Work Text:
It is an especially humid day in late August.
The neighborhood in Toronto is crowded, people of all ages are packed on the streets like canned fish. There is a buzz of energy that spreads across the city in the festival season and draws tourists in from all over the globe. This time of the year it’s impossible not to bump into groups of foreigners at the many attraction the city offers. Just yesterday they were loudly chattering in the library, inconsiderate of the readers who were trying to appreciate literature in peaceful silence. Carmilla would’ve thrown her book at them, if it hadn’t been for the perfect Austrian German they’d spoken.
Nostalgia and the fear of being thrown out by the security guards kept her in check.
She couldn’t risk being banished from her safety haven of books, only to go home and be alone.
She is with Laura now. The walls of the store shields them from the searing light of the sunset, but the warmth still seeps in through the windows. The crowd outside on the street is like a bug in Carmilla’s ear, constantly droning.
It is hot inside. She can only feel the sensation of it, but Laura’s forehead is covered with a thin layer of perspiration. Her scent is stronger, muskier. Carmilla keeps her distance, but it isn’t enough to block out the smell that usually stirs desire in the pit of her stomach.
The place is near empty. They aren’t bothered as they are looking around.
“What do you think?” Laura stops at a bed with dark wooden frames and simple white linen. She drops her bag on top of it and touches the robust frame. It an antique piece with a modern touch.
“It’s fine.”
“The color is lovely,” Laura says. “It would match our wardrobe.”
Carmilla moves closer, until her knees hit the mattress. She looks at Laura and the bed between them.
“It’s pretty big.”
“I like that it’s big,” Laura says. “The space would be enough for three people.”
“Then I guess we need it.”
Laura looks up at Carmilla. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind,” Carmilla sighs and flops down on the bed, showing her back to Laura. Her eyes drill holes into Carmilla’s scalp. Carmilla sits in silence and keeps her thoughts to herself. The bed is comfortable. It dips as Laura sits down on the other side. She shifts after removing her ballet flats and the comforter rustles as she lays down on top of it.
A girl, clad in green uniform walks up to Carmilla. She is about the same age as Laura, not nearly as pretty but she has a decent shape under the hideous clothes. Carmilla’s eyes linger on her chest.
“Can I help you with something?” The girl asks.
“We’re just looking around, trying things,” Carmilla drawls. “But maybe you can help…Susan, isn’t it?”
The girl frowns. Her eyes drop to her name tag briefly. “Yeah,” a small smile breaks out on her lips. “I will try my best.”
“So you see, Susan, my girlfriend here thinks that this bed is big enough for three people.”
Laura leans up on the bed, supporting herself on her elbows. “What’s with your sudden obsession of this, Carm? It was just a comment. I was just musing…”
Carmilla raises her hand. “No, no, Laura, I think it was a neat comment,” she turns back to Susan. “But I’d like to know what Susan here thinks. She is an expert of beds after all.”
The girl blushes under her stare. “I’ve just been here for two weeks,” she says shyly.
Carmilla lets the comment slide. “Why don’t we check the theory at work?” She quirks her eyebrows. She kicks off her sneakers and throws herself on the bed, shifting to the middle.
Laura grabs her wrist madly, hissing “What the hell are you doing?”
Carmilla glances at her. “Nothing,” she shrugs, dropping her head on the pillow. She pats the unoccupied space on her right side, “Come on, Susan, what are you waiting for?”
Susan shuffles from one leg to the other, hesitating.
“I really don’t think this is necessary,” Laura warns between gritted teeth, her grip rock solid on Carmilla’s wrist. “This is clearly big enough for three. Not that we would ever need to accommodate a third person in our bed.”
“I can think of a situation…”
“Carmilla,” Laura’s eyes bulge, “that’s really inappropriate.”
Carmilla chuckles dryly. “Fine,” she tears her hand away from Laura’s. “I was just messing with you.”
“I do not appreciate it right now.”
Susan clears her throat gently, “I better go now. We’re closing in twenty minutes,” she says apologetically, before grabbing a flier from a nearby desk. She scribbles on it with her pen, before handing it to Carmilla. “Let me know, if you’ve decided on this one.”
Carmilla sits up to take the flier and notices the bed on it, but it is the phone number written beside the picture that makes her eyes jerk up in surprise. Susan gives her a mysterious smile before leaving. Carmilla smirks as she tucks the paper into the back pocket of her jeans.
She drops herself back on the bed and spreads her limbs. “I think I might like this bed.”
Laura doesn’t answer and the silence treatment irks Carmilla.
“Come on, Laura, I was just messing with you.”
“Oh, cut it out.”
Carmilla rolls to her side. Laura stiffens beside her, eyes glued stubbornly to the ceiling. Her face is contorted by the effort of keeping her gaze away and her words in. Carmilla wants to be berated for being an asshole, but she doesn’t even get that sick satisfaction.
Silence is the worst punishment. Laura knows her too well.
Carmilla looks at her hand and wonders if Laura would flinch away, if she touched her right now. She probably would and it makes her heart sink. Guilt gnaws at her.
“That’s all we do now, isn’t it, talking about things that don’t matter?”
“This is a lovely bed,” Laura cuts through her, desperate to cling onto the ordinary topic. It’s easy, talking about the bed. “It looks old, but new. The frames would look great with dark linens.”
“You don’t even like dark linens.”
“I know,” Laura says quietly. “But you do.”
“I don’t care about myself.”
“Well, I care about you,” Laura looks at her earnestly. “More than anything.”
Carmilla swallows the bile of bitterness that bubbles up in her throat. She wishes to believe Laura, but it’s getting harder lately.
“Do you want to buy this bed?”
“I do, but only if you like it, too.”
“It’s just a bed, I don’t really care as long as you like it.”
Laura sighs, shifting to her side to face Carmilla. “I want you to like it. I want you to like our home, Carm.”
Carmilla averts her eyes, “Our home, huh?” She stares out of the window and feels the familiar stinging behind her eyes. She bites down on her lip before the tears can spill over. The crowd is cheering outside, wide smiles spread on their red faces burnt by the sun.
Carmilla is stuck inside.
There is no air. She is suffocated, even though she doesn’t need to breathe to exist.
“It’s just a bed, Laura,” she says quietly. “It won’t make me like our home, nor will it make me dislike it.”
“It’s not just a bed,” Laura argues. “Having a proper bed is essential for getting a good night’s sleep, Carm. It has to support your back and make you feel comfy. We spend like thirty percent of our days in bed, so you have to like it.”
“I can just curl up on the floor and still get my beauty sleep.”
Laura searches for her eyes. “It’s not just about the physical activity of sleeping…you know that,” she reaches out to stroke the back of Carmilla’s hand with her fingertips.
Carmilla’s hand jerks under Laura’s touch. It burns her skin. She can’t move it, as if there are invisible chains holding it in place. The feeling is getting increasingly familiar.
“What else then?”
“Being together,” Laura explains gently. “Talking, and reading, and cuddling and having… ” she trails off. There’s no need to finish the sentence. What is left unsaid hangs in the air like a guillotine.
Carmilla’s heart gives a leap and begins thumping in her ribcage, strong and hard. A lump formulates in her throat and her stomach churns as she tries to bottle up the words. But she’s held them for too long already.
“We haven’t for two weeks.”
The words fire from her lips like bullets from a gun, right into Laura’s chest. Small fingers freeze on Carmilla’s hand and Laura sucks in a ragged breath. Then she jerks away from Carmilla and shoots up in bed swiftly, “What are you saying?”
“I’m not saying anything,” Carmilla sits up to face her, “just stating a simple fact.”
“So it’s been two weeks…time really flies, huh?” Laura lets out a chuckle that dies in her throat, smoothing her hair nervously. “I haven’t even noticed - but I mean, two weeks is not that long. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“We’ve never gone so long before, so excuse me, but I think it does mean something,” Carmilla crawls to the edge of the bed, grabbing her sneakers to put them on.
“What are you doing?”
“The store is closing.”
Laura frowns, “So we will just pretend that this conversation has never happened?”
“Well, pretending seems to be the only thing we both are doing well in this relationship now,” Carmilla spits, standing up. “So, yeah.”
She leaves Laura and walks out of the store. She lights up a cigarette and inhales deeply. The crowd on the street split up already, leaving empty cups and scattered glasses behind. The noise is coming from a parallel street now.
Her cigarette almost burns down when Laura appears beside her. No trash can seen nearby, Carmilla drops the butt on the ground and steps on it half-heartedly. She starts off towards the car, before Laura can give her a disapproving look.
She feels it on her back anyway.
///
There is no discussion about who would drive. Carmilla decides it by hopping in the passenger’s seat when Laura opens the car.
Driving offers distraction, which Laura gladly takes.
Carmilla is turned away, resting her forehead against the window. The sky turns gray and clouded. The air is thick in the car and she feels small under the giant dark cloud hanging above their heads.
Laura focuses on the road, occasionally taking her eyes off to catch a glimpse of Carmilla’s face. It is hidden behind the curtain of dark curls and she forces her hand not to brush Carmilla’s hair away.
She reaches out to turn the radio on. Carmilla does the same and their fingers touch, sending a jolt through Laura’s body. Their eyes meet briefly.
“Sorry,” Laura gulps, her hand retreating to the steering wheel. “You can pick.”
Carmilla just nods. After a few disgruntled groans, she finds a station where The Doors is playing. She starts tapping her fingertips against her seat and the sound is driving Laura crazy. She wants to shake her.
She can’t grasp how Carmilla can launch such a bomb, then walk away as if the splinters didn’t cut into Laura’s flesh.
The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she doesn’t speak. She is bleeding silently as she drives them to their apartment.
///
They couldn’t stay at her dad anymore, when Laura got the internship and the newspaper’s office happened to be in the center of Toronto. Carmilla was more than happy to dive into apartment-hunting.
So here they are now, owning a tiny place on the fifth floor of an apartment building set in the hippest part of the city. They could have a much bigger place, but Laura refused to take Carmilla’s offer of paying for it. She was adamant to split everything in half, claiming that relying on Carmilla financially would go against her feminist ideal of a small town girl making it on her own in the big city.
After three years together, Carmilla has learned when to stop arguing with what Laura so stubbornly took in her head. She didn’t like to waste her time on pointless attempts, so she let it go and moved all their stuff to the new apartment on a warm evening in the middle of June.
It was barely more than two months ago that they made love on the floor that night surrounded by boxes, but for Carmilla it feels longer than that. These two months stands as a minuscule fraction in the span of her lifetime, but days have been dragging so slowly lately that she’s never felt the burden of forever more.
The sprinkling rain signals that summer is almost over now. The wind catches Laura’s golden hair as they climb out of the car and run up the stairs to the front door.
A storm is coming.
///
Carmilla kicks off her shoes at the door and disappears. Laura rolls her eyes, putting the muddy sneakers away in the closet. She catches her own reflection in the built-in mirror. There are dark circles under her eyes and her cheeks are more defined. She forgets herself in examination, noticing all the little details that changed on her body.
Her conscious awakens with a jolt when Carmilla groans loudly in the kitchen.
“Goddamn it,” she grumbles under her breath when she appears in the hall again.
“What’s wrong?”
“I forgot I’m out of blood.”
“Crap.”
“Yeah,” Carmilla sighs heavily. “So I’m going out. I’m hungry.”
Laura’s throat tightens. She watches Carmilla with growing apprehension as she puts her shoes back on and grabs her parka. “I can come with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I’m coming with you,” Laura says firmly and Carmilla stops in her tracks.
Her jaw clenches and she breathes out hard through her nostrils. “No, you’re not,” she says. This is one of those times she will argue with Laura Hollis and she will damn well win.
Laura steps into her ballet flats stubbornly, pretending not to hear the words and brings out a pink raincoat.
“Laura,” Carmilla says impatiently, grabbing the sleeve of Laura’s coat to stop her. “There’s a storm outside. It’s dangerous.”
“Exactly,” Laura tears the fabric away, her eyes narrowed warningly. She is not gonna surrender.
“Dangerous for you,” Carmilla drawls pointedly. “I can take care of myself. I’m a vampire, remember? Not a fragile doll, who’d need your saving from some summer shower.”
“But there are thunderstorms, Carm,” Laura says exasperatedly. “I just don’t like you being alone out there.”
Carmilla’s eyes flash dangerously. She walks up to Laura and leans into her face. Her lips turn into a painful smile, but her eyes are cold, cutting into Laura. “Oh it’s funny, considering you have no problem with me being alone in here,” she says before the door closes with a bang.
Carmilla escapes. Laura’s cheeks burn from her words as she stares after her. Her heart is pounding rabidly in her chest.
In the creases of the wooden door, she finds pieces of a puzzle she’s failed to put together so far. The signs she hasn’t noticed, the cues she hasn’t picked upon, they seem so obvious now.
Carmilla’s quiet resignation when Laura announced she’d spend another late night at work. Her disappointment when Laura said she was too tired to do anything after she finally got home. Her slight annoyance when it came to hearing about Laura’s latest assignment. Her new-found preference of the couch over their bed for reading her books.
Realization hits her so hard, she has to ground herself. “What have I done?” She whispers, resting her forehead against the door as guilt creeps up in her chest. A soft whimper escapes between her lips and tears spring to her eyes. “So, so stupid…”
She cries softly, silently begging for Carmilla to come back.
She doesn’t.
///
Laura finds her on the couch in the morning.
She breaths out in relief, but the feeling is quickly taken over. Carmilla’s lack of response all through the night makes the blood rush to her head and anger spreads all over her body. Her head hangs in disappointment, when smelling alcohol and smoke on Carmilla.
She stares at the unmoving girl.
She knows that under the black coat bestrew on her lean body and the messy dark hair covering most of her face, Carmilla is alive. At least as much as a vampire can be. After some embarrassing panics at the times she woke up in the middle of the night and thought Carmilla was dead beside her, Laura’s had to learn to notice the small signs. The way Carmilla’s eyes flicker with dreams under the closed lids. The way her forehead creases when something in dreamland is troubling her.
After acknowledging that her girlfriend is not dead, only hangover perhaps, Laura strides into the kitchen. She resists the urge to turn on the radio and listen to bubbly pop hits, and settles for making breakfast in silence.
She finds fresh packs of blood in the fridge. At least Carmilla didn’t just use her night out to get drunk. Somehow it doesn’t really make Laura feel better.
///
Carmilla is still asleep when Laura takes a break from work to make a tea in the afternoon.
She is not sure anymore if Carmilla is really sleeping or if she’s only pretending to be. Laura can’t stand it anymore and walks over to the couch to take a closer look at her. Carmilla has shifted into a different position, resting on her side, face towards the cushion and her coat has slipped off.
Laura trails her eyes down on her backside and furrows her brows. There’s something peeking out of Carmilla’s back pocket that piques her interest. It looks like a creased piece of paper and definitely not cash.
She licks her lips nervously, before reaching out to get hold of the item yet to be identified. She is usually not one to encourage such actions, but spying on her girlfriend doesn’t feel like betrayal now.
The fact that Carmilla left her twice yesterday gives her authorization to break her own rules now.
She pulls the paper out of Carmilla’s pocket carefully. She recognizes the mattress store’s name on it and wonders why Carmilla would keep the flier. She hates fliers with all her might. Laura folds out the paper and notices the picture of the bed they’ve last tried.
But there’s a note beside that takes a few seconds for Laura’s brain to grasp.
It’s a phone number and the name Susan scribbled on the paper in poor handwriting. Laura sucks in a quick breath, panic rising in her throat. Her eyes flicker from the paper in her hand to Carmilla and back, her heart beating erratically.
Carmilla wakes up with a groan, as if sensing Laura’s presence.
Laura’s blood rush to her ears and it feels like as if alarms are ringing inside her head. Everything else is a blur, but the assumption that makes her skin crawl and stomach twist. She feels queasy.
“Fucking light,” Carmilla growls, splaying a hand across her head to cover her eyes.
Laura moves on purest instinct and tears Carmilla’s hand away, unveiling a grumpy, screwed up face.
“What the hell, Laura?” Carmilla’s voice is hoarse and thick with sleep. She squints at Laura, annoyance lacing into her voice as she says, “I want to sleep more.”
Laura pushes the paper into her face madly. Her hand is shaking as she holds it.
“What is this?”
Carmilla grabs it, only to drop it without taking a look, “I have no idea.”
“Well, I have an idea,” Laura’s voice rises threateningly. “And you’re gonna wake up and hear about it.”
“Oh, spare me your secret agent theories now, Laura Carter,” Carmilla groans.
“This is not a joke, Carmilla,” Laura crosses her arms in front of herself. She needs strength to hold herself together. “You didn’t pick up your phone or answer any of my messages. You smell like Mr. Joe after a double shift in his pub and now this. You owe me an explanation.”
“I owe you?” Carmilla launches at Laura, rising on her feet. Her face is screwed up, eyes black and dangerous as the night. She is scary.
Laura swallows hard. “Where were you, Carm?”
“Out,” Carmilla says with a bite. “And now if you’ll excuse me, I need to take a pill, because my head is about to explode.”
She passes Laura, who needs a few seconds to react and follow her into the kitchen. Her voice is frantic as she asks, “Did you call her?”
Carmilla halts at the question. “Who in the goddamn world are you talking about?”
“This - this girl,” Laura is unable to say the name. It would become too real. “She was flirting with you in the store and then gave you her number. I can’t believe her nerve…”
Carmilla spins around. “What are you suggesting, Laura?” Her voice is strange, deep and hollow.
She looks at Laura expectantly, as if she knows what is coming even before Laura does.
“Did you cheat on me?”
Laura clasps her hand to her mouth, eyes widening in shock as the question erupts from her before the thought even formulated. She stares at Carmilla is horror.
“How dare you?” Carmilla asks quietly, brokenly.
“I didn’t - I just,” Laura shakes her head, the words pouring out of her in fractions. She’s never been more confused, more desperate for answers. “Just answer me, please.”
Carmilla’s face turns into a grimace. “Is that what you think of me?” It hurts more than anything, to be seen as a cheater. Worse than to be seen as a monster. It hurts like nothing else has ever before.
It must be how staking in the heart feels like. Cutting into flesh, bone deep and ripping her apart.
“So you’re not denying it?” Laura voice trembles. She is close to fainting.
“The hell I am,” Carmilla growls, stepping up to Laura until their faces are inches apart. “I didn’t. I would never.”
Laura stares into her eyes, trying to find the light in the darkness. She’d drowning in the blackness, losing herself. “I’d deserve it,” she whispers. Her voice sounds distant to her ears.
Carmilla looks at her as if she couldn’t recognize Laura. “What are you talking about?”
“I haven’t been good for you.”
Laura shakes her head, trying to contain the self-blame that ripples in her chest and squeezes her lungs.
“Laura.”
“I’d deserve it,” Laura says, tears burning in her eyes. Carmilla stares at her like she’s insane. “I haven’t been a good girlfriend to you, Carm. I’ve been a terrible girlfriend, really. And I know that it doesn’t matter now, but I really do love you, you know?”
Carmilla pulls her in by the neck. “It’s the only thing that matters,” she says, resting her forehead against Laura’s. She strokes the tiny soft hairs on the back of Laura’s neck.
Laura feels undeserving of her tenderness.
She whimpers and clutches Carmilla’s hand, fingers holding onto her tightly. “I’m so sorry.”
She looks up at Carmilla through wet lashes and feels the tension evaporate. She feels lighter from relief. Carmilla wipes off her teardrops with her thumb.
“I’m sorry too.”
“I didn’t really think that you would - ” Laura trails off, biting down on her lip nervously. “You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” Carmilla says.
Laura sucks in a shaky breath. She’s never felt more vulnerable. She leans into Carmilla’s touch, whispering, “I love you”.
“I love you too,” Carmilla says with a painful, adoring smile. It doesn’t feel like a choice to love Laura. It feels inevitable. “And I want to kiss you now.”
“Please do.”
Carmilla’s lips are gentle at first, as her hand settles on the small of Laura’s back and plants a kiss on her mouth. Her fingers tangle into Laura’s hair and she deepens the kiss, sucking on Laura’s bottom lip and licking it softly.
She tastes like bourbon and Laura moans into her mouth when Carmilla nips her lip. She kisses Laura harder, deeper until Laura gets light-headed. She is clutching Carmilla’s shoulders and lets her devour her mouth, knees buckling when Carmilla’s tongue licks into her.
Her kisses come heavy with meaning. It sweeps into Laura and settles deep inside her stomach, in her very core.
“Don’t stop,” she pants into Carmilla’s mouth when she pulls away.
Carmilla chuckles. “You needed a breather, cupcake,” she kisses Laura’s chin and nips at her jaw. “I don’t want you to pass out just yet…”
Laura gulps against her dry throat. Carmilla’s eyes are dark, but warm like a cup of black coffee. “I missed you, Carm.”
Carmilla smiles. “I’m here.”
“Then why aren’t you kissing me?”
“Stubborn human,” Carmilla mumbles against Laura’s bruised lips, before diving in for another kiss. It’s long and smooth, until Laura’s hands wander to Carmilla’s ass and their hips meet, a breathy moan erupting from both.
Laura’s ass hits the edge of the kitchen counter and it is sort of uncomfortable, but Carmilla is kissing along her jaw and sucks in her earlobe and her legs are starting to tremble with need. She shudders from the sensation.
God, it’s been two weeks. She has no idea how she’s gone so long without being touched by Carmilla. It feels like her body is waking up from a slumber.
She feels alive.
Carmilla sucks on her pulse point, grazing her teeth on the wet skin teasingly and Laura’s abdomen tightens like stone, her legs clenched around Carmilla’s thigh that is pressing into her core. “Couch, now,” she grunts, pulling on Carmilla’s hair and squirming.
“So eloquent, cupcake.”
“Shut up,” Laura squeals as Carmilla picks her up effortlessly, bringing her over to the couch while her mouth never stops planting wet kisses along Laura’s collarbone.
Laura’s back meets the cushion as she’s laid down and the gentleness of Carmilla’s action pulls on her heartstrings. Carmilla follows her, settling between her legs and their eyes catch, the world around them slowing down as hazel meets black and melt into each other, both filled with lust and love and fire.
“I want you,” Carmilla rasps, lowering herself on Laura, “only you.”
The slow burn turns into wild fire in Laura’s stomach from the way Carmilla presses into her and she juts her hips up, nails digging into Carmilla’s biceps. Carmilla starts rocking into her, Laura’s ankles closing around her back and their gazes waver, but don’t leave each other. Carmilla’s mouth hangs agape, taking sharp breaths as she circles her hips, pushing harder and harder into Laura, who follows the motions in clumsy desperation.
There’s too much want and need in their actions.
Their sync is uncontrolled.
They’ve practiced for years, but it’s not a perfect dance, not now. Not when the rawness of their emotions is so overwhelming that Laura feels like falling apart.
“Prove it,” she utters breathlessly, but the command comes through strong enough.
Carmilla’s eager hands rip her button-down apart and her hips thrust up into her frantically, when Carmilla starts showering her breasts with kisses, flicking her tongue over hard nipples and biting into the swell of flesh. Laura yelps when she feels Carmilla’s teeth graze her nipples and the excitement makes her thighs convulse. “Oh, Carm,” she moans, the back of her head hitting the arm-rest.
Her chest is wet and bruised from Carmilla’s mouth and she’s heaving as Carmilla removes her shorts. Her own clothes follow, flying around the room and Carmilla’s naked breasts press into hers when she leans in for a deep kiss that builds up slowly, matching the rhythm of their hips rocking.
Laura feels her wetness leaving a patch on Carmilla’s lower abdomen and she almost comes right on her stomach when Carmilla pulls away to smell into the air and lets out a growl. The feral sound sends a shiver down Laura’s spine and she wants nothing else than to be devoured by Carmilla in the most primal way.
“Fuck me,” she begs and it’s all Carmilla needs to hear to trail her hand up on the inside of Laura’s thigh, gathering wetness on her fingertips before sliding into Laura, tight walls closing down around her two fingers with overwhelming warmth.
“God, you feel so…” she grunts instead of finishing the sentence, the words dying on the tip of her tongue, taken over by the pure pleasure rolling from Laura’s lips and it feels like fucking eternity since she’s last had Laura under her, around her, so wet and soft and hot only a human can be.
Blood pumping in her veins and flesh melting under Carmilla’s fingers, skin burning wherever she touches her.
The tiny, soft moans Laura lets out make her ache with desire.
Her fingers are rough and needy inside Laura. They move with purpose, backed up by her hips.
Laura’s hands leave marks on her back as Carmilla proves herself by crooking her fingers inside her and brushing her thumb over Laura’s clit, earning a scream that makes her bite into Laura’s shoulder. Laura’s walls crush her fingers and she arches under Carmilla, thighs shaking with the waves of her orgasm.
She’s trembling when Carmilla plants soft kisses on her chest, fingers pumping gently to ease her back into reality. Carmilla brings her down until Laura’s body slumps under her, thighs slackening around Carmilla’s waist and a smile stretching across her face.
She pulls on Carmilla’s damp hair and says with droopy eyes, “That was just, wow…”
Carmilla chuckles and removes her fingers gently, bringing them up to her mouth to taste Laura. She sucks them off, deliberately slow, while Laura stares at her hazily, fingers drawing soft patterns on Carmilla’s lower back.
“Deprivation really did it for you, huh?”
“You did it for me.”
Laura tastes herself on Carmilla’s lips when she kisses her. The bitter taste of bourbon and smoke, laced with her own wetness is a weirdly sexy combination.
“Glad to hear that, cupcake,” Carmilla smiles smugly, flipping them around until Laura is on top of her. Laura’s body wraps around her instantly. She presses her face into Carmilla’s shoulder and sighs. Her breath makes goosebumps rise on Carmilla’s skin and she wonders how.
How she can make Carmilla’s body do things that defy the laws of her existence. She can make her breathe sharply and make her heart fly in her ribcage and she can make her feel alive, briefly, but she knows she can.
When Carmilla comes for her, and she has to pin her down to keep her from falling apart and her face contorts like she might cry from the pleasure and pain of it, then Laura just knows.
“I really missed this.”
Carmilla nuzzles behind her ear and finds peace in Laura’s scent. “I missed you, too.”
They rest in silence for a while and it’s warm and cosy. The rays of sunshine sneak into the room through the curtains and don’t let Carmilla’s skin grow cold as it usually does after sex. Laura is glad for it. She presses closer to her, if that’s even possible.
“Not to bother your snuggle-fest, cupcake,” Carmilla teases after a while, when Laura is about to drift into sleep. “But I really need a shower.”
“No, you don’t,” Laura mumbles against her skin, arms encircling Carmilla’s neck like chains. “Don’t you dare moving.”
Carmilla quirks an eyebrow. “May I remind you that you told me I smell like fat Joe after a double shift in that shit hole of a bar, about half an hour before?”
Laura pouts. “Fine,” she reluctantly detaches from Carmilla’s skin, looking at her firmly. “You can shower…on one condition.”
“And what would that condition entail?”
“I will join you.”
“If you insist, m’dame,” Carmilla smirks.
Laura quickly wipes it off, when she pushes Carmilla against the tiles in the shower and sinks to her knees. When Carmilla comes into her mouth, Laura reminds her that it doesn’t mean she is not pissed at her still. Carmilla pins her hands against the wall and reminds her with her teeth on her neck that she is still pissed at her too.
After numerous reminders, they exit the shower stall spent and hazy, but finally clean.
///
A mutual understanding of not talking about their fight earlier formulates between them.
Reclaiming the physical intimacy is easy. It comes back naturally and they indulge in it all night and the next day. Things are still fragile between them, but every touch and every kiss builds the foundation of a new bridge that arches over the river of their problems.
But it can only last so long, till their peace is bothered.
It happens when Laura’s phone rings on Sunday, while they are having an after-lunch nap on the couch.
Carmilla’s heavy arm is slung across Laura’s waist and she groans in refusal, when Laura tries to squirm out of the embrace, “Just let it ring.”
“You hate my ringtone,” Laura reminds her.
“True,” Carmilla says with an amused smile, but still doesn’t move.
“I have to pick it up, Carm,” Laura whines, pushing against her chest gently. “Let me go.”
Carmilla relaxes her hold and Laura rises to her feet, running her hand through her hair.
“Useless vampire,” she mumbles under her breath before picking up the phone, her voice an octave higher. “Hi, Miss Green, this is Laura speaking.”
She rolls her eyes when Carmilla turns on her stomach and pushes the yellow pillow on her head to block out the sounds. Her boss asks if she would mind editing an article for her and Laura promises to hand in the work by tomorrow morning.
“Hey,” she sits on the edge of the couch, when the call ends. Her knee brushes against Carmilla’s waist.
She rolls to her side, clutching the pillow to her stomach and looks at Laura through her bangs.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Laura says.
“Like what?”
“Like I gave you a kitty cat for your birthday, then took it away when you’ve fallen in love with it.”
Carmilla snorts, “I don’t even like cats.”
“You are a giant cat, Carmilla.”
“Yeah and I don’t like myself either.”
Laura sighs, resting her hand on Carmilla’s thigh. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Come on,” Laura pleads. “Don’t go back there again, please.”
Carmilla’s eyes drop to the pillow, shoulders slumping as she says, “Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I kinda hoped we’d spend this weekend together, just us.”
Laura bends her neck, searching for Carmilla’s eyes. “It’s just a small task, I promise. I’ll finish in an hour, then we can go out for dinner,” she squeezes Carmilla’s thigh. “What do you say?”
“I think I’d like that very much.”
///
An hour turns into two and then she loses account of the time.
The article is so long that the words keep jumbling together in her mind and she has to read every sentence twice to make sure she’s got them right. Her eyes are glued to the screen of her computer and she is too focused to notice Carmilla entering the room.
She only does, when Carmilla puts her Tardis mug down on the desk. The smell of hot coco hits her nose and her heart flutters in her chest.
“Thank you,” she shoots Carmilla a smile and feels her eyes watering.
Carmilla returns it half-heartedly, before planting a sloppy kiss on Laura’s temple. She turns on her heels, but Laura catches her hand.
“Stay.”
Carmilla halts and the room is suddenly filled with tension. Laura licks her lips and her fingertips touch Carmilla’s wrist, drawing circles on her soft, pale skin. The effect is inevitable and it makes her smile when Carmilla lets out a breathy sigh.
“Stay with me,” Laura says, watching Carmilla as she slowly turns around. Her eyes, half-lidded, bore into Laura’s and her look is soft and open and somehow, resigned. It scares Laura that Carmilla might be giving up on her and her voice turns thin and frantic, “Please.”
She drops to her knees, ready to beg, when Carmilla tilts her chin up. “What are you doing?”
Laura’s hands come up to settle on the back of Carmilla’s naked thighs, where her shorts end. “Let me make it up to you.”
“Laura.”
“Please,” Laura clings desperately to her.
Carmilla cups her jaw and tries to pull her up, but Laura is planted solidly on the floor. “You don’t have to. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Laura argues. She can see it in Carmilla’s eyes and it hurts. She needs to make things better. She needs to show her that from now on, things will be better.
She will be better.
“I need to do this,” she pushes her face into Carmilla’s abdomen and guides Carmilla’s hand on the back of her head.
She breathes into Carmilla’s skin when no resistance comes and her mouth opens, tongue sliding out to lick along the edge of Carmilla’s shorts.
Carmilla’s hips twitch and Laura smiles into her skin, nipping and sucking on her flesh. Her hands creep further up on Carmilla’s thighs, fingertips touching her sensitive spots and she shudders when Carmilla lets out a breathy moan. Her smell engulfs Laura and it makes something snap inside her.
It always does.
She tugs Carmilla’s shorts off her legs with eager hands, until they drop on the floor, damp and forgotten and bites down on her hipbone. Carmilla’s hands pull and push on her head, fingernails digging into Laura’s scalp when she starts laying wet kisses on the inside of her thigh.
The pain is delicious.
Carmilla squirms under her mouth, hips thrusting into Laura with every nip and suck Laura treats her thighs with. Laura’s hands are firm on Carmilla’s ass when she finally tastes her, her tongue brushing against the spot that sends Carmilla into sweet oblivion.
She is so slippery and sensitive that Laura has to work carefully not to get her teeth knocked out by her jerky hips and she laps away slowly, her own arousal building deep in her belly by every throaty moan Carmilla lets out.
It is so fucking sexy that Laura wants to eat her until her knees turn red and raw.
Carmilla is dripping into her mouth and her legs tremble around Laura’s head, when her tongue enters her. She screams and falls forward, seeking leverage on Laura’s desk with her hands as she rides her mouth.
Laura is dizzy by the thick, damp air and the overwhelming taste in her mouth, but she craves more. She is insatiable. She can’t stop feeding off Carmilla.
She only stops when Carmilla comes into her mouth with a loud, high-pitched moan escaping her lips that shocks both of them and her thighs convulse around Laura’s head. Laura groans into Carmilla, the sensation sending another wave of shock through Carmilla’s body. She keeps rocking into Laura, a hand coming down on the back of Laura’s head, tangling into her hair. Her hips start slowing down as she is descending back to earth.
Laura drags it out as long as she can, using her last breaths to lick Carmilla dry and plant soft kisses to her favorite spots only Laura knows where to find.
When Carmilla’s grip slackens around her head and fingers untangle from her messy hair, Laura lays a soft kiss under Carmilla’s belly button and looks up at her.
Carmilla is covering her face with her hand, and Laura’s heart breaks when Carmilla’s shoulders shake.
“Baby,” she whispers, rising to face level. She doesn’t touch her, not yet.
After all these years, she knows when to hold back. She knows when to be patient and let Carmilla come to her.
Carmilla turns her head away, hiding from her in embarrassment and Laura soothes her gently, “It’s okay, I’m here.”
Her tender voice coats Carmilla’s naked body like a blanket. Suddenly, she craves Laura’s warmth.
She wraps her arms around Laura’s small frame, burying her face into her neck and finds solace in her. Laura holds her, stroking along her spine, up and down, until Carmilla sniffles against her.
“God, this is ridiculous.”
Laura giggles, heart leaping in her chest. “It is sort of cu-”
“Say that word and I’ll end your life.”
“That’s fine, as long as you’d turn me then,” she sings jokingly, but it’s not really a joke and they both know that.
Years have passed since Laura first brought it up, but Carmilla still refuses to talk about it. Laura knows that their time is limited until she grows too old to be an eighteen year-old’s girlfriend. It would look funny and weird.
Carmilla pulls away, wiping her cheeks roughly before she looks at Laura. “Drop it, cupcake,” she says hoarsely. “It’s not happening.”
Laura is pretty sure this is the first time in months that Carmilla’s even acknowledged the topic and she jumps on the opportunity.
“Do you want to wait until I’m all wrinkly and I have grey hair?”
“I don’t want to talk about this now,” Carmilla pulls away, bending to grab her shorts. She tugs them up on her legs swiftly.
“You never want to talk about this.”
“That’s because it will never happen, Laura,” Carmilla’s eyes flash dangerously. Laura knows she is pushing her too far right now, but maybe this is the perfect moment. They are both open now, walls down and lips unsealed.
Laura rests her hands on her hips. “Why don’t I get a say in that, Carmilla?” she asks. “It’s my life after all.”
“Yes, it is your life that you want me to take.”
Laura swallows. It does sound differently worded like that.
“But you’d also give me a new life.”
“You want your life to be like this?” Carmilla motions to herself angrily, her eyes wide and possessed. “I’m a monster, Laura.”
“I watch you every day, moving on with your life, while I’m stuck in this goddamn place forever,” the words pour out of the darkest place inside her, “I will watch you grow old and you will hate me for letting you go, or I will kill you and hate myself for doing that to you for the rest of eternity. I can take you hating me,” she whispers, eyes flickering between Laura’s. “Hating myself even more is not something I can live with.”
“I’d never hate you.”
Carmilla shakes her head. “Please stop.”
“We have to talk about this,” Laura begs her, holding her hands. “You know that we have to.”
“Just give me some time.”
Laura nods, “Okay.”
She can do that. She can give her time. There is still time for them, she tells herself.
“Don’t hate yourself for loving me,” Laura whispers to her, lacing their fingers together. “I can’t stand that, Carm, do you hear me?”
“I will try,” Carmilla says with a weak smile. It dies before reaching her eyes.
Laura brings their bodies together, hugging Carmilla close to her chest. “You are not a monster,” she whispers into her ear. “Not to me, not with me…never.”
It is love that makes all the difference. It is Laura that makes all the difference.
“What am I to you?”
Her eyes meet Laura’s, afraid of what she will find there. But there’s only warmth in Laura’s hazel eyes, gentle love that melts the color of her orbs.
“You are my home.”
A smile, genuine and wide spreads across Carmilla’s face. She lets out an embarrassed chuckle. Laura kisses the corner of her mouth.
“God, we are such crazy fools.”
“It’s because we are in love,” Laura says. “And all the great sex we have. It releases the hormones.”
“It’s your fault. You did that thing with your mouth and now I’m a fucking mess.”
Laura smiles at her smugly and it earns her a glare.
She sits down on her chair with a pout, reminded that she has unfinished work. The computer has long gone to sleep and she taps the keyboard to wake it up.
“I don’t feel like doing this anymore.”
Carmilla sits on her lap, Laura’s free hand coming up to rest on her back.
“What are you working on?”
“It’s a silly article about picking the perfect baby name,” Laura explains in exasperation.
She loves babies as much as the next person, because they are soft and squishy and their whole appearance is genetically designed to turn women’s brains into mush. But she is also in her early twenties and she’d rather have hot sex with her perfect girlfriend than edit a lame article about perfect baby names.
“People obsess about names way too much these days,” Carmilla muses. “In the long run, they don’t mean a thing.”
“They don’t?”
“Not when the child is born,” she says. “A name only gets meaning when there’s a memory attached to it.”
Laura’s gaze flickers to Carmilla’s face. Her dark eyes rave into the distance.
She must remember someone whose name means a lot to her. Someone from the past that left an imprint on her for eternity. Laura wonders if she’ll do the same, if she’ll be one of those people Carmilla will remember forever. She swallows her doubt.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Just the past,” Carmilla says. “All the lives that I’ve led and all the names that I’ve had.”
Laura’s mouth turns into a smile. “You’ve had some pretty fascinating ones.”
Carmilla groans, “No need to mention them, cupcake.”
“Which one is your favorite?”
“Carmilla.”
Laura shakes her head. It can’t be so easy to pick.
“Why?”
Carmilla leans into her, cheek pressing against Laura’s as she whispers into her ear, “Because when I make you come and my name rolls from your tongue, that’s when I feel most myself.”
///
The night settles around them peacefully.
Candles burn down in the living room, the television - put on mute - is flickering in the background but they only have eyes for each other. An empty bottle of red wine rests on the coffee table and there are half-finished boxes of Chinese takeout forgotten.
The window is open narrowly and the cold summer breeze sneaking in makes goosebumps arise on Laura’s arm. She scoots under the blanket and presses closer to Carmilla’s naked body. Her skin is still warm.
Slow jazz is playing somewhere in the neighborhood.
Carmilla is starting into her eyes and Laura doesn’t need to be turned to feel like this is forever.
///
A month later, after a long day in the office, Laura is hurrying home.
The leaves have already started falling from the trees, turning yellow and red, and crunching under the wheels of her bike as she’s cycling on the street.
It’s the last Friday of September and Laura can’t be late, because Friday means date night and date nights with Carmilla are sacred. Everything with Carmilla kind of is.
A lot has changed in the recent weeks and Laura feels happier than she’s ever been. Sometimes dark circles still appear around her eyes, but instead of work, it’s Carmilla who keeps her up at night. She’s started university and she’s also started talking to Laura more, about ‘this stupid feelings thing’.
They are all mature and grown-up, it makes Laura smug. She bets no one in high school would’ve thought she’d be the one to score the kick-ass job and the hot girlfriend.
Well, the job includes a lot of coffee brewing and said girlfriend is a broody blood-sucker, but still, she couldn’t wish for more in her life.
She is not prepared for the surprise she’s in for.
///
Carmilla is waiting for her on the stairs of their building, leather jacket hanging from her shoulders and a smirk plastered on her face.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Laura walks up to her.
Carmilla pulls her in by the strap of her bike helmet and pecks her lips.
“Missed me?”
“You can’t imagine, cupcake,” Carmilla drawls and then she pulls Laura towards the door, attacking her lips in the elevator like they haven’t kissed each other for months.
///
“What is it, Carm?” Laura whines like a child, when Carmilla refuses to let her into their bedroom.
“Dinner comes first,” she says and returns to the stove. She is not particularly fond of cooking (and claims to be allergic of dishwashing), but if the years spent in Tuscany has taught her one thing, it’s how to make a good pasta.
Laura devours the plate of spaghetti in the question of minutes and Carmilla quirks an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
“Show me,” Laura demands, trying her best to contain a burp.
Carmilla rolls her eyes, “Fine.” She leaves her unfinished plate on the table and leads the way to the bedroom. She opens the door narrowly and peeks in.
Everything is set in place perfectly.
She bites down on her lip nervously and doesn’t take her eyes off Laura’s face as she opens the door wide. The disbelief turns into pure adoration on Laura’s features and then a squeal later, Carmilla is pulled into the tightest hug.
“I can’t believe you,” Laura shakes her head, tears glistening in her eyes as she pulls away. She rests her forehead against Carmilla. “This is - this is amazing, Carm.”
She kisses Carmilla deeply and slowly, because words are not enough to say thank you.
Words are never enough with Carmilla. She needs her lips and her tongue to draw the letters into her.
Carmilla smiles into their kiss, “You really like it?”
“Yes,” Laura bursts out. She sniffles and wipes her cheeks. “Where did you get it?”
Carmilla sighs, “Well, I have to keep some of my secrets, else you’ll get bored of me, won’t you?”
“Never,” Laura giggles when Carmilla yanks her up and brings her to their new bed.
It’s a robust, antique piece with dark wooden frames. There are flowers carved into the wood and it feels like she’s been laid into a warm nest when her back meets the mattress.
Forever is a long time, but Laura thinks it’s not enough to get bored of Carmilla Karnstein.
///
Her locks are tickling Laura’s chin, but she refuses to move. She refuses to even blink and miss a fraction of this moment.
Carmilla is laying on top of her, ear against Laura’s heart and she is humming lazily to the lullaby.
Laura strokes her arm absentmindedly, eyes glazing over her naked body. She is perfect in a way that almost hurts. It would, if Laura couldn’t call Carmilla hers.
But she can and the fresh realization makes her heart skip a beat.
“What was that?”
She shifts under Carmilla and intervenes their fingers. “What, baby?”
“Your heart just, I don’t know…” she trails off and Laura gulps.
There’s no way Carmilla could’ve felt what her heart just did. But what the hell Laura knows, Carmilla can also disappear in a puff of black smoke. She can probably read heartbeats better than an EKG.
Carmilla plants a kiss on her breastbone, whispering, “If my heart was still beating, it would do that for you.”
Laura brings her hand to her lips and kisses her knuckles. “But it still beats sometimes.”
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because there are some things that make the dead come alive,” Carmilla says.
“What makes you come alive?”
Carmilla flips around to her stomach, chin settling on Laura’s stomach.
“You.”
Then she is lowering herself between Laura’s legs and makes her heart skip beat after beat with every flick of her tongue.
///
“How do you feel?” Laura asks late in the morning, when they wake up to the sun pouring into the room and Carmilla looks like an angel in the white light.
“I feel like home.”