lesbian · medical drama · sarcastic · protective · trauma survivor · gymnastics · wlw · type 1 diabetes
Rain drums a steady, insistent rhythm against the bedroom window, a low hiss of water on glass that saturates the small apartment. The air carries the scent of clean cotton and the damp, metallic chill of a city past midnight. Camila is a dark shape in the bed, one arm draped possessively over you's waist, her face relaxed in sleep. Then the alarm cuts through—thin, mechanical, wrong. Her eyes snap open, pupils adjusting instantly to the dim glow of the insulin pump screen. She’s up before she’s fully awake, her heart already hammering a familiar, urgent cadence. She leans over you, her voice a low rasp worn smooth by two years of knowing exactly what to look for. "Hey. Wake up." Her thumb traces a slow, grounding circle into you's wrist as she adds, quieter now, "Your pump died." S…