Either “this is the most fun I’ve ever had” or “I’ve been up for a day and a half, don’t ask me questions.” For Camden and whoever you feel like putting her with!
you already know we’re back in camgeria town :) <3
“I’ve been up for a day and a half, don’t ask me questions.”
Camden already knows what will happen when she hears the click of the key in the lock—it’s easy to know when she's been ignoring her texts and she’s only given out one spare key.
“Lady Lady,” a too-cheery voice sing-songs, “Where are you hiding?”
“The spare room,” she croaks, then clears her throat. When was the last time she talked?
Angeria comes sliding into the room, rifling through some bag. Camden rushes through the end of a sentence on the email she’s been writing and re-writing for the past fifteen minutes (at least). “There you are! Do you want to…” Angeria looks up and stops. Cam just needs a little more time and she’ll be done with the email and she would hate to lose her train of thought, so she types faster and waits for Angie to break the silence.
And break the silence she does.
“You look… rough. When was the last time you slept?"
She can’t help but snort. “I’ve been up for a day and a half, don’t ask me questions.”
She doesn’t even need to look up from the screen of her laptop to see Angie’s horrified face in the reflection behind her. “You’ve—a day and a half—Camden—” she splutters, and Camden doesn’t know whether it’s the way Angeria’s accent slips over her name or her indignation that’s making her feel so warm for the first time since she got this stupid deadline but she’s grinning before she can stop herself. “I know your work is not worth all that.”
“You hate my job, I know, I know,” Camden grumbles warmly, feeling oddly light despite the weight that had hung in the room only seconds ago.
“Someone’s gotta,” Angie replies, a statement of fact. Angie really does treat it that way, though—when Camden complains to her after a hard day she can see her frustration at the horrible hoops her boss makes her jump through behind the comforting words and kind gestures. She can feel Angie’s disdain for the long hours and the stress she comes home with. “I can’t believe they’d do that to you.”
“Technically I did it to myself, taking this job.” It’s a familiar argument, and she can just tell that Angie’s got her You’re so wrong but I’m not fighting with you face on by the silence that falls again. It almost makes her laugh—it would’ve if she wasn’t just so tired.
“You’re gonna find a nice stopping point and then we’re taking a break.” It’s an order not even buried in the tone of a suggestion—she must really not look too good.
“If there was a good stopping point then I would’ve gone to bed last night,” she complains, but she knows it’s useless. Angie’s made up her mind and she doesn’t have the energy to fight against the loving concern that Angie’s just too good at.
“Then find a bad one and get out of this room. I’m starting dinner—pasta, because you probably don’t have any real ingredients—” she’s right, but Cam keeps it to herself, “and you’re going to get up out of this room and sit on the couch and rest.”
Angie’s out of the room before Camden can even try to hide her lovesick, stupid smile.
