brighter than the sun | camren au

plane rides and forevers

Music. She tried music. During the entire flight, she kept pulling her headphones out of her bag, only to put them back in a song or two later. Distracting herself was pretty much impossible, too present were the memories she'd made. Memories of all the moments she'd spent with Lauren.

They were ingrained in her brain. Not even listening to her favorite band could do anything to ease the pain she was feeling, the pain that Lauren walking through security and leaving her behind had brought her.

She couldn't stop the incessant worries that were nagging her in the back of her mind, doubts that Lauren really was at home waiting for her call. Waiting for her.

Camila sighed. She knew this was pointless. She hated making assumptions, hated over thinking, yet could never stop. She groaned and closed her eyes, leaned back into the gray worn out seat.

It had been such a good time with Lauren. The best time. The only seven days she'd have wanted to remember should she have suffered from an amnesia. Lauren had been gentle with her, caring, and she had a great personality. She had also been passionate, claiming, rough–when she'd needed to be. When Camila had wanted her to be.

It was the perfect mix. Along with her sense of humor, her sarcasm–Camila knew that she'd fallen. After confessing that to herself, she had inevitably been spending all her time thinking about Lauren. Whenever she had not had to focus on anything, her mind had automatically wandered to the girl.

Just like it had now.

Lauren. Lauren. Lauren.

She didn't care about the blue sky she could see through the tiny window next to her, didn't care about the movie they were showing.

There was only Lauren.

It had been good. She had been good. So good, in fact, that Camila yet again wondered if, maybe, it had been–was–too good to be true.

Maybe it had been a dream?

No, no, surely not. Lauren had definitely left her impression, her marks on Camila's body. She blushed as, suddenly, images of a naked, sweaty Lauren flashed inside her mind. Biting her lip, she tried to push them aside.

It worked. But not in the way Camila had wanted to. She'd wanted not only to get rid of them, but rather of all thoughts connected to Lauren, if only for a while, especially since she knew that later, closer to landing, she'd freak out worse than she had.

Instead of that, however, some twisted part of her reminded her that people lied. Sure, she hadn't had Lauren lie to her yet, and she deeply believed she wasn't that kind of person, but the depressed, the still unconvinced part of her wanted her to be worried again. It got so bad within seconds–her heartbeat accelerated and she began sweating, not being able to handle one more second of over thinking–that she was sure she was going into cardiac arrest. Before being able to become fully aware of what exactly was going on, however, she passed out–fell asleep, finally–probably with the help of a few of her body parts desperately wishing for her to catch a break.

Waking up was– it was fine, at first. She stretched in her small space, yawned, and– and accidentally caught a glimpse of her watch.

She was going to be in Miami in a little under an hour.

Her insides obviously did not like that fact. Especially not her brain. Her constant thoughts–which had, thankfully, at least left her alone for the two and a half hours prior to this moment.

Her brain was on overdrive within moments after that. Her emotions, fears, thoughts started running amok. It was kind of like the Hunger Games–the last one standing would win. It was to no one's surprise–least of all Camila's–that anxiety won. And, boy, did it win. It pumped its fists in the air, spun around, intent on showing its surroundings it had.