fell asleep.

In each other's arms no less . . .

No particular words were exchanged, just the basic need for comfort and warmth.

"Would you like me to check on your bandages before we eat?"

Camila nods, staring at her.

It was unnerving.

But Lauren moves on efficiently, uncovering the bandit's bruises that are now looking like a faint patch of red instead of a black and blue stamp the size of a cantaloupe.

Indeed, Simona's healing balms are a thing of miracle.

"The coloring looks faint now," she says as she lathers another dollop of that healing balm on Camila's skin, pushing away her other urges, "It still feels a little tender though. How does it feel for you?"

"So much better. Thanks,"

Lauren finishes wrapping up Camila's torso with fresh new bandages. Then both of them quietly shared their first meal of the day. She wanted to talk about their kiss, their embrace that seems to just happen so naturally whenever they fall asleep, but she has become tongue tied.

As she picked on her roasted rabbit, Camila eventually took her out of her misery of trying to think of what to say and speaks up.

"About yesterday, the kiss . . . It was very inappropriate of me to come to you that way. I never meant to offend you, or violate you. I'm sorry, I just . . ."

Baffled at the bandit's sudden candor, Lauren felt like she doesn't want to hear that the girl regrets it. It would hurt her, because for whatever its worth, she doesn't regret anything about that kiss. But at that moment, it seems like regret is the very thing the bandit implies.