Buzzed Hearts

76: heartbreaker eyes

SMOOTH, SLOW, AND SOFT. Tender, touching, and tentative.

Fuck. Is all that goes through Camila's mind as Laurent's hands touch her waist. And Camila doesn't swear. Not even in her head.

Eyes screwing shut, she places both hands firmly on his (firm) chest and ends the kiss.

"I can't," she says, chest heaving. Whether it was lack of air or effort to think, it remains unknown. All she knows at the moment is that everything is wrong. Her heart's not in the right place and neither is his, she feels.

Laurent's brows knit together, and under normal circumstances, Camila would find it cute.

"Why, Mila?"

"Because."

"Why?"

"Because I don't know you!" she blurts out. "I don't know you anymore. You can't just...ugh...You can't just kiss me after what, six months? And come back like we're still in high school? I've been in college working my ass off not thinking about you and here you are."

"Mila..."

"No," she says, pushing his hand away.

Elevator ride forgotten, Camila sits down on the floor, trying to gather her wits when all she wants to do at this moment is cry. Not because she's sad (maybe she might be), but because there's a terrifying amount of emotions thundering in her chest—far too small to contain the storm.

Slowly, Laurent crouches down next to her, trying to console her, making hushing noises.

"I thought you liked me," he says.

Ignoring him, Camila says, "What happened? Why did you stop talking to me? Why did you suddenly start ignoring me?"

"I got busy."

"Is that the best explanation you have? That you were busy? We're your friends, Laurent. You should be able to tell us stuff. You should be able to not kiss me after all this time."

His jaw tightens and he studies the hotel floor.

"I thought you were with Andrew. So I backed off."

"What does that even mean?" Camila cries. "Nothing you do makes any sense. Why do you kiss me yet say you don't want me? Why do you—"

"Because I don't know!" Laurent says, frustration starting to settle in. "You make me feel all this shit, and I grew sick of it so I thought maybe it was time to let go."

"You told me to wait." Camila suddenly remembers that night. "You told me to wait. Like some lapdog."

"No, I never—"

"Don't be jealous if you made it clear you didn't want me. You stringed me along, Laurent. I didn't want to believe it but god, imagine how long this would've gone on. Wait. For how long? For how long?" Her voice gets rough before she breaks off, a lump lodging in her throat. Tears start to spring from her eyes and she wills herself to keep it down. "You don't have the right."

He stays silent. Then, his head raises and looks into her, with his heartbreaker eyes set perfectly in his heartbreaker face, all the way connected to his heartbreaking heart. "Did I—?"

"Yes," she hisses. "You made me feel this way for months."

"Look—"

Confused and tired, Camila grabs her bag and heads to the stairs, eager to get some fresh air. Feet moving quickly, she's down a flight of stairs before Laurent calls out her name. Shaking her head, she runs down the stairs faster, hoping he never catches up to her.

He never does.