that's why our ribs are cages ➸ camren

chapter 7 ➸ connections

Just as she braced herself for the hard impact of the floor, she was instead met by two hands grabbing her and keeping her from tumbling back to the ground.

“Are you okay?” Lauren asked, wincing when the door slammed against the wall. She’d pushed her way in like a mad man when Camila had started to fall.

“M’fine,” Camila sighed. Lauren lifted her back onto her feet but Camila grabbed her forearm to keep her balance. Lauren didn’t move. “What…? How’d you know I was in here?”

“I just got home,” Lauren said, half-honestly. She left out the part about intentionally watching Camila.

“Oh,” Camila mumbled. “Well, I think I’m okay now. You can go to bed.”

Lauren nodded softly, unsure of what else to do. The second she let go of Camila, though, the smaller girl tried to take a step forward and let out an involuntary whimper when she put weight on her foot.

Seconds later, she was scooped up into a pair of two arms. Lauren’s arms.

“God you’re stubborn,” Lauren muttered, carrying the small girl into her bedroom. Camila was completely surprised by the whole situation and couldn’t find her words.

“Do you have any ice packs?” Lauren asked once they reached the bedroom, setting Camila down on the bed and making sure her ankle didn’t bump against anything.

“I… I don’t know,” Camila answered honestly.

Lauren just sighed. “Don’t try and go anywhere,” she warned Camila before jogging into the kitchen and searching the freezer. Finding a bag of frozen peas, she decided those would have to work for now.

“I found—“ Lauren’s breath caught in her throat when she flipped the light on in the room. She hadn’t realized what Camila was wearing. Or, not wearing. She was in only a sports bra and spandex shorts, which was normal attire for dance, but something Lauren wasn’t used to.

“I… uh, the peas… are frozen,” Lauren mumbled, holding up the bag of peas, which caused Camila to giggle.

“I see that, Lauren,” she scooted back on the bed, completely unaware of what had gotten Lauren so flustered.

Clearing her throat and trying to shake off her nervousness, Lauren walked over to the bed and motioned for Camila to lift her leg. When she did, Lauren placed a pillow under her ankle to keep it elevated.

Glancing at Camila for permission, she slowly placed the cold bag on the girl’s ankle. Camila took a deep breath.

“S’cold,” she mumbled.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Lauren laughed softly. Camila crinkled her nose and looked down at her ankle, which was still throbbing.

Lauren adjusted the bag until it was at a comfortable position on Camila’s ankle. She was about to speak when Camila broke the silence with a small ‘hm?’.

“What?” Lauren asked, turning to look at the girl. She was running her fingers over her hip, looking at it questioningly.

“Oh, nothing,” she shrugged, pinching the skin. “I just don’t remember ever getting these bruises, I’m a clutz,” the small girl laughed and placed her hands back in her lap.

Lauren squinted to look at Camila’s hip, realizing the girl as oval shaped bruises in the exact same place where Lauren was sore. Her client had been particularly grabby tonight. It was odd, though. Camila’s bruises looked faintly like handprints, but Lauren knew for a fact she hadn’t seen anyone but them for the past two days. What could they be from?