Jealousy - F Cameron

Cameron doesn’t like to admit to jealousy. It’s not something she’s felt often before, and she hates the way it bubbles up in her throat to leave a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

Especially with you. Always with you.

Because, back then, she didn’t have enough backbone and was too scared to ever open her mouth. Because she couldn’t pull her head out of her ass at sixteen and realize fear isn’t an excuse. She screwed up.

She knows that now, though. She screwed up the best thing she’d never have before she even realized it, and now the ghost of something that never existed haunts her.

Still, it hurts despite the fact it shouldn’t. To see a girl next to you in the lecture hall, leaning down to talk to you, her arm nearly brushing yours…

Cameron wants that touch. That proximity. Anything but cold distance and harsh radio silence.

She’s staring, and she realizes that when she jumps at your sudden movement. You jerk back, jaw tense, looking ready to lash out at any second.

No one else sees the sudden change. Or, if they do, they say nothing.

The girl reaches out to grip your wrist, nails sinking into your skin, and Cameron can tell a scene is about to be made. That’s…that’s not good. She can’t claim to know you all that well anymore, but you hate attention. You hate the stares that go with it even more.

She slides from her seat as people slowly file in before class, moving with haste to where you sit.

“Because I asked nicely first and you want to be an ass about it,” The girl is saying in a low tone, her eyes narrowing as her grip on you tightens, “Do you really think anyone is believing you? My dad-“

Cameron moves before even thinking. Lightning quick, she reaches up and grabs the girl by the back of the neck. It’s something that could be misconstrued as a friendly gesture unless someone looked a little too close.

“You should go sit down,” She whispers quietly, cutting the other girl a sharp glance, “Or, better yet, drop this class.”

You’re staring at Cam, wide eyed and mouth only a few inches away from gaping. The idiot in her grasp opens her mouth again, and Cam sends a spark of electricity down her spine.

Not enough to paralyze, but Cameron feels the instant her knees go weak and she wobbles in the Chosen One’s grasp.

“Understand?” Cameron asks, her voice edging on angry.

The girl nods, stumbling from Cameron’s grasp before she’s limping down the stairs and right out the lecture hall’s doors.

The immediate aftermath is silent. Only the background chatter and shuffling breaks it, and the quiet is killing her. Your silence is deadly.

Turning to you is the hardest thing Cameron has done in months. Your expression is closed off again; cool and distant, it’s a careful wall constructed to protect you.

“You didn’t have to do that,” You say, bordering on emotionless, but Cam still hears the waver beneath the words.

Her mouth twists, her gaze dropping to the side, “I did. I’m a slow learner, but I get things eventually.”

There’s a twitch in your brows, a wobble to your lips, a visible Achilles heel. You purse your lips in confusion, silently demanding an answer with eyes that haunt.

“I’ve been quiet too long,” Her voice drops further, half ashamed and half embarrassed, “I’m not going to do that anymore.”

Your venom is always at the ready, however, “I didn’t ask for that.”

“You didn’t,” Cameron agrees, “And if you tell me here and now that you never want to see my face again, I’ll do my best to give you that. I won’t let them drag you through the mud anymore, though, even if I never speak to you again.”

She nearly holds her breath. You’re silent, and she thinks this might be what a spiritual experience is like. At the very least, she feels resurrected.

She offers a small smile, and she could swear your lips twitch in return. The door opens, then, and the professor walks through to sit his things at the podium up front. Cameron is almost mad at the man for a split second, but she moves to return to her seat regardless.

She glances back at you, though. You’re looking at her, conflicted, and she’s never before found so much hope in turmoil.