green ➸ camren

forty eight

Waking up early had become a habit for Lauren. Ever since Camila had come into her life, she was always the first one awake. Like a guard dog, almost. She liked having the first hour or so of quiet to herself.

Today was different, though. And Lauren knew well enough why she woke up with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Camila knew, too, because while Lauren was waiting for her coffee to warm up, she heard quiet footsteps enter the kitchen behind her. A small blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, and Camila leaned over her shoulder to press a soft kiss to her cheek before padding over to get her own breakfast.

"You're up early," Lauren commented, even though she knew why. Camila was aware of this, too, because the brown eyed girl simply shrugged her shoulders as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.

"Could not sleep," Camila offered Lauren a nervous glance while the green eyed girl retrieved her mug and cradled it between her hands. "I know you were in the studio last night."

Lauren nodded, confirming Camila's suspicions. "Couldn't sleep," she laughed weakly, leaning back against the counter and watching as the steam from her coffee drew patterns in the cold morning air. "Looks like we're in the same boat."

"You okay?" Lauren set her mug aside and held out one of her arms, opening the blanket and offering Camila the space beside her. Her wife simply nodded, yawned, and shuffled across the kitchen to lean against the green eyed girl's side.

"It does not get easier," Camila admitted. Lauren studied her wife, who pushed her tousled hair out of her face and shook her head. "Life... does not get easier. We just get used to it."

"Hey now," Lauren sighed. It'd been a tough few days for them. Camila especially. First Wolf's death and now... well, today.

"We get tougher, Camila," her voice softened, and she gained Camila's attention by using her full name. "That sounds more noble. It doesn't get easier, but we learn how to throw a few punches. Some more than others."

"She is too young," Camila sighed. She understood Lauren's words, she really did. But sometimes it was so much easier for her to sulk in her worries than to take the green eyed girl's advice. "It is not fair. It never is."

"I'd change it if I could, babe," Lauren reached out and gently slid Camila's glass out of her hands so she could lace their fingers together. "And I know you'd do the same in a heartbeat. But we can't. We can wish as hard as we want, but sometimes things don't turn out the way people think they should."

"I remember what it was like," Camila simply nodded instead of acknowledging Lauren's words. "Everyone... everyone was waiting for me to cry. But I did not."

"Crying isn't weakness, you know."

"I know," Camila shook her head. "But... I was thinking a lot. Because I wondered if all those people were crying because they were really sad for them, or... or because they were sad that they lost them. My cousin told me that he was going to miss them, and I remember thinking that he sounded pretty selfish."

"I was mad for a long time, too," the brown eyed girl paused for a few moments and watched as Lauren took a sip from her mug, nodding for her to continue. "At them. But... but I think I was just mad because I was too scared of being sad. Because then it was real. And I did not want it to be real."

"Funerals are never fun," Lauren agreed, running a hand through her hair. "You said it yourself. It's just a bunch of people gathering around and being sad together."

"I hate it," Camila shook her head. Lauren just nodded in agreement, wrapping an arm around Camila's waist and resting her head on her shoulder.

"That's why today's going to be different," Lauren shrugged. "I already asked Presley what she wanted to do to remember them. We decided we're going to plant flowers for by their graves and paint some rocks to place around them. I already got permission from the cemetery and everything."