The days that followed were strange, more suffocating than anything Cameron had expected. Jasmine had returned to her apartment, trying to act as if nothing had changed, but every moment felt like a calculated move—her every word, every glance, every gesture—everything had to be carefully constructed. Cameron couldn't just act naturally anymore. She was too aware of the implications, the shift in power between her and Jasmine.
Before, she would've just been herself—careless, messy, a little self-destructive—but now? Now she felt like a puppet, the strings being pulled by someone who understood exactly how to bend her. She wasn't even sure when she had started giving up control. It had been so gradual, so insidious. But now, there was no escaping the role Jasmine had carved for her. The blank canvas was no longer a source of freedom; it had become a trap.
Jasmine seemed to notice the tension in her the moment she stepped inside the apartment. The familiar ease that once marked their interactions had turned stiff, like two people who had never known how to read each other. Cameron couldn't relax. She was hyper aware of every single glance Jasmine threw her way, all of them seeming to hold meaning—every moment felt like an unspoken test.
"So, what's been going on with you?" Jasmine asked casually, leaning against the kitchen counter with a smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You've been... weird lately."
Cameron shrugged, unsure how to even respond to that. "I don't know. Just tired, I guess."
She hadn't really slept much since their conversation, her mind buzzing too loudly, thoughts colliding in a frantic scramble. The last thing she wanted was to talk about it—to talk about how empty she felt, how Jasmine's words still echoed in her ears. No, she couldn't go there. She had already fallen into this strange space between being a friend and something else entirely, but she wasn't ready to fall further into that abyss.
"Mm-hmm," Jasmine hummed, clearly unsatisfied with that answer. But before she could press further, her phone buzzed on the counter, the screen lighting up with Andrew's name. Jasmine sighed, picking it up, and answered with a sharp tone.
"Hey, Andrew," she said, voice taut. "No, I told you I'm not talking about this right now."
Cameron tried to disappear into the background, pretending to be engrossed in her phone, but she could hear the tension in Jasmine's voice, rising like a storm.
"Because I'm just... I'm fucking tired of talking about the same shit over and over, Andrew!" Jasmine's voice cracked, the crackle of frustration evident even through the glass of the phone. "You always do this—you're just so fucking frustrating!"
Cameron winced at the sound of her voice rising, the bitterness in it clashing with the warmth Jasmine usually exuded. But it was nothing new. Cameron had seen their arguments before. They were always intense, always loud, and always seemed to leave Jasmine emotionally drained. What was new was how Jasmine had started to turn to her now, not for comfort, but for validation, a steady presence she could collapse into whenever things fell apart with Andrew.
The call ended abruptly, and Jasmine was left staring at the phone in her hand, her breathing ragged. The vulnerability that followed was stark, and Cameron could see it in the way Jasmine's posture softened, the deflation of her shoulders.
Cameron's instinct was to pull away, to retreat into herself. But she couldn't—she felt like she had to do something. Her thoughts twisted in frustration, unable to comprehend why she felt so responsible for this, for her pain.
Jasmine didn't wait for Cameron's input. She moved quickly, walking to the couch and sitting down with a sigh, her face falling into her hands. "I can't deal with him anymore," she whispered, the tremble in her voice unmistakable. "I just can't. I'm so fucking drained, Cam."
Cameron's body froze, her mind spinning. She wanted to offer comfort. She wanted to say something. Anything. But her mouth went dry, her words lost in the tension. She had no idea how to console her anymore. She had been that person once, but now... now it just felt like another obligation. Another thing she had to be for Jasmine.
Jasmine's eyes flicked up to meet hers, and it was like Cameron was trapped in those eyes, drowning in their pull.
"I just need someone to... listen," Jasmine said softly, her gaze holding Cameron's like a lure. "Can you do that for me, Cam? Just... be here for me. Just let me unload, okay? I just need to feel something that's not... that."
It was like a switch flipped inside Cameron, her body moving before she could even think about it. She slid onto the couch beside Jasmine, unsure how to proceed, unsure if she was doing it for the right reasons. Jasmine's words had reached her, found a place in her heart where the void lived. The way Jasmine needed her, the way she was now relying on her—it almost felt good, but it also made her skin crawl.
"I don't know what to say," Cameron muttered, the words feeling useless as they left her mouth.
Jasmine let out a quiet laugh, a soft, bitter sound. "You don't need to say anything, Cam. Just hold me. Just be here, like you always used to be."
And just like that, Cameron was slipping back into the role she had once comfortably inhabited. Jasmine's voice was soft now, coaxing her with tenderness, with need. There was no longer any distance between them, no emotional barrier. Cameron wrapped her arms around her, unsure if she was doing it for Jasmine or for herself. All she knew was that the proximity, the softness of Jasmine's touch, filled the cracks she had buried deep inside herself.
But as she held Jasmine, Cameron couldn't shake the feeling that she was becoming someone she didn't recognize. Jasmine wasn't asking for Cameron's love anymore. She was asking for her dependence. She had turned Cameron into someone who could be molded into whatever she needed, and it was working. The weight of the emotions, of the expectations, settled heavily on her chest.
She could feel Jasmine's tears soaking into her shoulder, her warmth, her breath shallow and uneven. But somewhere inside, Cameron knew. This was all part of the manipulation. Jasmine had learned how to bend her to her will, how to make Cameron feel needed when, in reality, all it was doing was feeding Jasmine's own insatiable hunger.
"I can't be what you want, Jas," Cameron whispered, though she wasn't sure who she was even saying it to.
Jasmine pulled back slightly, looking up at her with eyes that seemed so vulnerable, so tender, but there was a hint of something darker in them. A knowing look. She hadn't heard the words, but she had felt them. And she knew how to turn them around.
"You don't have to be anything, Cam," Jasmine said, her voice softer now, her hand caressing Cameron's arm. "You just have to be here."