Riptide (a camren fic)

we're not that different at all

a/n: tw: self-harm/blood/suicidal ideation/suicide attempt

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It's a long night that turns into an even longer morning.

Camila hadn't slept. She couldn't. Her eyes had simply refused. Despite the heaviness. Despite the burning desire of slumber. Despite the minutes that faded into hours.

No.

Instead, she'd spent those painstaking hours just staring at the sleeping girl in her bed.

The sole light from her night stand lamp is faint, waning as the sky outside pales with the rising morning.

Dawn slowly seeps into her room, and yet, Lauren sleeps.

She breathes slowly, a gentle snore that flows into the quiet room. She looks so incredibly peaceful. Younger. Less troubled. The complete opposite of the state she was in those few hours ago.

It's a tragically beautiful picture, marred by the stray hairs that fall across her face.

Camila reaches forward, gently pushing them behind her ear. Lauren hums in her sleep at the touch.

She lets her fingertips linger, brushing along the outline of her cheek then her jaw, before curling away.

The smudged makeup is all but scrubbed completely from the night before. Camila had made sure of it. She'd wiped the tears from her red cheeks. The lipstick from her trembling lips. And she'd tucked her into bed. A feat that proved troubling when Camila couldn't tell whether Lauren was complying because she genuinely wanted to be near her or because she was still too drunk to blurt out any more truths.

Would Lauren have said any of it all sober?

Camila continues to study her silently. The words uttered in Austin Mahone's cramped bathroom haunt her just as they did all throughout the night. As does the anguish she painfully recalls in Lauren's glossy eyes.

"She loves you."

Dinah's voice breaks the stillness of the room. Camila lets out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. But it doesn't startle her. It's almost like she expects it.

"I know," Camila sighs wearily.

"You love her too."

She regards Dinah with a feeble look, before her eyes sweep over Lauren's face again. Taking in the smooth forehead, free of any worries or the angry pull of eyebrows. She traces over the bridge of her nose, settling on her slightly parted lips. She watches the rise and fall of her breath carefully.

She has her face memorized. She thinks she could be able to pick it in complete pitch darkness if she tried hard enough.

The knot in her chest makes its long awaited return.

She can't hide behind the pathetic pretenses anymore. But she couldn't even sort out Lauren's feelings let alone hers. Her head begins to hurt the more she dwells on her feelings. They bubble beneath the surface, waiting to boil over. She's simmering. She knows it.

The knot in her chest is tight and refusing whenever she tries to detangle it. But the more she sits in her own confusion, the more one thing in particular becomes crystal clear.

Lauren is in love with her.

And Camila couldn't afford to be.

She couldn't. There was nothing left to give. Besides the residual guilt festered inside of her, rotting everything she allows herself to come close to. Lauren had to realize that. She had to make her understand.