melancholy soundtrack to her smile (camren one shots)

the walls will fall before we do

Lauren is soft for Camila. She thinks she always has been.

Ever since she was just some doe-eyed hopeful on a singing competition that choked on her own tongue (nearly hyperventilating, actually) trying to tell her that she liked her shirt.

Camila is perpetually mortified by their first encounter. Lauren can't think of a better story for them. And it's a wonderful contradiction. But they kind of always have been.

She's only fifteen when Lauren first kisses her one night after an X Factor live show and it's terrifying for both of them how much they want to do it again. It's terrifying how much they want each other (even after countless tears, unnecessarily spiteful fights, and a handful of stupid boyfriends).

It should be enough when they stop everything to put an end to the not so subtle glances or even the late night visits and heated make out sessions every once in a blue moon but Lauren can't seem to stay away and Camila can't seem to tell her that it's kind of killing her slowly.

*

By the time their new tour is set to start Camila doesn't know whether to be excited about a new chapter in their journey or borderline nauseas at the pressure of performing like a broken laptop. Kind of like a glitch in the software, playing the same thing over and over and over and over until she can't function properly.

Of course there's also the added anxiety of lingering tension gnawing at her ankles every time she tries to take a step in the right direction. She thought the worst was over (and it was; she wasn't crying hysterically into her knees every priceless minute she got to herself and she wasn't wishing they never called her back into that room with four other girls who were told they weren't good enough).

It's been an exhausting year filled with more rumors and petty bullshit than she could ever care to endure. It's come to a point where she doesn't even feel like she's wanted in the group anymore or like she even belongs there in the first place.

But it's her job and there are people reminding her of what's important and a voice in the back of her head tells her that this is her dream and the drama, like everything, will pass.

Another voice tells her that things are getting better. They're not the same but nothing ever is. And that's okay.

Another voice, a much stronger voice that she wishes would just shut up for once in her young chaotic life, tells her that Lauren still loves her, and that she never stopped.

She tells herself she doesn't need to question it when she finally decides to open her Twitter only to be met with an onslaught of hateful comments and the same old, dried up snake jokes, edited album covers of the other girls without her and ridiculous theories of how hard she's trying to leave something that means more to her than anything some bored loser with internet access can say about her.

Not when she shuts it after getting her feelings hurt anyway as she takes a deep breath, turning her face into Lauren's stomach while she strokes her hair like the careful notes to a song Camila's never heard before but somehow knows all the words anyway.

"Just ignore it," she always tells her. And she always tells her. Every time. Camila's fine with it as long as her fingers keep playing her like a harp and her words keep echoing off the walls of her skull, lingering in the corners and making homes in the grooves and fissures of her brain.

"I'm never coming back from all of this, am I? It's never going to be the same again."

"People are going to believe what they want, Camz. You know the truth." She makes some sort of low hum instead of actual words and Lauren's fingers freeze in their tracks, trailing down the contours of her face down to the curve of her jawline that she was always so mesmerized by. She almost forgets what she's going to say because Camila is just so pretty without even doing anything and she always has been. So she leans down and kisses her instead. "I know the truth. Okay? We'll always know."