Long fingers combed through her dark hair, the soft morning light making her swollen eyes sting. She reached out a cautionary hand, only to connect with warm skin and a tight embrace. It took Camila a moment to find her bearings as she blinked the haze from her vision, the arm pulling her closer. Her body slid across the light blue sheets, comforting her as memories from the previous night came rushing to the forefront of her mind, sending a throbbing just behind her eyes.
She's back.
"Morning," Camila croaked.
"Hey."
Alex's soft voice filled the open room, her free hand tracing soothing patterns across her exposed skin. Camila had thought she'd seen the last of this; her crying and dishevelled, and Alex acting as her rock. She couldn't quiet remember the last time she'd woken up in this state; it must have been months. But every time she did, she'd wake up feeling worse than before. It had become a routine, so much so that Camila had stopped questioning it when she woke up in the girl's bed, strong arms snaked around her middle. Alex would never say a word; she'd just pull back her covers and hold her close until the tears ran their course. But something told Camila that this morning would be different.
Alex sat up, leaning her back against the wall behind her bed and pulled Camila's head into her lap, those fingers continuing to drag through her hair. Camila could tell when Alex wanted to say something; she would get unusually quiet, thoughtful somehow. Camila buried her face into her friend's cotton shorts, bracing herself against whatever was coming.
"Luke called."
A lump formed in Camila's throat at the mention of the man's name, Alex sensing her sudden change. The girl shifted beneath Camila, before dropping her black iPhone to the bed beside her, the slim object bouncing across the mattress.
"I told him to go fuck himself," she stated calmly.
Camila could feel her lips pull up at her words despite herself. The only time Camila ever heard her friend swear was when she was referring to him. There had always been something about Luke that got right under Alex's skin. Camila didn't pretend to know what that was, and never dared to ask; afraid of the answer. She didn't like to think of Alex in any way other than that girl who came to her house scared and upset when they were fifteen. Or the girl that had lain back on her trampoline in her backyard, watching the sky and forgetting the days.
"Thanks," she mumbled into Alex's tiny bed shorts.
"You want to talk about it?"
Camila sucked in a deep breath, her smile dropping from her face. The image of Lauren beneath her fingertips, of her being so close crossed behind her closed lids as she squeezed them shut against the assault. The lump only got worse when she remembered the look on her face just before she stormed out; that look of complete and utter helplessness. It was one she couldn't bear to see on the face she loved. But Camila didn't feel like she had the right to fix it anymore; she wasn't hers.
So she walked away.
"She's back."
"Lauren?"
Alex's tone was weary, probably wondering if the word was still taboo. But Camila nodded slowly, brushing her hand gently up her thigh to let her know it was okay; that hearing that word out loud wasn't going to reduce her to tears.
"She's my boss," Camila laughed humourlessly.
Alex stayed silent, waiting for her to continue, her fingers still absently playing with her fringe. Camila swallowed hard and wrapped her arms tightly around the brunette's legs, needing the security that always came with being close to her. Her brain mulled over all the words they had exchanged; those empty and bitter words. But there were three that stuck out among the rest that had her blinking back a fresh wave of tears.
