What can I say? I've been lazy.
Calicia is a crack pairing that I adore, and I found this story in my computer, (it was pre-written ages ago) so why not share it with you guys?
When the word beautiful is thrown around, he immediately knows who people are referring to.
The girl with the pouty red natural lips, enormous doll-like brown eyes and banging dancer body.
He couldn't help, but stare.
God, she was beautiful.
She wasn't pretty like her best friend Massie Block. She wasn't cute like that Claire Lyons. She wasn't attractive like the sporty Kristen Gregory. She wasn't hot like the fiery Dylan Marvil.
The raven-haired girl was none of those, she was just simply beautiful.
He, of course, was in love with her, as the majority of the guys in their school. But, he was way out of her league.
While she was beautiful, he was more of the freaky and awkward type, tall and lanky, with messy jet-black hair and eyes that were mismatched, one emerald and the other cerulean.
Besides, she told him herself, they were just merely best friends.
"I'm fine with that," He told her with a force grin on his face.
She didn't seem to buy it, her voice hesitating. "Well, okay." The girl reaches for his hands, squeezing it. "I still want you to know, that I love you."
"But," Cameron Fisher pauses, his fake grin never leaving his face, "as a friend. You love me as a friend."
Alicia gives him a bright smile, just for him, "No," She squeezes harder, "I love you as my best friend."
Before he could react, she flounces away, away from him and into the arms of her boyfriend, Joshua Hotz.
The boy made a face, watching her leave. He would never stop loving her, he said to himself. Never stop, not even after that day.
One night, she was out clubbing with her friends.
On her way home, her car thrashed and totalled as a drunken idiot crashed right into her.
He got the call from her parents, racing to the hospital as fast as he could.
Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead.
The boy sighs in relief, slamming himself against the snow-white wall, though, it's short-lived.
The doctor comes in, telling them she's in critical condition.
Every day he visits her.
She only allows him, her parents and a few selected friends.
The Latina doesn't want people to see her the way she is. Her beautiful face and body, covered in scars, injuries, bruises, pus and dried blood. She is disfigured for life.
"I'm ugly," She repeats over and over on a specific afternoon. Her actions come true with her sayings, as he watches her shriek each time a mirror is passed to her, throwing it across the room, shattering it.
"You're wrong," His mismatched eyes are filled with warmth as he says it, because he means it. "You're beautiful."
The girl he loves is still beautiful; in fact she's fucking beautiful. Nothing can or will ever change his mind.
Alicia gives him a pathetic smile, just for him, her voice almost inaudible, "I'm not," and then bursts into tears.
"I think we should break up," the voice coming from the room, is Joshua Hotz.
Cameron ducks into the hallway, not wanting to interrupt their conversation, yet, he clenches his fists, when hearing every. single. word.
"Look at you!" her boyfriend yelling, Cam's pretty sure by now, everyone down the hall is listening, "there's no way in hell, you'll look like the way you used to. Fuck, I'll have a better chance winning homecoming king with Layne Abeley."
"Fuck you," She spats, clearly she's on the verge of tears, her delicate, sweet voice is shaking. "Get out!"
"Fine by me, bitch," Her boyfriend growls, "I don't think I could stay here any longer, my lunch is about to come out."
A loud screech is heard.
Cam peeks around the corner, seeing Josh, the bastard, is down the hallway, laughing.
Walking into her room, he mumbles, "Alicia,"
"Go away," her voice is muffled; she's covering her face with the soft, blanket that was given to her. "I want to be alone."
He ignores her, perching himself onto the rusty, metal seat. "No. I'm staying."
"No." He argues.
Finally, she thrusts the blanket off her face, he can see tears flowing, cascading down. She's seems to already given up, "Nobody," she hiccups, "Nobody will look at me the same." The girl bursts into more loud sobs.
This time, it's his turn to squeeze her hand and give a smile, just for her, "You're wrong," he squeezes harder, "I'm still looking,"
Suddenly, the tears stop.