You may think that to be a Cabello means to be a cold, ruthless tyrant. You may think that it is to have blood-stained hands and a complete lack of remorse for the lives you have stolen, in every sense of the word. You may even think that it is to be so terribly egocentric that you would murder your own flesh and blood to make it to the top of the pecking order. I know this to be false.

To be a Cabello means that you cannot close your eyes without revisiting memories which could pass as scenes from a horror movie, but willing yourself to sleep nonetheless. To be a Cabello means that you will do anything to protect your family, even if that means making a near-impossible choice. To be a Cabello means that you are a survivor, admirably strong, and deserving of seeing the more beautiful sides of life, the sides you were not allowed to even envisage.

Camila Cabello is the most beautiful woman, inside and out, I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. She constantly reminds me of this fact, even in her silence; even as she shakes in the passenger seat, leg propped up, head lowered to her knee so that she cannot see where we are going.

Sure, her interior is a little scattered, a little tarnished with spatters of inky crimson, a little confusing to navigate at times, but there is a certain fascination within her that can't help but radiate out to the rest of us; like how she will contently spend hours watching the clouds and telling stories with their shapes, and how she will be so curious about the smallest of things such as the woman with a chihuahua in her handbag who walked by on our way out of the thrift store, or how a microwave actually functions. She is childlike in this way and has brought back the child inside of me as I truly question, for the first time in years, the things that she notices and find a new appreciation for these details.

On the outside, she's simply a marvel. Every angle of her body seems tediously perfected, even when she makes a funny face to go along with one of her terrible jokes that I've heard a million times and still laugh at. It's the reason she can pull off that pink frock—which I still can't believe she bought and changed into when I asked her to 'wear something nice, but comfortable'—and the first way she drew me in.

"Stop staring," she mumbles, and I blush, looking back to the road. I haven't stopped glancing over at her for the whole journey. "Can I look yet?"

"Not yet, baby." I reach over to interlock my fingers with hers as the traffic light turns green. "We're almost there."

She shifts in her seat, visibly struggling not to peek. I smile, squeezing her hand. After a couple more turns and, thankfully, no more street lights, we pull into the parking lot. The moment the car's engine shuts off, she repeats her question. I consider the logistics of it, wondering if I could get her all the way down with my hand over her eyes, but then remember that I'll need her help to carry everything down. I grant her permission to look, and she raises her head so quickly, I'm surprised she doesn't give herself whiplash. Immediately, her jaw drops as her wide eyes take in her surroundings through the windows of the car.

"You didn't," she mumbles, making me laugh lightly. I nod, simply admiring the slight quiver of her lips, the awe growing behind her eyes, the way she squeezes my hand tightly. Then, all of a sudden, she throws my hand to the side and buries her face with her own, letting out a whimper as she begins to quietly cry. A deep trench forms between my brows as I unbuckle my seatbelt to lean across the centre console to wrap my arms around her. This certainly wasn't the reaction I was expecting.

"Hey," I whisper, stroking up and down her arm as she leans into me, "Hey, it's okay. Why are you crying?"

She quickly shakes her head and I feel her body swell as she takes deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. I hush her softly, still frowning as my eyes trace the distant horizon, where the ocean meets the sky. Eventually, she pushes me away ever so slightly with a hand on my chest, only to crash her lips onto mine before I can see her face. Her salty tears mingle with the subtle taste of banana still lingering on her lips, and I find myself leaning into the kiss. It lasts a minute or so before her hand pushes once more. When she looks up at me, her eyes are still full of tears even as they smile.

"I genuinely didn't think we'd be here," she admits under her breath. If I weren't so close to her, I wouldn't have heard a sound. I smile in sympathy, stroking my hand down her cheek.

"I promised, didn't I?"

Her grin grows and she chuckles, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand and looking back out at the view surrounding us. I sink back into my seat and give her another moment to collect herself. When she takes another deep breath, sounding almost like a content sigh, I turn to her once more.

"You ready to head down there?"

She hesitates for just a moment, then nods, unbuckling her seatbelt.

The moment I step out of the car, the wind blows my hair back over my shoulders, bringing with it the familiar scent of the sea. The sun is warming my skin, and I feel at home. She meets me at the trunk to help me carry our things down to the beach. Wanting to keep it simple and relaxing, I didn't bring much but I made sure to pack the essentials like a waterproof blanket and a picnic basket full of snacks. I also brought some folding chairs just in case, though I have a feeling she'll prefer to sprawl herself out on the blanket if she wants to watch the clouds.

I lead the way down to the beach, but I make sure to turn to watch her reaction as the small dunes fall away to reveal the expanse of white sand stretching out in either direction. Once again, her jaw drops before her lips curl into a smile.

This beach is my favourite as it's just far enough from the city centre to not be so heavily populated with tourists. There are very few people around, most of them jogging along the shoreline, so it doesn't take long to find a nice place to sit, far enough from the rolling waves to not have to worry about the froth reaching our seats but not too close to the dunes, so we don't have to worry about the creatures living amongst the reeds either. As suspected, the chairs remain folded off to the side as Camila opts instead to sit cross-legged beside me on the blanket. As she continues to eagerly soak up all the new sensory information—the sounds of seabirds and the crashing waves, the fresh yet salty smell, the mere sight of the beach in three dimensions, surrounding her—her hands shift from lying in her lap, to supporting her as she leans back slightly, to running over her thighs. It's clear that she's restless, so I lean over and pluck her flip-flops from her feet.

"Hey!" She calls, reaching out for the shoes, but I catch her hand and use it to pull her up to her feet so swiftly that she yelps, crashing into me once we're standing. Her lips part and her eyes fall to my clavicle, remaining there as she pants softly. I clench my jaw, admiring just how soft her lips look, how just past them I catch a tantalising glimpse of her cleavage thanks to the v-shaped collar of the dress she wears. My own breathing picks up ever so slightly as I slowly adjust my hold of her hand until I'm clasping her fingers like I might kiss the back of her palm as I help her cross a puddle. "Hi," she mumbles, raising her other hand to lay gently upon my chest as she looks up at me through her dense lashes.

I smile, my brow twitching upwards. "Hi."

Her cheeks turn a soft shade of pink as her decadent brown eyes flicker between mine. "Why do you look like that?"

"Like what?" I frown, watching as her lip draws between her teeth before she soothes it with her tongue.

"Like you're about to cause trouble."

I didn't consider it before, but now that she mentions it... I smirk, holding her hand tighter in my own. Her eyes widen, but I interrupt her coming question with a kiss, during which I kick off my sandals, before taking off towards the ocean, dragging her along with me. She yells out in shock as she has no choice but to run after me, to which I laugh loudly. When the incoming tide eddies around our bare feet, she yelps, struggling to pull her hand from mine. My mission a success, I let go, turning to watch as she pulls her dress up from her ankles, though the hem is already dampened. My denim shorts, however, are perfectly dry. She looks to me with a glare, though I can tell she doesn't quite mean it. I shrug, putting on my most innocent face, and watch as hers melts and her attention turns to her feet as the water drags away. She shimmies her feet around, tipping her head before looking back at me with fear in her eyes.

"I'm stuck!" She exclaims, trying more desperately to squirm free of the sand as another wave washes up around us.

Apparently, laughing isn't the correct response to the situation as she only narrows her eyes to glare once more. "Okay, okay." I step towards her, holding out my hands. "Take my hands."

She glances down, then back to me. "My dress..."

"It's fine. We can wash it when we get home," I reassure her, and she huffs before dropping the fabric into the water, clasping my wrists with her hands and using me as leverage to tug her feet free. She almost falls, but I manage to catch her. She doesn't let go of me, even as she swirls her toes in the froth of another wave.

"I don't know what I expected," she hums, shifting her weight so she doesn't sink again, "but I didn't think it'd be warm."

"Yeah?" I asked, wriggling my hand from her grasp to push my hair over to one side so it won't be in my face now that I'm facing away from the sea.

She looks up, a suppressed smirk fighting to break free. "Yeah," She agrees, launching herself at me so harshly that I tumble back. Her laughter bubbles above me as I splash down into the shallow water, wincing slightly at the hard sand that catches me. A bigger wave than the others forms as if to ensure that I'm truly sodden from head to toe. I gasp at the assault of water, wiping at my face so that I can reopen my eyes. When I do, I catch sight of her covering her mouth slightly as she laughs, bent at the waist. Taking advantage of her closeness, I grasp her arm, managing to wrangle her down on top of me. She gasps, pushing on my chest to gain leverage as she sits up. I expect her to continue until she's standing again but she remains straddling me, holding out the parts of her dress that are floating in the water with a pout.

"You bitch," she whispers, splashing a small amount of water towards my face. I raise a brow and watch her trace it with her eyes before huffing and settling more on top of me. I smile, sitting up with my arms behind me to support myself.

"You're the one who pushed me in," I point out, which makes her smile again.

"Yup," she agrees, popping the 'p'.

That same intensity from earlier fills the moment, and she seems to notice if the sparkle in her eye says anything. She slowly leans in, and I slowly lean back onto my elbows, then further, until I'm lying on my back in the sand, her hovering over me. My arms find their way around her waist as she cups my face, sandy palms a little gritty against my skin. She grins before she connects our lips. Our jaws move in sink, and the feeling of the sand rushing away from beneath us along with the outgoing water only adds to the floaty feeling she gives me, while simultaneously rooting me in the physical moment. This kiss might be my favourite; it feels simply heavenly—until water rushes between us and up my nose and I shoot up, spluttering at the sting that it brings. She leaves my focus as I desperately try to rid my nose and throat of the intrusive feeling, but no matter what I do, the burning sensation remains, bringing tears to my eyes. Only when I hear a groan do I turn to see her sitting in the water, rubbing at her forehead with a screwed up face.

"That is not how that was meant to go." She pouts, squinting up at me.

I laugh, adjusting my shorts before holding out my hand to help her up, apologising for, I assume, hitting her head in my rush to get up out of the water. She brushes me off, contently following me back to the blanket after I claim that "we should probably take that as a sign to stay out of the water for a while."

When we reach the blanket, I return to my previous cross-legged position while Camila shimmies over to the basket and rummages about inside. I'd offer to help, but the way her dress clinging to her now that it's wet has me rooted to my spot admiring the view. I don't realise she's stopped moving to look over her shoulder at me until she chuckles, tossing a small tube of chips my way. I snap out of my staring to catch it, smiling sheepishly as she shakes her head and turns back to the basket to retrieve a tube of her own. I try to focus on opening the tube, but it's hard to miss the way she seems to purposefully arch her back a little more. Once satisfied with the tube in hand, she sighs and flips the basket closed, shuffling back to lay with her head in my lap. My mind shoots back to the last time we were in this position and tears prick in my eyes. We made it, I remind myself. Back then, I'd been so unsure of the future, but we made it.

We sit in silence as we eat, occasionally catching one another's gaze, bringing a blush to both of our cheeks. Only when I lean over to put my empty tube back in the basket, her already having done so, does she speak up.

"Y'know, that takeout place never got back to me."

My brows furrow. "After your interview? It's been a while, hasn't it?"

She nods, chewing on her lip. "I just think they don't want to tell me that I didn't get the job, which means I have to find somewhere else."

I nod slowly, my hands finding their own way to her hair as I begin to play with it. "We'll find somewhere," I mutter. Then, an idea sparks within my mind. "Hey, what about something with kids?"

"Kids?" She frowns, tilting her head to the side.

I nod. "Yeah. You're really good with Sofi, and I know she's a little older but... Do you like kids?"

She shrugs. "I used to take care of the little ones sometimes when my parents were out on business. It was pretty fun."

A smile breaks across my face. "What about a daycare place?"

She seems to consider it, but her demeanour shifts to a much sadder one within seconds. "They wouldn't want me."

"Hey," I sigh, tilting her chin up until she meets my gaze again, "They trust you with custody of Sofi. We'll find somewhere who'll trust you at daycare, too."

She sighs, but nods, leaning into my hand in an attempt to look away.

"Hey, look at me," I instruct, and she does, we'll get through it."

"Promise?" She asks with a glimmer of hope dancing in her light eyes.

"Promise." I nod. She smiles, raising one of her hands to entwine her fingers with mine. She sighs softly and settles in silence once more. It doesn't last long, though, because she soon shifts like she has something to say. She waits, however, until I look back down at her.

"Lauren?"

"Hmm?" I hum, still chewing on my last mouthful.

"Um..." she pauses, looking off to the side before back at my eyes. "What are we?"

I frown and, although I think I know the answer, I ask, "What do you mean?"

"Well, y'know..." she sighs softly, once again reaching up to let her hands lay in my lap, though this time she clumsily toys with the waistband of my shorts. My stomach tenses are her touch, though she seems to be innocent. "Are we girlfriends now?"

Heat rises from beneath the collar of my t-shirt, and I gulp. "Do you want to be?"

"I've never had a girlfriend before," she admits quietly, shifting so that she can continue to lay on me while looking out to the water.

"Me neither," I return. She looks up at me with a frown. "Why do you look so shocked?"

"You seem more... experienced, I guess," she shrugs. I purse my lips, supposing that it makes sense, and shrug too.

She smiles. "Will you be my girlfriend, Lo?"

Now, I'm sure the red has travelled from my neck to the tips of my ears. Even upside down, she's gorgeous, and her question is simply unbelievable. Before my silence can worry her or grow awkward, I nod. "Yeah." I smile, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Yeah, I will."

She grins too, squealing until it turns into a laugh as she writhes in my lap before reaching up for the back of my head and pulling me down to kiss me once more. It only lasts a couple of seconds before she releases me, nudging her nose with mine. I don't think I've ever been happier than in this moment.

Karla was my case study, a simple psychological point of interest. Camila... well, Camila is who I like to think I was supposed to find all along.