Camren One shots

The Girl From The Hospital

It has been exactly five minutes, twenty seconds since Lauren Jauregui stepped into the hospital waiting room. It has been two minutes since Lauren felt she could breathe properly, and two minutes since the most beautiful girl she has ever seen walked through the door.

She possesses something, this girl. In a black and white hospital room, devoid of all vibrancy, she is a blinding color; almost painful to look at for too long. In a sea of expressionless cardboard cutouts she has a spirit about her, a liveliness that fills her eyes with vivacious energy. Lauren doesn't even know what her name is, and she swears she's already enamored with her.

"What's your name?" The receptionist asks in a bored tone.

"Camila. Camila Cabello."

Her voice is high pitched, but unwavering. It has a childlike, whimsical quality interlaced within it. It makes Lauren think of carefree laughter and pristine innocence.

"Sorry, but we're up to a one hour wait for Dr. Elliot. Would you like to reschedule or simply wait? We overbooked, we can try and fit you in as soon as possible.

Camila brings her hand up to her elbow and scratches it slowly in consideration. "I really should just wait."

"Suit yourself," the receptionist says. "Take a seat, we'll call you in when we're ready."

Lauren holds her breath. The waiting room suddenly seems the size of a city. There is a surplus of places that Camila could sit where she'd be completely out of Lauren's view. The prospect of having to wait the rest of the hour without Camila within eyeshot seems exceedingly lonely.

Camila hesitates as her eyes survey the room. It is the first time Lauren notices the bandages placed haphazardly over Camila's arms, exposed from the hiked up sleeves of her sweater.

To Lauren's pure delight, Camila's final choice of seat is only two chairs away. The other girl sits, pulls out a book larger than Lauren's head and begins reading. As she reads, her finger drags along the page and her mouth ever so slightly forms the words.

She has the longest lashes Lauren has ever seen. They frame her eyes perfectly. Her eyes, which now Lauren realizes, are the color of espresso, accentuated by the long black line painted on her upper lid. Luckily she is so absorbed in the cream pages of her novel that she doesn't even notice Lauren's painfully obvious gaze.

Lauren knows she has to get up the nerve to say something, anything to this girl. She knows she cannot live her entire life wondering if Camila was her one shot at a soulmate and she sat idly by while the universe laughed at her for not grasping the opportunity. But she also cannot stand the thought that Camila is not everything she has built her up to be, that when she tries to talk to her Camila will roll her eyes and call her loyal boyfriend to tell him all about the crazy girl next to her in the waiting room.

What are you reading? It is an easy question. She just has to say it, and if she gets a one word answer, she'll take the hint. What are you reading? Lauren rehearses it in her head.

"That book is freaking huge," Lauren blurts instead. She doesn't know where it came from or why she said it. She only knows that she regrets it the moment it comes out of her mouth.

Camila raises her head. Lauren is sure her cheeks are the same color as the blood pumping in her veins.

"It's Les Miserables," Camila explains. She holds up the massive book in order for Lauren can see the title spelled out in black text across the cover.

"Is it interesting?" Lauren attempts to salvage the conversation after her impulsive comment.

Camila lays the book back her lap. "No," she answers honestly. "But I hear it gets better."