Not Just One Night

Chapter 48

Camila's POV

"Wake up lazy," I felt a pair of cold but familiar hands shove against my right side. I whined, turning over in bed, burring my face into the pillow.

"Go away," I grumbled.

"No," she snapped back. "Get up!"

It couldn't be late in the morning because the sun hadn't even made it to the side of the house that could be seen from Lauren's window above her bed and after a long night of barely any sleep, I refused to budge.

Lauren cried most of it but it was sporadic. Just as her breathing would even out and I'd think she had finally fallen asleep, another wave of emotion would hit.

And I hadn't known hard until I held a crying Lauren in my arms. It was the worst thing to see because I wanted to do so much to help her but I knew nothing I could say would.

All I could think about was how strange it was that two months in, we had ended up here.

On Thanksgiving, at her parents house in Miami, and me having to watch her struggle as the unfairness of life threatens to take from her.

Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that we've made it this far but it still isn't easy to see her hurting.

And if anything it made me realize, that I never wanted to. I never wanted to be the reason for a single tear that escaped her familiar eyes, and with the impending trial, I fear that I may be whether I want to or not.

I glanced back over my shoulder meeting bloodshot, puffy eyes. She smiled. It was forced but I could tell she was trying. "Where do we have to be so early?" I asked, raking over the schedule we had discussed last night over dinner. I stretched my arms involuntarily above my head. Her attention drifted to the small area of skin on my stomach revealed with the movement.

"Nowhere," she said. I reached over and snapped my fingers to pull her from her daze.

She giggled, looking up at me. "We don't have to be anywhere. Not now at least," she said. "Today's going to be hectic and crowded and overwhelming for both of us and I just want to spend the morning with you. Alone." She crawled back into bed with me. She was only in her underwear, still, and a t-shirt and I squealed as she forced her bare feet against my calves as she moved in behind me.

"Please?" she begged, curtaining her arm over my waist and she pressed her lips against my cheek, knowing she had already won.

I shook my head and I felt her smile into the second kiss. "Fine," I groaned.

"Thanks baby," she whispered, holding still for a moment before ripping herself away from me far too fast for my liking.

I whined at the loss of contact, looking over to find her standing at the edge of the bed, waiting for me to move.

She could be relentless, so finally I sat up, swung my legs over the edge and sat for a moment to collect my bearings.

After a few minutes, I stood, shivering with the cold of the hardwood floor beneath my feet and walked over to where Lauren was now fishing through her duffle bag on the floor. She came out with an outfit, kissed me quickly and then ran off to shower while I got my stuff together.

No more than ten minutes she was back. Her long, dark hair leaving patches of dampness against her pink tank top. I had stretched back across the foot of the bed, propping my chin against my stack of clothing, staring off at nothing, convincing myself to not fall asleep.

She walked over to where I was, kneeling on the floor, face to face. She pressed her forehead to mine and I closed my eyes at the contact. It was almost instinct to ask if she was okay although it was probably the most pointless question that I could speak because I knew she wasn't by the way she carried herself. Her shoulders were leaning foreword, her eyes still bloodshot as she leaned in to kiss me.