Broken Walls

27. Beginning of the End

'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable

And life's like an hourglass, glued to the table

No one can find the rewind button, girl.

So cradle your head in your hands

And breathe... just breathe,

Oh breathe, just breathe.

- Anna Nalick.

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Camila stared at her reflection in the long, oval mirror. Her brunette locks had been swept up and clipped at the back of her head. Long tendrils hung down, just brushing the tops of her shoulders and creating a frame of her face. She glanced from side to side, unsure if this was the right look or not. Shawn preferred her hair down. He always took out her clips and ponytail holders when she wore it up. But Hailee insisted that, with this particular dress, keeping her hair up would accentuate her shoulders and the deep, open back of the gown. As she stared, Camila had to admit Hailee had a point.

A trio of tiny, sparkling spaghetti straps curved gently over her pale shoulders. The sheer layer of black and its lines of glittery beads hugged her figure perfectly, while the inner silk slip lay cool and soft against her skin. Camila slid her hand down the dip of her side and closed her eyes. Her mind drifted immediately to when Shawn had done the same thing that morning.

She'd awoken curled into his chest, the sheets a tangled mess at their feet. His breath rose and fell against her as his fingers traced up and down the curve of her bare hip. She snuggled in closer and he bent to brush his lips on the top of her head. If there was any place on earth where she could spend the rest of her life, this was it. There, in his arms, tucked away from everyone and everything else. Camila lifted her chin and kissed the middle of his chest, not stopping until she'd traced a line up his neck.

Shawn shifted next to her and gently pushed her onto her back. The warm softness of his skin sparked against hers. Her hands glided up his forearms and rested only once they moved over the arc of his shoulders. Their eyes met and Camila could see that his were not dull and tortured as they had been the night before. Now they shone, twinkled even, like he'd purged himself of everything that had been eating him up inside.

She wanted to ask him again what had happened, why he'd broken down and cried in her arms. But the look he gave her now suggested he had other ideas. He bent and touched his lips to her jaw, just under her ear, and whispered, "Good morning, beautiful."

Camila closed her eyes and smiled, letting the vibrations of his voice wash over her. "Good morning." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. His mouth continued to work, peppering kisses over her flesh. "Shawn ...?"

"Hmm?" he hummed into her neck.

As much as she didn't want him to stop, she tucked her hands around his face and moved him to look at her. "Are you okay?"