My Favorite Camren One-Shots

Don't Wanna Be Your Girl

It’s just not right,

It’s just not right,

It’s just not right.

“You can’t keep doing this Lauren, not to me and not to yourself,” Camila said almost in surrender as she slapped the bills in her hand down on the counter. She just wanted to come home and have a nice conversation with her girlfriend of three years about her day, but the green eyed girl still sat on the couch with a half empty bottle of whisky in her lap.

“What am I doing exactly?” Lauren asked snarkily, her voice rough because of the alcohol. She set the bottle down on the wooden coffee table and turned her body towards Camila expectantly.

Camila sighed, she really didn’t want to fight right now, but she couldn’t let Lauren off with a hundredth warning. “You’re just tearing yourself apart Laur. You aren’t the person you were a couple years ago; now you just sit on this couch and drink until you can’t remember why you even picked up the bottle. I know this is your way of coping, but it’s been almost two years, I was hoping you would have found a healthier way by now.”

“Camila, my mom died-”

“Trust me, I know,” Camila interrupted and folded her arms, she’s heard this excuse too many times. “I know it’s hard Laur, I’d be upset too, hell, I’d feel like my world was falling apart if I lost my mom. You just can’t ignore the pain, you have to experience being hurt to feel better. Drinking is just delaying that and some day you’re going to realize that and it’ll be too late.”

Lauren opened and closed her mouth, trying to decide on a response, but Camila was right. Maybe it was already too late.

I don’t wanna be your girl no more,

I just wanna see your face at home.

Camila inched the door open slowly, she was afraid to look inside and see what state of health Lauren was in. It was the two year anniversary since the raven haired girl’s mother died instantly in a car crash. Surely Lauren wasn’t going to be sober, so Camila needed to prepare herself for what she was about to witness. With one more deep breath she stepped into the room, she didn’t see her girlfriend on the couch in front of the TV like she usually was and furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. It wasn’t until she took a few more steps into the apartment that she saw Lauren passed out on the floor in the middle of their kitchen. Camila dropped her purse and covered her mouth in shock, her body was surrounded by a broken bottle of bourbon. The golden liquid soaked into her hair and shirt and a few glass shards stuck out of her skin around her arms and shoulders.

“No, no no no,” Camila dropped to her knees and swept Lauren’s wet hair out of her face. She desperately patted her cheeks to wake her up and listened to her chest for that familiar heartbeat, it was so faint that she almost didn’t catch it, but it was there. The same comforting sound that accompanied her on the nights before everything went to shit. Before, the rapid thumping in Lauren’s chest made Camila blush, but now the slow, near-death beat made all of the color in her face vanish.

She scrambled from the floor to where she dropped her bag and pulled out her phone to dial 911. Once the operator picked up Camila tried to collect herself and control the shakiness in her voice. “M-my girlfriend is unconscious on the floor in my apartment,” she drew in a wavering breath while the woman on the other side of the line spoke. “Yes, she was alone. She was drinking too, there’s a whiskey bottle broken on the floor next to her,” she gently rolled Lauren on her side like the lady asked her to do,”yes, I did it. 91st avenue apartment number thirteen on the first floor, just please come quick before anything serious happens, thank you.”