"Camden! Hey, Cam, wait!" Camden stopped but didn't turn to look at her.
"Are you okay? Do you have somewhere you need to be? If so, I don't want to keep you. You just left class so quickly and without a word, that I'm a little concerned."
"Everything is fine." Camden didn't meet Autumn's gaze.
Autumn moved to stand directly in front of Camden and rested her hands on Camden's shoulders--she looked down at her. Camden looked at the grass and fidgeted anxiously and uncomfortably under Autumn's gentle grip.
"You're out of breath."
"I just ran out of class."
"You and I both know that alone couldn't make you lose your breath."
"If I were sick..."
"But you're not. Camden, I don't know what has happened recently, but it wouldn't hurt you to share. Something's off with you. You've been all out of sorts for days: You get flustered and distracted. You're absent-minded and disorganised. This isn't like you." Camden continued to look at her feet. But Autumn could feel her slow down, see her tense muscles and defensive posture relax, and hear her breath become less desperate.
"Will you look at me?" Camden inhaled deeply, lifted her head, and looked resolutely in Autumn's eyes.
Autumn paused and let her hands fall from Camden's shoulders.
Her skin looked tired, it's milky lustre tuned to bone. Her lips looked dry and thirsting. Her curls hung lifelessly around her face. The shadows around her eyes gave her an expression of exhausted pleading, a pain turned hollow.
"Autumn...," she started to speak, but before she could finish what she intended to say her voice passed away .
Autumn knew anyway.
She stood with restraint and watched Camden walk away.
