Lauren liked watching Camila.
Her cute nose, her ears and her cheeks, begging to be touched. Her mouth moved against the pillow like she was speaking, no words. Her skin with tiny moles and faint smile lines, secrets Lauren could only see if she looked close enough. Look deeper, look closer, find what's inside.
It may have been creepy to stare, but Camila had crept into her room at night to stare at Lauren before. Lauren thought this was only fair. She was just repaying the favor.
Also, Camila was... Lauren wasn't even sure of the word, but she never wanted to look away. Their bed was warm and welcoming, and Lauren would have been happy, actually happy like she'd never knew she could be, to lay there and stare forever.
Camila's cat seemed to have other ideas.
The plaintive meowing had started just as Lauren woke and only gotten louder and more insistent over the next hour. By now Elvis's howls were a constant, miserable thing. Camila must have left her door open at night for the cat to sleep in her bed. Or perhaps Elvis just didn't like sharing his human with Lauren.
Whichever it was, Lauren wished the cat would be quiet because Camila's eyelashes had begun to flutter. Lauren had soothed her back to sleep with a hand in her hair and a soft word twice, but now light was coming in through their window, highlighting Camila's angles, and Lauren knew the moment would soon end.
What came next, Lauren didn't know. Her head spun with uncertainty.
When she looked back to the crinkle she'd been studying just by Camila's eye, Camila was watching her too, her eyes half lidded and sleepy.
"Do you know you have a scar on your eyebrow?" Lauren murmured. "Tiny scar, right here."
Her fingers reached out to touch like she'd been wanting to all morning and Camila made a curious noise. Lauren's thumb grazed delicate skin.
"Oh," Camila said softly, and reached out questioningly. Lauren didn't think she pulled away but Camila's hand never quite touched her face, stopping short.
Camila rolled back, eyes on the ceiling as she stretched, hands against the headboard. The single blanket she'd had wrapped around her feet, hogging most of it from Lauren, slipped to the floor. Just Camila and Lauren on a bed together, their toes brushing.
Camila tilted her head, watching Lauren from an odd angle, a funny smile on her face.
"I missed you," Lauren said, and wasn't sure why.
"While I was sleeping?" Camila asked. Her voice was low and drowsy, hair ruffled endearingly.
Lauren shrugged against the pillows, stretching an arm above her head to bump Camila's on the headboard. "Sort of. Maybe before that? I don't know, it's early."
Camila hummed agreeably, her eyes drifting shut like she might consider going back to sleep. Lauren hoped for a moment that Camila would, so she could go back to shameless staring. Not that she wouldn't stare when Camila was awake, she was just slightly more shamed about it.
Lauren didn't know what the right thing to say was after everything Camila had trusted her with. In the morning light Camila still looked like the same Camila as always. She still felt the same at Lauren's side, the same way Camila had felt curled up against her the first night. Camila hadn't changed, and Lauren didn't know if she should have to say anything at all.
Maybe they could plant Ben's glasses in the garden.
Camila's fingers tickled Lauren's skin, two fingers crawling up Lauren's arm until Camila's hand was in her hair. Her eyes twinkled, mischievous as she began to play with Lauren's hair, humming a song to charm the hidden snakes.
Lauren closed her eyes, charmed herself, melting back into the sheets as Camila cuddled closer. "Missed you a lot," Lauren said, Camila's nose tickling her cheek lightly.
A crash sounded from the hall.
——-
"Sorry, Grandma," Lauren mourned as she swept the last piece of a shattered antique lamp into a trash bag. Camila was leaning against the wall nearby, Elvis in her arms as she cooed lovingly at the cat.
"Poor Elvis," Camila said, scratching behind a triangular ear. "That horrible lamp attacked him."
Lauren shook her head fondly as she tied the trash bag shut. "I think Elvis is lying to you, Camz."
Camila huffed, offended. Elvis simply purred under her hand. The cat always had Camila's loyalty but Lauren figured it was only fair. Elvis had been there for Camila longer than Lauren had, and she could appreciate that. Lauren liked the cat significantly more than any of Camila's other previous companions, anyway.
As Lauren swung the bag of broken glass back and forth sharp edges clinked against each other piercingly. Camila's attention snapped to her immediately, alert and inquisitive.
"There's music in your bag," she said, a tiny smile growing as she reached for the black plastic.
Lauren pulled it back. "It's music with sharp edges."
"That's the best kind," Camila insisted. She tried to grab for the trash bag again but Lauren ducked out of her reach, slipping past Camila down the hall.
She didn't make it far. Camila attached onto the back of Lauren's sweatshirt, stretching it back and holding tight so Lauren came to an abrupt halt. "You cannot throw music away," Camila said, sounding scandalized. "Not anymore. You know better, Lolo."
"But it's broken," Lauren protested. She knew Camila didn't like for anything to be thrown away, but the lamp was all glass and sharp edges and Camila liked it even less when someone started bleeding.
"It's not broken," Camila said as she pulled the bag of very broken lamp from Lauren's hands.
"No, hey, no." Worried, Lauren tugged on Camila's arm, Camila ignoring her efforts easily. "It is broken. You'll hurt yourself."
"You could have one broken thing," Camila said, moving with purpose into the kitchen. She opened the bag and turned it over, promptly pouring out a pile of shattered crystal onto the kitchen table. It sparkled and clattered and Camila beamed. She lifted one shard up to show Lauren proudly. "Or you could have many new things."
Lauren examined the broken glass in Camila's hand, thoughtful. Camila had brought Lauren many new things. Camila herself was a new thing, something beautiful from something broken.
"That lamp never worked anyway," Lauren decided. She grasped the glass from Camila's open palm and planted it on the windowsill where it could reflect the light.
"Perfect!"
"Yeah, perfect," Lauren said, laughing. She found a vase in the cupboard, collecting the rest of the glass pieces in it and setting that on the windowsill as well. The light reflected in colorful rays. It did look cool, Lauren had to admit.
"You see?" Camila leaned forward to tap Lauren on the nose. "If you'd thrown it away you couldn't see how it shines."
"That would be sad," Lauren agreed. Affection pulled at her chest, seeing Camila's cheerful mood. Even more after the night before, Lauren was relieved to see Camila content and happy. "How would I keep your attention without anything shiny? You might get bored and wander off."
Camila's eyes narrowed. "I would not," she said, taking offense. "I belong here. You said so, remember? You already said so."
Camila's fingers found their way to the hem of Lauren's sweatshirt, collecting a fistful of fabric in her hand. She held on possessively, tilting her chin to Lauren as if challenging her to take it away – take what she'd given away.
Lauren had only been teasing, really, but it didn't stop her from asking, "Forever, though? I mean, you can't stay forever—"
Camila looked hurt.
"No," Lauren interrupted herself immediately. "I mean, you can stay forever, you totally can, but someday you might want to, to... I wouldn't want it, but you might..." Camila looked more unhappy with every word, and Lauren hit herself on the forehead at her own stupidity. "Please stay forever. That would be cool. We'll have pancakes every morning. Do you want pancakes?"
She tried to step away, flustered, but Camila still had her hand curled around Lauren's shirt and wouldn't let her go.
"You want forever," Camila said.
Lauren wasn't sure if Camila was asking her or telling her but she nodded dumbly anyway, feeling like a jerk for ripping the smile off Camila's face.
Camila's smiles were precious, her good mood, her happiness. Every breath that puffed from her lips was one more than she might have had. Every breath Lauren wanted to protect, to protect Camila.
The thought of forever made her chest fill warmly, content and relieved at the thought of never being without Camila. At the same time, it burned and ached, the thought of never being without Camila, but never really being with Camila, either.
Bittersweet, but Lauren still knew the answer. "Forever. Of course, forever. You and me, okay?"
Camila and Lauren and the wall between them.
"Pancakes," Lauren said, clearing her throat and trying to pull back. She found she couldn't again.
Camila stood in front of her, swaying back and forth slightly with her fingers threaded through Lauren's. Just waiting.
Lauren hadn't even realized they were holding hands and she wondered whether she'd been the one to reach out or if Camila had. Camila was looking down to their clasped hands thoughtfully. Lauren tilted her head, trying to catch Camila's eye. "I'm going to need that back. It's, you know, my hand. I use it for stuff."
When Camila glanced up, her gaze was too perceptive and she squeezed Lauren's hand in hers. Lauren tried not to squirm under her stare.
"You could take it back," Camila said, her voice gentle. "I would let you take it back, Lauren."
"Take what back?" Lauren asked, biting at her lip. She didn't think Camila meant her hand. Camila's hold was a little too tender, her breath a little too close. Too much or not enough, Lauren wasn't even sure.
"Promises don't count if you don't mean them," Camila confided.
"Promises...?" Lauren trailed off, realization dawning.
I'll never be that for you, she'd said. I promise.
She could take it back. Take back the promise she'd made. One Lauren didn't know if she'd meant at all, even then. Her heart wrapped desperately around the idea. They could start all over again. It could be different. Why shouldn't it be?
She could have what she desperately needed, she could have Camila. She could love Camila the way Camila wanted to be loved.
She could, but she didn't know if she should. It still held her back.
"I'm sorry," Lauren said under Camila's unwavering gaze. She didn't know if it was an apology for promising something she didn't mean or an apology for not taking that promise back.
A smile twitched at Camila's lips and she hummed a familiar song, twirling away from Lauren to flutter over the rainbow light reflecting around the kitchen window.
Lauren moved after her, standing at Camila's side to watch the light reflect when she really wanted to be watching Camila. "I promise I'm your soul mate," she said. Even she wasn't sure if it was a rejection or acceptance.
Camila only hummed, her fingers dancing around the light.
"Hey," Lauren said softly, catching Camila's fingers where they were curling over the edge of the vase, edges of broken glass scraping her fingertips.
Camila pulled back, looking mildly disappointed.
And that was exactly why. Exactly why Lauren couldn't give Camila everything she wanted. Because Camila didn't think enough, wasn't careful enough. Camila wanted Lauren to love her, and Camila wanted to cradle broken glass in her bare hands. Lauren couldn't let the glass hurt Camila – Lauren couldn't hurt Camila.
"It's not that I don't want you, you know," Lauren said, rubbing her thumb against Camila's wrist. "You know that. You know that better than I do. It's just...I worry. You make me worry. It's not that I don't want you."
"Don't be scared," Camila said, touching Lauren's cheek.
An insistence that she wasn't scared stuck to the tip of Lauren's tongue, but she never let it go. What point was there in lying to Camila, anyway? Camila always knew before Lauren did, everything Lauren did.
"I am," she admitted. Camila tilted her head, interested. "I worry that you won't look out for yourself. That you'll cut yourself on broken glass. That you'll get confused while you're chasing the stars someday and go back to that old building. That you'll get sick when it rains, and that you'll get heatstroke when it doesn't. Hell, I worry you'll fall down and drown in a lake—and there's not even a lake for miles, but I worry about it anyway." Lauren swallowed thickly, hand clutching around the hem of her sweatshirt. "I just worry about you. I never worried about anything this much before I met you."
Lauren was thankful when she was pulled into a tight hug, Camila's arms enfolded warmly around her. Camila's hold was tender but surprisingly strong, shielding Lauren from all of the worries, even if the thing she worried about was Camila herself.
"I worry," Lauren said, voice thick against Camila's shoulder. "That you would let me hurt you if you thought I wanted to."
Camila was so attached to Lauren, vulnerable with it. She'd let people hurt her before. She hadn't known better than to let them hurt her. Lauren couldn't be one of those people. She didn't want to be something miserable from Camila's past, she wanted to be Camila's future.
Camila only smiled, sweet and gentle and still so vulnerable. "You wouldn't want to hurt me."
"I wouldn't," Lauren said, shaking her head fiercely. "I never, never would. But what if I did anyway? No one thinks what they're doing is wrong when they do it, you know, even the biggest jerks and the dumbest idiots. I couldn't... I don't want to do that. I won't do that."
If she didn't let Camila give everything of herself to Lauren like Lauren knew she would, then Lauren wouldn't be able to hurt her, not like you hurt the people you loved.
"How do you know what the mistakes are?" Camila asked. "Shouldn't they be the ones that feel wrong?"
Lauren found herself clinging tighter to Camila's frame when Camila tried to step back. "Maybe. I don't know."
Camila pulled away despite Lauren's protests. She felt exposed in the wide expanse of the kitchen, the air cold around her without Camila's hold.
"Maybe..." Camila repeated, turning away. Her voice had gone dreamy and her hands found their way to the shards of glass again, not quite touching. Her eyes were half lidded as she stared out into the sunlight, a sparkle of a rainbow from the broken lamp reflecting on her cheek.
"It's not that I don't want you," Lauren repeated dumbly.
Camila said nothing.
A sharp noise interrupted the silence, the ring of the doorbell.
Camila pulled back from the window, blinking rapidly. She glanced from Lauren down the hall, a tilt of her head that looked almost timid.
Lauren reached for her arm to hold on, to apologize, to simply touch, but Camila moved out of her grasp with a graceful easiness. She threw an odd expression over her shoulder as she moved down the hall towards the door. "Your friend is here."
Frowning, Lauren followed her. "My what? Who?"
Camila's eyes flickered to Lauren, indecipherable. Before Lauren could say anything else, Camila pulled the door open to a brown-haired guy standing on their doorstep. Lauren didn't recognize him.
"Lauren?" asked the guy. He smiled nervously, white teeth, blue eyes and attractive features.
Lauren frowned, looking him up and down. "Uh? Who are you?"
The guy gave a quiet little cough, swaying on her feet. He had his hands in his pockets, dressed in a black leather jacket with silver studs Camila would have appreciated. He didn't look like he was selling something, and he shouldn't have known her name.
"Hi," he said, lifting a hand to give a little wave. "Are you Lauren? I'm sorry if I have the wrong house..."
Lauren contemplated telling him he did have the wrong house. Rude, probably, but she didn't really care. She wasn't a fan of people invading on her space, especially not people who interrupted her time with Camila. Which was everyone, really.
"She is Lauren," Camila informed him helpfully before Lauren could come up with a suitable alias.
"Hi," the guy repeated again. "Good—great, I mean. I went to the wrong house before this." He waved his hand to a house across the street. "This old man opened the door – it was awkward. I'm Eric, by the way. My grandmother sent me over. She said you'd want to have lunch together."
Mrs. Smith's grandson. In everything that had happened in the last week, Lauren had forgotten.
"Oh," Lauren said.
Eric gave a nervous laugh, running a hand through his brown hair. "I know it's kind of – my grandmother is always trying to set me up. She's the meddling type."
"Oh," Lauren repeated.
There was no way she was going out with him anywhere now, today, after last night, after Camila close to her in their bed – but when she opened her mouth to say so, Camila spoke first.
"Do you want to be Lauren's friend?" she asked, voice light and curious.
The blue-eyed guy stared for a moment, glancing between Camila and Lauren as if it was a joke he didn't quite get. Lauren wasn't sure she got it, either. "I... um, I guess I do? Well, yes, of course. My grandmother talks about her – about you..."
"I'm sure she does," Lauren muttered, imagining all the things Mrs. Smith must have had to say about them. She didn't know why this guy would be there in the first place, really, with everything that he'd probably heard.
Eric laughed. "Oh, that's just how she shows her affection."
"She must love me," Lauren joked, shaking her head.
Eric nodded like he agreed.
"Oh god," said Lauren, dizzy at the thought. "I think I need to lie down."
Camila made a soft noise of concern, patting at Lauren's shoulder. She curled her fingers over Lauren's collarbone, a possessive hold. Lauren relaxed into it, expecting Camila to wave the guy off. Camila never liked it when Lauren left her alone, and she certainly wouldn't like it if Lauren left her alone to go on a pseudo-date with a good looking guy.
So Lauren was a little shocked when Camila used the hand on her shoulder to propel her a step towards Eric and said, simply, "Bye, Lauren."
"What?" Lauren asked dumbly, the world actually spinning oddly before her. The whole thing was dizzying. Camila's hand still lingered on her shoulder blade and Lauren would have been comforted except for the way Camila was acting. "Bye, Lauren?"
"No," Camila said, rolling her eyes, and Lauren was relieved for a moment before Camila continued. "You're Lauren. I'm Camila. Bye, Lauren."
Lauren blinked. "I don't get it."
"You'll have a good time," Camila was telling her, like it made any sense at all. "With your friend."
Lauren was dumbfounded. "Are you serious?"
Camila stared back expectantly.
"Are you—you want me to go out with him," Lauren said. "Really."
"You'll have fun," Camila said. The smile on her lips was not quite happy but not quite sad. Though Lauren was used to Camila being confusing she usually had some small idea of what was going on. At the moment, she didn't understand a thing behind Camila's eyes.
"No," Lauren said slowly. "I won't."
Eric cleared his throat quietly. Lauren glanced to him, utterly lost.
He gave a polite smile. "I thought—I'm kind of hungry? I've been waiting to eat because my grandmother said we'd have lunch—but if you don't want to..."
"She wants to," Camila told her, because apparently she had been misinformed. She stepped back from the door, back from Lauren, leaving a space open for Eric to come through.
With an uncertain smile, the guy stepped through the front door.
"You have so many sparkles," Camila was saying, flicking at a stud on his jacket as Lauren trailed after them into the house, feeling numb.
From what Camila had told her the night before, to waking up with Camila that morning, to being so close to something moments before, and then suddenly for Camila to be encouraging Lauren to go on a date – Lauren was more confused than ever.
Eric had settled onto a chair in the living room and Camila was naming studs on his jacket.
"You look like a lamppost," she informed him.
"I... do?" Eric looked baffled. "That's not a very nice thing to say..."
"That was a compliment," Lauren clarified as she slipped her fingers through Camila's belt loop, dragging her out of the room with a gruff, "Excuse us." Eric called something after them, but Lauren didn't have the energy to wonder what.
She dragged Camila into the bathroom, shutting the door with deliberate gentleness and resting her head against it, cold wood against her forehead.
"Okay," Lauren said, still facing the door. "What?"
"Yes?" Camila asked.
Lauren sighed, turning around to rest against the door. Camila was standing under the florescent bathroom light, brown hair soft around her face. She offered no explanation, as if wanting Lauren to leave to go on a date with a stranger was really not all that odd.
"I don't understand," Lauren said slowly.
As much as she felt confused by Camila, by everything sometimes, at least Lauren knew she didn't want to go out on a date with some guy who she didn't know, who she didn't want to know.
Except Camila thought she did. Camila wanted her to?
It didn't make sense. Camila never made sense – sometimes it was endearing, most of the time Lauren was used to it, and right now it felt completely unfair.
Can we go back to before the door rang, Lauren wanted to ask. I want to try again.
It seemed like Camila should have wanted to. Camila was always giving her second chances. But suddenly nothing was how it seemed.
"You want a friend, don't you, Lolo?" Camila asked. There was something in her tone that was unreadable to Lauren, and she didn't like that at all. "You should go with him. You'll like it. I want you to."
"No," Lauren said, folding her arms. "I don't want to. I'm not going."
It was uncomfortable to say no. Lauren would do a lot for Camila but if Camila didn't really want her to do it – and she couldn't, she just couldn't – it didn't count as denying her something she wanted, not really.
As always, Camila was stubborn when she was trying to get her way, even when she didn't really want it. "For me," Camila said, ghosting a finger over Lauren's arm. "Please, Lolo?"
Lauren shifted uncomfortably, still unhappy with denying Camila anything.
"I'll go with you," Lauren tried in compromise. "We'll go out together, have lunch. Walking, obviously, no car. But it'll be cool. You and me."
Affection for the idea was already swelling in Lauren's chest before Camila even had a chance to shake her head. Lauren frowned, folding her arms.
"Why not?" She asked, voice coming out whiny even to her own ear.
"You'll see," Camila said, smiling knowingly.
Lauren groaned, briefly considering banging her head against the wall. That was what disagreeing with Camila felt like anyway, trying to knock down a solid wall with your forehead. It just gave you a headache in the end.
"I'm not going," Lauren reiterated, unfolding and refolding her arms.
Camila hummed, tilting her head and taking in Lauren's stance. Lauren cleaned her throat and straightened up, trying to look firm and unwavering.
Unfortunately, Camila was unconvinced. "Come back soon, Lolo."
"I'm not going!"
"I want you to," Camila said, tilting her head and smiling peculiarly. Lauren didn't like the way it looked on her, a smile that was not a smile.
"No," Lauren said. "You don't. I know you don't."
Camila raised an eyebrow. "Don't I?"
"Nope," Lauren said, sure of herself now. "You don't like being alone any more than I like... You don't want me to leave."
The look in Camila's eye was soft and exposed, fragile like Lauren could break her in her hands. It might have been an admission, but Camila didn't let it go. "It will be good," she insisted.
It didn't feel good.
"Camila," Lauren said, rubbing hands over her eyes tiredly. "What are you doing?"
Camila shrugged her shoulders slightly, looking small. "How do you know what the mistakes are?"
She knew Camila was making a mistake. At least she knew that. Lauren sighed, tucking Camila's hair behind her ear. "I always knew you were a crazy person."
It was true. Camila would let Lauren hurt her. Camila wouldn't protect herself, would forget about herself in all her plans, in all the little, symbolic things Camila was so much more interested in than her own needs.
For whatever reason, because Camila thought she was still helping Lauren 'see,' or simply because Camila mistakenly thought Lauren would be happier with a stranger as a friend, Camila would send Lauren off with a guy who wasn't her soul mate.
But Lauren didn't have to let her. Camila had said it. Even if Camila would let Lauren hurt her, it didn't mean Lauren would do it. Not ever.
Exiting the bathroom with Camila's footsteps hesitant behind her, Lauren laid eyes on the guy again. He smiled at her, nervous and expectant. After a considering moment, Lauren said, "I hope you like pancakes."
——-
Lauren was supposed to show him around so she did.
"That's a tree," she said, pointing through the kitchen window. "It's not Camila's favorite tree, but it's probably in our top five."
"I see," Eric said, biting his lip. He was leaning against the wall, gazing out through the window with hesitant amusement.
Lauren nodded. "It has leaves, branches. You get it. Up there is a ceiling fan. Camila keeps hanging things from it and then they fly off when we turn it on."
"Exciting," Eric said, a twitch of a smile on his lips.
"Very," Lauren agreed. "There's a broken lawn ornament in the front yard, but you've probably seen enough. It's a lot of excitement in one day."
"Oh, I like exciting things," Eric said, his voice amused. Lauren nodded.
"That's Camila," she said, pointing to Camila who was eating a spoonful of brown sugar. "She's exciting, too."
Eric laughed softly. "You're cute, you know?"
"Huh?" Lauren asked, distracted when Camila poured half the bag of sugar into the pancake batter. "Yeah, she is. Camila, you didn't measure it—"
She left Eric quietly laughing behind her to bat Camila's hands away from the bowl, picking up the recipe. It was upside down.
Lauren rolled her eyes fondly. "There's not even brown sugar in pancakes, Camz."
"Yes," Camila said, licking a spoon. She pointed to the bowl of sugar, butter, and mysteriously, two gummy bears. "It's right there. See?"
Chuckling, Lauren dumped some flour in and hoped for the best. Eric had settled himself at the kitchen table, staring into the backyard. He didn't seem particularly upset that Lauren hadn't gone out to lunch with him. Camila fluttered around the kitchen with Lauren, assisting in what she seemed to think were all of Lauren's mistakes even though Lauren was only following the directions. Camila only waved vaguely to the recipe to indicate where it did indeed say pancakes required sprinkles.
She was smiling again and it looked real this time. Lauren threw a puff of flour at her just to see Camila squeal and laugh, white on her nose.
Camila threw a gummy bear at her and Eric laughed louder from the table. It felt surprisingly normal, like they were an odd couple with a houseguest and everything.
The pancakes finished in a half cooked, half-goo state, colorful and surprisingly tasty. Lauren settled down at Camila's side at the table, bumping her foot.
"My grandmother didn't tell me you were attached," Eric said, folding his napkin.
Lauren coughed, setting the glass of water she had in her hand down. "Uh..."
"It's so funny, because I kind of thought—well, obviously not. Anyway, she talks about you enough, I'd think she would have mentioned that," Eric laughed, shaking his head.
Lauren glanced at Camila out of the corner of her eye but Camila was contently ignoring all conversation for applying syrup to her pancakes in artful shapes that probably had some deep and symbolic meaning.
Lauren thought one of them looked like a penguin.
She couldn't tell him she wasn't attached.
She was attached to Camila, she was attached to being with Camila. If she didn't know what it meant, if she didn't know how it had happened, Lauren still knew it was true.
She was Camila's. She knew Camila was hers, too.
And, Lauren realized, there really wasn't any decision to make beyond that. As much as she did worry about it, about Camila, there was nothing for Lauren to change. There was no choice, good or bad, and there was no protecting Camila from any hurt Lauren might cause her.
Everything already was.
Whether she accepted it or not, Camila was set in waiting for Lauren no matter how long Lauren took. Camila was Lauren's soul mate.
Even a stranger could see it, so why shouldn't Lauren?
It didn't make a difference if she admitted it out loud, if they acted on it. It would always be there. It had always been there.
"Yeah, I am," Lauren said slowly. "I'm attached."
Eric stopped, fork halfway to his mouth. "I know? I mean, I didn't ask?"
Lauren blinked. "Oh. Right."
Camila was watching Lauren from below her eyelashes, hair falling over her eyes like she could hide her curious gaze. Lauren bumped her knee under the table, eliciting a content smile from Camila's lips.
Lauren felt very attached.