You're My Wonderwall (Fifth Harmony- Camren Fanfic)

Yellow Paint

Vincent van Gogh use to consume his yellow paint, just purely because he believed he could extract the happiness from it. People called him crazy and mad for doing that. But, personally I don't think he was one bit "crazy" or "a lunatic". Because, I think when you're nothing but sad and lonely, when you're falling into this black void that has no end. And, no matter how hard you try you can't rid your blues or fix your errors. Whether it's drinking, smoking or drugs I believe we all have our own versions of our "yellow paint".

***

I woke up in a haze, everything felt so distant. Like, I wasn't actually here. Images came rushing back. The party. The girl. Her house. You.

I pushed myself up, covering my naked body with the blanket. I looked around, this wasn't my room. There were discarded clothes sprawled everywhere, shoes tossed on the floor. That was, most likely, due to me and my urges. The white blinds stopped the light from attacking my squinted eyes, but still allowed the moon-light to illuminate the dull room. White walls imprisoned me, there were no posters awkwardly hanged up. It didn't feel like home. It didn't feel right. Although, there were small pictures, of people that I did not recognise, placed on the side-table. I couldn't quite make up their faces, due to the fact it was still quite late. There were textbooks opened up, with pens laying over the pages. She was, probably, cramming for an exam.

Even with this sense of un-stability, everything seemed to have some kind-of place. Unlike me. I did not belong here.

The side of the bed, next to me, slightly moved. I finally realised someone was sleeping next to me, I should've realised that earlier. The girl from last night, that I forgot the name to, started to wake. I did not want some unwanted encounter, about whether I was going to call her later or not. I wouldn't of, even if she did give me her number.

So, this was my queue to leave, I waited for her to fall back asleep. Once I heard her little snoring, again, I started to make my departure. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, and met the cold floor. I shivered in distaste, how can someone wake every morning with the feeling of cold floor-boards.

I quickly found my clothing, and quietly placed them on. I found all my pieces of clothes, besides my bra. I guess that can be a token of my "gratitude". I slipped out of the girl's room, and down the stairs.

Her parents were still asleep, being the fact it was about midnight. I'm still surprised that she was even allowed to bring me home, due to her folks. I'm certain they knew I was here, we couldn't of been too quiet. The girls I've been with in the past never were. She would be waking to a stern lecture from her parents later, about safe sex and using a condom. Which I find hilarious, parents never expect me to be a girl or their daughter to be a raging lesbian.

But, I will admit it, it was nice to wake up to someone else in bed with me. Even, if it wasn't you. It gets, kind of, lonely and dissatisfying constantly waking up to a thrashed pillow. It was, some-what, pleasing to hear my one-night-stand's snores be the only thing making noise. It was nearly perfect. Nearly.

•••

I didn't feel like going back home, being in that secluded house. Seeing all those pictures we took together, knowing we will never take another photo, with just us. I thought about calling you, but I didn't. You have to be in the mood to be met with a dead-line.

So, instead I punched another number into my phone. I waited for the person to answer, if they even were. There was this girl I met in middle-school, although we didn't go to the same high-school and we haven't talked in years. We were close, inseparable, back then. And, I still felt like we were close friends. She was younger than me nearly by a year. I remember she had one of the biggest smiles, and a bigger heart. With her tanned skin and wavy hair, she was always the loudest of the group.

"Hello?" The Polynesian girl said, to my surprise. She was obviously angry, yet too tired to argue with me.

"Hey, Dinah" I muttered and sat on the bench, that was conveniently near me."It's me, Lauren. How's it going?" I nervously shook my leg.

"Lauren?" she said questionably, probably trying to fit my name with a face, "Oh! Lauren, why are you calling me so late. We haven't talked to each other in years"

"Exactly. I thought maybe we could meet up, or just talk," conversing was never my strong suit.

"When?", the younger girl clearly trying to hold in her annoyance.

"Now," I said firmly, "I just need someone, anyone."

"Lauren.."

"Please," My voice started quivering, I was desperate and it was obvious. Dinah relented but eventually obliged, "Okay, meet me at the café, near the old park in two hours. I still need my beauty sleep."

"Okay, thank you." I hung up and began my long walk.

The funny thing about love is that it hits you when you least expect it, by those you never saw coming. You could be sitting near someone who've you never had any connection with, before. Then they do something so subtle yet so fascinating; it could be their intoxicating laugh, or the way the bite their lip in frustration, or when they stick their tongue out in concentration. Anything, really. But, it always hits you like a sledgehammer. It pulls your face into theirs and screams into your darkened soul; "You love her!" But, the funnier thing is, how this intoxicating and over-taking emotion that can make you the happiest person. Can easily destroy you, because more than always you fall for someone that will never love you back.

***

"Camila, wait up!" I yelled out, as I ran after the girl of my dreams. I have no idea how I became so fortunate for her to want to be with me, to choose me. But, I never wasted one moment with her.

She was walking with one of her friends from her maths' class, I didn't really know her since I only took one class with her and rarely talked to her. But, I think her name was Normani. They were laughing about something, probably another bad joke from Camila.

I couldn't hear her but I could feel her laugh drum through my ears. And, her smile, it was a beauty in it's self. That little smile she has that can light up the whole room, and her little teeth she sticks out. I can't help but stare. And, oh, how she'd tilt her head back just ever so slightly, and grin from ear to ear open-mouthed. Not like some fool but a goddess. You were able to see her un-even teeth but you knew they were perfect. And, when she releases that simple yet heavenly laugh. I was truly lucky.

I eventually caught up to them, I was drained but I soon regained my breath. Camila instantly gave me a small peck on my lips and continued talking with Normani. She interlaced her fingers with mine, and swayed it while we walked. I knew this was selfish but I just felt left out, like I wasn't even there. I knew it was idiotic to even fabricate the idea that Camila doesn't care anymore, but she's just been so distant lately. We'd always make plans but then at the lat moment she'd pull out or bring another friend without even consulting me. It was selfish but this is how all my relationships end. One of us, usually them, stop trying. They stop talking, stop making heart-filled eye-contact, no more hugging or holding. And, eventually nothing. No warning or anything but a simple; "I don't love you, anymore." And, I can't go through another heartache, especially Camila's.

I couldn't take it anymore, we've been walking for at-least 10 minutes to who-knows-where. And, they haven't even tried to join me in their conversation. It was just them laughing and chattering, and me being the typical envious and lonely girlfriend. I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to do it, but I just left. I slowly let go of Camila's hand, she didn't even notice anything. Of course, she didn't. She just used the hand I was holding to further pronounce what she was saying. I just sighed and left.

Camila would deny it but I knew I was loosing her. I knew eventually I was going to loose her. And, I'd rather let go than her throw me on the ground stepping on each of my shards that once made me whole.

I could've tried harder but at the end of the day she was my "yellow paint", and addictions either break you or you break them.