To You, Graceless (CAMREN)

17 - Today Has Been One Hell Of a Day

***This is long and boring but I needed to update cause it's been too long. I'm sorry. I've been very busy. Super behind on replies but I love you guys and I'm trying to keep up but blahhh real life is blahhhh. I hope you have the greatest day! Oh, and shout out to badthingswithu for making an entire reading list of all six of my stories. Thank you so much! I love you!! 

"Get out of here!"

Protect. Camila's instinct yelled at her. Deafened by its overshadowing voice, she couldn't stifle the severity of her tone or the harshness of her penetrating gaze – barking out a demand like she would a subordinate under a critical situation.

It was most definitely not the way to address a wife; specifically, her wife.

Hell, if anyone spoke to Lauren that way, she would personally introduce herself by offering her hand...around that person's neck while muttering threats in lieu of her name.

Fear swam amidst the fury in her eyes and she was grateful that the perpetrator couldn't see it. A loved one within reach of an armed assailant was a liability, a weakness so easily exploited.

And only Lucky's negated luck could invite her wife into that mess.

It could be worse, Sinu Cabello's absurdly optimistic voice rang in her ears as it always did under the worst of circumstances, and had it been a different situation – anything at all, Camila would have been mocking her. Her mother was clearly underestimating what could only be called a curse, Camila's curse and no one should test it as it was bound to show them the absolute worst.

She'd like to live, Camila would point out.

Frankly, though farfetched, Camila was waiting for Theodore to show up with Anya and reveal his true identity, an accomplice to what should have been an easy crime. And there was no doubt in her mind that that would spell out her demise.

Normani would slaughter her.

That was granting Lauren let her live with the way she was speaking with her.

Well, the way she was yelling at her.

"I'm not l-" Lauren's protest was feeble in her rigid stance, taken hostage by dread. The mere sight of the wielded knife was weakening her knees, exacerbated by the fact that it was against her wife's throat.

Funny how the terrifying gaze of danger could charm even the smallest flicker of courage out of a coward whose scared of losing somebody they care about.

It was funny, hilarious even.

Except it wasn't.

And Lauren wasn't necessarily a coward.

Camila just happened to be a ballsy cop – slightly haughty and a lot more reckless.

"I said get out of here!" Camila reiterated, louder and far more menacing than she previously sounded. She had to ignore the way her wife flinched at the noise and sent her a blazing glare amidst the new kind of fright emerging in her eyes; Lauren was afraid of Camila. "Now! Damn it!"

Camila watched as her guilt materialized before her eyes, embedded in the retreating figure of her wife. Lauren was hesitant in her first step and the succeeding ones weren't any different. And while she may have scurried away like Camila demanded, the detective couldn't seem to erase the expression she wore as she was yelling at her.

She never wanted to see it again.

Although, Camila couldn't focus on it just yet, not even to make sure the footsteps grew even more distant. She was a little preoccupied at the moment, a predisposition it seemed – to shove justice down society's throat.