Haven't Forgotten My Way Home (Camren)

Chapter Six

Camila Cabello's house stood directly in the middle of Carnegie Street, a fitting place for it, she thought. It wasn't that it was particularly big; just a two-story house with pale green siding, framed by trees on either side. It certainly wasn't glamorous; though the inside held a music room slash library with more books and vinyls than were probably healthy, she really didn't have anything fancy. Her government job paid well enough for her to be comfortable, and that was good for her.

But as she pulled into the driveway and cast yet another semi-worried glance at her passenger, Camila was glad she lived in the center of her street. It was metaphorical, almost; symbolic of how she wanted her home to be the center of her existence, because home meant love. Safety. Security. Home meant a relationship.

... Whenever she got one, that is.

She'd been ready for a while, Camila mused to herself as she put the car in park in front of the garage. Her bed, for one thing, was huge, king-sized. Too much of the time she felt small, terribly lonely, sleeping in it herself, but she knew one day she'd be curled up in the middle with her arms tucked around someone who needed her. Of course, the two metal rings at the top of the headboard gave her other thoughts. So did the things tucked away in the bottom drawer, or hung in the closet. She'd gotten a couple of them for her sixteenth birthday – which would've been embarrassing if it hadn't been the way their society worked. In fact, a person's sixteenth birthday was about more than just celebrating. It was a week-long rite of passage, in which Camila had been submissive to a Dominant friend of her parents. It was designed with the idea that to be an effective, caring Dominant, you must first learn what it is like to be submissive. There were strict rules in place to guarantee her safety, but Camila had been a sub for all intents and purposes, and had been punished for a misstep. She'd hated that part, of course, but it was necessary. She was Dominant, but she needed to know how "the other side lived," so that she would never, ever abuse the gift she could eventually be given.

And now, looking across at Lauren sat in her passenger seat, with her hands folded tightly around the papers in her lap – instructions to bring her back to the Home three times that week for her physical and emotional therapy – Camila felt the tears rush to her eyes, remembering. It'd been painful enough, that ten minutes of punishment when she was a teenager. She could imagine what it had been like for Lauren, every day...

She pushed that thought aside and reached out to lay her hand on top of Lauren's. She was trembling. Camila squeezed gently. "Ready?" she queried softly.

She didn't know why she was so nervous. She knew why Lauren would be, of course, but Camila kept telling herself that it was a visit. It was just a visit, and she needn't worry about anything. But that wasn't entirely true. It had taken another week for the Council to get the paperwork completed for Lauren's visit; a week of Camila spending every available moment at the House watching and spending time with Lauren. Physical therapy had become a little easier; Shawn was nice and though Lauren was still tense and scared around him, Camila was always there. In the back of her mind was always the fact that she'd called Lauren "my good girl," but Lauren hadn't mentioned it and Camila wasn't in any hurry to.

Lauren wasn't hers. Camila had no claim to her, wasn't thinking of making a claim on her. Though she'd be lying if she said she hadn't had at least one dream, in which she came home to find Lauren naked and kneeling at the door, waiting for her. But Lauren wasn't hers, so there should be no reason for Camila to be so worried about their visit. But she was.

What if Lauren didn't like it? What if she didn't like Jasper, even if Jasper loved her because he was a baby and loved everyone? Camila knew Lauren was becoming more confident in her interactions with her, and they'd dropped the "Green, yellow, red?" questions for more mundane things, but what if Lauren didn't like something and refused to tell her? What if Camila somehow overstepped her bounds and tried to dominate Lauren without a claim? She'd never do that, Camila knew, but still, her house, her rules...