To You, Graceless (CAMREN)

19 - You Have Created a Monster Out of Me

***I KNOW I'M SUPER LATE but I am not abandoning this story. I feel like this has become boring but I can't rush. Details are necessary as everything comes together. But I will edit this all to make it cohesive. Blahhh! Soon, my friends. Soon. Thank you for 2,600 followers!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry if there are tons of mistakes, I am terrible at writing these days and I've written this sporadically in 2 months or so. ALSO, ecosia.org plants a tree for every 45 searches you make. It's a search engine. :P And no, they're not paying me to do this. We need more trees, though!

Camila's heart raced.

It slammed against her ribcage as an assault of bullets rained down on their targets, the crackle sounding a lot like a morbid drumroll in helpless discord, while shell casings landed on various surfaces with sharp clanks. Her steely gaze never wavered and she could taste adrenaline coating her dry taste buds as the pistol bounced between her hands each time she pressed down on the trigger, one after the other until her magazine was emptied.

A deep, pacifying breath in, she lowered her weapon and unloaded the magazine, and then deposited the gun in her holster before she raised her hands as instructed. The glasses and earmuffs were next to go. All that was left was for her to retrieve her target to see if she passed.

And yet, no matter her performance, victory had already swelled in her chest as relief rained down on her like a deluge, loosening her taut muscles.

She'd come a long way from the cowering girl some fourteen years ago, when the sight of the smallest of guns squeezed out all of her valor, and the slightest noise backed her into a corner, knees pulled to her chest and hands desperately pressed against her ears.

It haunted her for another four years, dreams riddled with the same dark movie and concluding with her sweat marred skin as she desperately gasped for air while cradled in the protective arms of Ynes, her grandmother.

Over the years her nightmares sporadically scattered until they only came once or twice a year, the last one being the night after she made promises with her touch to Lauren in Las Vegas.

That night did not take her life.

It took her naivety.

But there she was, steady on her feet, hands tingling in the wake of her weapon.

Camila, Dinah and Normani were in the range for requalification two days later, having decided on going together after Dinah's evening shift.

Dinah's eyes gleamed as she showed her target to her friends, beaming from ear to ear. The dents she created were tightly situated within the center point, no bullet strayed beyond the first two narrowest and innermost rings. She was a sniper and was phenomenal at long-range shooting, one of the reasons why Agent Vega didn't need much persuasion when Camila requested for her to be sent to Las Vegas.

Camila was one of the best but Dinah was better.

"Hey, babes," Camila called for Normani, faltering at the last minute when she recalled Lauren's discomfort after discovering her playful pet name for her friend. She plastered her best smirk to avert questions and thankfully it worked.

"Yes?"

By Camila's tone alone, Normani should have known better and decided not to humor the girl but she fell for her trap before she could even think about it.

"Don't you want to give Miss Sniper over here a big fat kiss on the mouth?"

"One of these days, you're going to get yourself in trouble for that." Normani warned her friend, fully aware of the hollow threat. She consciously kept a hard gaze trained on Camila and only Camila while Dinah looked elsewhere, seemingly unsure of what to do with herself.