Lauren sat on the pale cream carpet, her back against the edge of the bed, her features bathed in the traces of a setting sun. The conversation with Adrian had unsettled her. You're never going to find someone to love, he'd said, as if things were so simple. As if she could go up to someone and say, "Hey, want to go on a date sometime?" and live happily ever after.
If only she could love Adrian.
If only she weren't in the public eye.
If only...
She sighed and let her head fall back against the mattress. The painting she'd purchased earlier sat beside her, staring back at her expectantly whenever she glanced in its direction. She still didn't know why she hadn't packed it along with everything else, or why she kept staring at it.
It wasn't like her to be drawn to art, never having been one to spend time at galleries or museums. But there was something about the picture, about the loneliness it radiated, that called to Lauren in a way she couldn't explain. It made her feel less alone, sitting there in the silent room, watching as another pointless day faded into memory.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I love you." He said, turning to look at her from his place on the bed.
But Camila kept her gaze on the computer monitor, her Shakespeare paper a blank canvas on the screen. Do you? She wanted to ask, because she'd heard him, and because despite herself, she really wanted to know. "I love you, too." she answered when the time for truth had passed and all that remained was the sense of expectation.
"Do you want to do something later?"
"I'm trying to write a paper," she answered, looking at him, daring him to start a fight.
"After that."
"I'm not sure there will be an 'after' this. I think it's going to take all night."
"How long can that possibly take?"
"Yeah, well I'm not good at papers," she replied, an edge in her voice. "We're not all geniuses in this room, remember?"
Nathan sighed in thinly veiled exasperation. "Okay, look, I'll just shut up and leave you to your homework." He rolled off the bed and stood by the side of it for a moment, gazing down at Camila thoughtfully. "Dinner tomorrow?"
"Can't, family stuff."
"What family stuff?"
"Harry wants to talk to us about something."
"About what?"
"I can safely say that I have no idea."
"Oh."
Camila bit her lip and looked up at him. "I'm sorry, I'd invite you."
"No, it's okay. I guess I'm just not as part of the family as I thought."
"Nathan—"
"Sorry," he said. "If it's a family thing, then it's a family thing."
Camila bit her lip, opting to leave out the fact that Dinah had been asked to come along. "It's more of a Harry thing."
"And he hates me, right?"
Camila frowned up at her boyfriend. "He doesn't hate you. He just doesn't know you very well."
"Yeah, well he doesn't seem particularly keen on remedying that situation."
Nathan looked visibly upset, and Camila didn't know what to say to make him feel better. It was true that her stepbrother hadn't taken to Nathan; unlike the rest of her family, who practically worshiped him. She simply had no explanation as to why. "It's just one evening. I'll go, hear what Harry has to say, and then maybe we can get together when I get back."
