♛Cameron Dawson♛

Having Harley in the room just outside of the bathroom sends a jolt of unease up me. She had just experienced her first shootout and was now forced to stay with me in this rusty motel that ripped us off.

And despite how horrible the circumstances are, I can't help but feel thankful for the fact that she's okay. Sure, getting shot is a pain in the ass and it's now another scar to add to my body but I'm happy that it was me and not Harley. And it was somewhat relieving to have someone attend to me while I was in pain instead of having to do it for myself. In the past, it was Carla who would have stitched me up but when that came to an end, it was me who had to do it. However, tonight was different because Harley was the one sewing my wound closed and it was comforting to say the least.

But besides that, I'm also curious as to how she even knows how to stitch a cut closed in the first place. It's not like she's sewed it as if it was her first time, in fact it looks like it was one of her many experiences. And that raises a lot of questions in my head because why- why would a girl like Harley need to know something like that?

I look down at my wound and scrutinize it, coming to the conclusion that she's stitched it expertly- better than I probably could have.

I shake my head to myself. Now isn't the time to be asking such questions.

I run hand through my wet hair, making sure that there is no more remnants of my blood in the shower and I let out a sigh of relief from finally feeling fresh and clean- my blood washed off, and fresh clothes that I had in the black bag, on.

I open the door to the room and I notice Harley standing by the window with a phone to her ear and I watch her silently.

"We're fine Audrey." She says. "Yes. I promise... no we're at a motel in the town over... shut up!" She laughs and my lips quirk into a smile at the sound. I was expecting Harley to have a mental breakdown and freak out over everything that's happened tonight but instead she's being rather calm about it which has made it a lot easier for me. I don't know how I would calm her down if she broke down. Not that I would really blame her if she did- tonight was eventful in the worst way possible.

"Yeah, okay. Bye." She says before cutting the call and looking down at her phone in her hands.

"How is Audrey and Caleb?" I ask and she whirls around to face me, her eyes sliding over my appearance before settling on my eyes.

"They're okay. How are you feeling?" She asks and I shrug, getting up from the doorframe I'm leaning on to drop the black bag on the bed.

"I'm fine- aspirin will help with the pain."

She's quiet after that and I look up to see her staring at her feet. "I'm sorry you got shot." She mumbles and I watch her softly.

"It's not your fault. But I hope you can finally see why I told you not to come."

"I don't regret coming despite the events." Her brown eyes snap up to mine in confidence and I let out an aggravated sigh. Why can't she see that she could have being hurt? She could have being killed?
I would never be able to live with myself if Harley got hurt.

"When are you going to learn to listen to me?" I say coldly. "I'm just trying to protect you!"

"And when are you going to learn that I don't care? I wanted to support you and that's what I did." She exclaims, her hands flying up in frustration. I narrow my eyes at her.

"What if this was you who got shot, huh? What then?" I exclaim and she lets out a groan.

"Stop acting like my older brother Cameron! You're not! Okay? For goodness sake." She breathes out and I shut my mouth. "You're not my brother." She mutters softly, her eyes holding an emotion I can't quite depicter and I wish I could pinpoint why exactly I feel a weight on my chest. "I get that you care, Cameron, and trust me when I say I appreciate that. But I don't need you to care. I've learnt to do that for myself."

I watch her carefully, my shoulders slumping in defeat as we stare at each other across the room. The atmosphere feels dense and heavy and I want it to disappear. Why does it feel like there is so much more meaning to her words than what she intends for me to see?

"You don't get to choose who cares for you or not." I answer and she shakes her head.

"But I can try and protect myself from those who claim they care even when they really don't."

I stare at her quizzically, tilting my head to side to study the way she kisses her teeth and stares at me in unease but with so much certainty. That sends a jolt of hurt through me as I realise she thinks I'm bullshitting her. And that makes me purse my lips because I don't know what else to do to prove that I do care- more than I should actually.

"Why would I lie to you about that?" I ask softly and she licks her lips, looking down at her feet before meeting my eyes.

"People lie for all sorts of reasons."

"I may be a liar but I'm not lying about this." I respond immediately and her features soften ever so slightly and she lets out a breath before looking away. However, I can't remove my eyes from the intriguing yet frustrating girl in front of me. I don't even  know why I feel the need to protect her- she isn't my responsibility.

"Do you have an extra shirt or something for me?" She asks and I avert my stare to dig through my bag. I pull out a large white shirt and a pair of boxers and toss it to the side of the bed closer to her.

"It's a little big but I think you can make it work." I say and she picks it up with a grateful smile. However, it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Thank you." She mumbles and I nod before searching one of the near cupboards for an extra blanket and when I find it, I pull it out and grab a few pillows off of the bed. I throw it on the floor and arrange it in such a way that I can actually sleep on it comfortably although I doubt that will be possible considering I have a bullet wound in my torso.

"What are you doing?" She asks incredulously and I look at her who is now standing in the bathroom's entrance.

"Getting comfortable on the floor so that you can take the bed?" I ask as if it's obvious and she shakes her head vigorously.

"No. You take the bed. You're the one who is hurt, you need to sleep well. Plus, you paid for this room."

I shake my head. "I'm not going to waver my decision." I confirm.

"Damnit Cameron. You're hurt! Please take the bed."

I stand up and turn to face her. Her eyes plead with me but I don't budge.

"Please, for once, can you not argue with me and just listen?" I ask exasperatedly and she lets out a sigh before holding her hands up in defense. She closes the door to the bathroom and when I'm alone again, I let out a sigh while briefly closing my eyes.

"Niña terca." I mutter to myself before grabbing an aspirin out of my bag. I pop it into my mouth and swallow it dry before I lay down on the pillows I've put on the floor. I stare up at the ceiling and wait for the ache in my side to dull down while the sound of the shower offers me some comfort.

However, I wait for Harley to finish showering and I wonder about what happened at the tracks. I knew that trusting Scorpion was stupid idea but I didn't think he was fucked up enough to call the cops up. His people had guns, drugs and stolen cars in their possession for crying out loud!

Was he that stupid that he would even throw his own gang under the bus? His whole scheme was so illogical because not only does Emery have to deal with the repercussions but so does he and his gang probably got into more shit considering they deal heavier stuff and carry weapons on them at all times.

When Harley walks out of the bathroom, I'm already floating in and out of consciousness. She climbs into bed and I groan.

"The lights Harley." I say and I hear her shuffling stop.

"Oh, um sorry." She apologises before getting up to turn them off.
When she's back in the bed beside me and it's quiet except for our breathing, I close my eyes.

"Goodnight Cameron." I hear her whisper and it makes a smile grace my lips.

"Goodnight Harley."

****

I wake up to the soft sound of sniffling and I sit up before rubbing at my eyes. I can't make anything out in the darkness and I stretch my hands out to feel for Harley and my heart drops when I can't feel her. However, I then notice the light coming from the bathroom and I get up and walk over to it blindly, pressing my ear against to the door once I reach it.

However, my back is rigid and my steps are quiet in case it's someone it shouldn't be. It's quite for a few seconds before sniffling is heard again and I frown to myself. I realise it's Harley and I feel slightly relieved about that before I frown when coughing is heard- and not the normal kind of cough- and the toilet flushing before soft cries are followed after.

She's crying.

And I have no clue why.

What I do know is that I hate the sound of her being in distress.

I purse my lips. "Harley?" I ask softly and her cries come to a halt.
She doesn't answer me though and I take in a deep breath, calling out again. "Are you okay?" I ask through the door.

"I'm fine." She croaks out and I shake my head to myself, already feeling the pain from my injury slowly making its way through my body.

"Open up Harley." I ask softly. It's silent again and I look at the door that divides us. "Please." I add softly and my heart fills with hope that she'll open up. I hear the door unlock and I let out a sigh of relief although that slowly disappears after I see the state she's in.

Her makeup is smudged while her skin is a ghostly pale and the tear stains down her red face are a clear indication that she's being crying for a while now. I look at her state and feel my heart ache.

"What's wrong?" I ask and she looks away, wiping at her eyes with her wrists.

"I-I'm fine." She croaks before looking at me. She forces a smile onto her face and I immediately shake my head.

"No. No you're not." I respond and I find myself stepping closer to her. "Are you upset because of what happened tonight?" I ask and she lets out a weak laugh, more tears trickling out of her eyes. Seeing the water trickle down her face causes a bunch of unsettling feelings to wash over me and I find my throat closing up.

"I wish that was the reason." She laughs, the tears never ending. I watch her silently, my eyes gazing over her.

"Then what is it?" I inquire softly and she snaps her head to me.

"I... I-" she bursts into sobs before she can repeat her sentence and I'm pulling her into me in seconds, the gesture foreign to me. Her body racks up and down in my arms and I can feel my shirt getting damper by the seconds. I rub her arms comfortingly and hope that it can calm her down in her fragile state. She continues to cry and my frown deepens while my chest tightens.

I don't when was the last time I had to comfort someone.

"Shh, Harley. I'm here. You're okay. We're okay." I mumble soothingly and she slowly starts regaining her composure. I want to get answers as to why she's in this state but I need to wait for her to calm down before I ask. "You're going to be okay." I remind her and it takes us another ten minutes of me mumbling comforting words before she finally pulls back with unsteady breathing but dried up tears.

I look down at her, my arms still wrapped around her frame as she looks down at the ground. "What's wrong Harley?"

She takes in a sharp breath, her glossy eyes staring up at me.

"I...I just had a really bad dream." I don't know why it shocks me but doesn't either at the exact same time. I can say from personal experience that nightmares can be terrifying but that only seems to happen when a continuous traumatic experience plays in your head. Other people have normal, ordinary nightmares that don't send them into a frenzy like Harley is in. That leads me to think that obviously Harley has gone through something rough and as much as I want to know, it makes me worry.

What happened to her to make her like this?

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask. When I have the odd nightmare here and there, sometimes all I want is an ear to be there for me. An ear that isn't going to judge me, but is just going to listen.

"I... I just c-can't-" Another tear interrupts her from finishing and I cup her cheeks, staring down at her face while I wipe away her tear.

"You don't need to tell me anything." I say gently and she sniffles, looking down at her feet. "Are you okay now?" I ask and she nods softly, wiping at her eyes and smiling gently at me.

"Thank you."

I smile down at her and she walks out of my embrace towards the bed, gingerly climbing onto it while I watch her do so. "Can I leave the lamp on?" She asks and I nod, walking back to my temporary bed.

"Sure."

I gaze at her figure on the blue sheets and purse my lips. "Do you need anything?"

She chews on her lip in thought before averting gaze. "Can... can you just keep me company please? Help distract me?"

I nod my head and before I know it, I'm climbing onto the bed and taking a seat beside her. It's quiet as we both lay down beside each other with so much to say yet nothing to say at the exact same time. I feel her shake beside me and I turn onto my uninjured side to glance at her. I chew on my cheek in thought before finally giving into the temptation. I gently brush my hands on her hips, tugging at them, and I feel her freeze before she scoots closer to me. I hold her close to my chest, my one arm underneath her head while the other wraps around her waist. My breathing fans against her neck and I try and figure out why I'm even doing this and why it makes me feel oddly comfortable as well.

"What does your tattoo mean?" She utters in the eerily atmosphere and I freeze, remembering the day I got it. It's a tattoo of a rose on my right bicep. I got it after Carla left and it has always being a reminder of what she has taught me.

"Cada flor debe crecer a través de la suciedad." I whipser and she's silent, willing me to go on. "It means that every flower must grow through dirt- even the most beautiful."

Carla had told me I was a rose, growing through dirt and on the verge of blooming. I like to believe I am still yet to bloom.

"Where'd you learn that?" She asks.

"A friend of mine used to say it a lot."

"Your friend sounds wise."

I smile to myself, feeling an odd sense of comfort talking about Carla with Harley. "It's beautiful by the way. I like it." She says and I let out a sigh of content.

"Obrigada." I respond.

It goes quiet afterwards, neither of us saying anything as I hold Harley against me and she melts into my chest and even though I internally scold myself for getting intimate with her, I can't help but feel like all is perfect in the world at the moment because it's like our bodies mould together perfectly.

•••

Don't forget to tap that star below and drop a comment on what you thought of this chapter! :)
MERRY CHRISTMAS!💕
I hope you all have a festive and joyful day (even if you are not celebrating Christmas) and get to experience the true joy of Christ on this day.
I thought that this chapter was the perfect one as a virtual Christmas present because of the obvious chemistry between Harley and Cameron. Which, speaking of, how do you feel about?
What was your favorite thing about this chapter? And what do you think of Cam's 'friend'?
Let me know!
Love you all.

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