just a dream (camren)

forty one

June 16th, 2017

Camila hasn't called her.

Lauren knew that leaving might've been a bad idea, but Camila had looked so overwhelmed, and she needed to let Dinah know that Camila had forgotten everything. They had to figure out a way to make her remember again.

(If she can remember again.)

Either way, Lauren hadn't expected Camila to just drop off the face of the earth the way she has. She thought she'd call, or at least text. After giving her a week to reach out, Lauren decides she's going to take matters into her own hands and show up at any place Camila might be at.

But that plan completely falls apart.

Naturally, Lauren doesn't get much chance to harass Camila into talking to her, because she gets sick. As in, call into work, can't leave her bed sick. It's like she has a cold and a stomach bug at the same time, because she's puking, and she's so congested she feels like she's in another galaxy.

She's laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering how the hell she got so sick so fast, when there's three consecutive knocks on her bedroom door. After a few moments, the person enters, and Lauren rolls over, her eyes widening when she sees Camila, awkwardly staring over at her from the doorway, holding a travel mug.

"Hi," Lauren manages to choke out, throat hoarse from her illness and lack of use, "missed you."

"I- um, yeah," Camila stammers out, staring at her, adjusting the black bow on her head; Lauren wonders where she salvaged that from. She bites down on her bottom lip, before she approaches, holding out the mug. "I- um, brought you a hot chocolate. My special recipe."

"Thank you," Lauren croaks, pulling her blankets up. She takes a sip of the drink and places the cup on her bedside table. Camila hesitates, nervously rocking on her heels, looking anywhere but Lauren. "Come cuddle. I don't... think I'm contagious. Or maybe I am, but that'd give me an excuse to take care of you if you got sick."

"I- I- um," Camila bites down on her bottom lip, but awkwardly shifts forwards and gets under the covers. When Lauren snuggles up to her, Camila tenses, and her arms don't loop around Lauren's waist like they used to. Instead she just bites down on her bottom lip and looks anywhere but the older girl.

"Camila," Lauren moves to look up at her and plays with her hand. "You're my girlfriend. Why are you acting so afraid of me?"

"That's... that's it," Camila mumbles, meeting Lauren's gaze for a moment before she looks away, still as tense as before. "I don't... I don't know how. And- and how I... I did and- and said those things to you in- in bed... and- and when I'd make fun of your- your work uniform, I'm just- I'm sorry. I didn't- didn't have the... the right to talk to you... like that."

"You were only teasing," Lauren assures her, even though her throat is killing. "Besides... you know I like that. I... I like it when my girl puts me in my place."

She expects a laugh, a speech about how I knew you were a bottom, but instead, all she gets is an awkward cough. "But I don't... I don't know how to- to do that, I mean, I can barely even... even look at you without- without panicking."

Lauren frowns. "Why?"

"Because you're just- you're so beautiful and it's... scary," Camila admits, biting down on her bottom lip. "I swore... swore I'd never talk to you. But then- then it was like... I just- I don't know what came over me and- and I'm sorry that I've just... that I'm not really... the girl you like. Because it's like- it's like all my self-hatred has come back in full- full force, and I don't know... how to even- to look at you. It's... it's okay if you want to... break up with me."