Archive of Our Own

Carmilla honestly meant for the trip to be quick. She barely liked leaving her apartment as it was, let alone on the weekend when people were absolutely everywhere. But necessity had driven her to the grocery store; she was out of beer and her grand plans of getting pleasantly buzzed before sinking into her bed were not going to be stopped. Not after the week she had; not after the anniversary.

But then she saw the girl and in an instant, she knew her night was over. It was just…she was so small and so cute but, most overwhelmingly, so sad. Once glance at her and Carmilla's body had thrummed, like a note being played in tune for the first time. The girl stood shaking in front of the ice creams in the freezer section, her arms wrapped around her middle like she was holding her ribs in. Her honey colored hair was thrown up in a haphazard tail, her bare shoulders golden and goose bumped against her dark tank top. Carmilla couldn't tear her eyes away.

The girl was just staring, eyes unfocused. The motion sensor lights had shut off in the case in front of her, so she must have been standing stock still for a while. Carmilla debated, briefly, ducking back out of the aisle and running up another. This girl was already trouble, she could feel it in her knee caps and her elbows and the swell of her lungs. But then she heard a small, ragged inhale from the aisle's only other occupant and Carmilla's chest felt like it split open. She couldn't just leave her.

Cautiously, she moved toward the girl. The lights flicked on in the freezers, her movements triggering them. The girl was unfazed. Tucking her beer under her right arm, Carmilla slowly reached her hand out and gently laid it on the girl's shoulder. She didn't seem to notice the contact. Carmilla ignored the tingling in her palm and spoke softly.

"Hey, are you-"

At her voice, the girl whirled around in panic, shoving Carmilla hard in the chest. Surprised, Carmilla stumbled backward, her feet not fast enough to catch her tipping body. The beer slid out from under her loose arms and smashed to the ground, followed by Carmilla.

Her breath was knocked out of her as her back slammed into the floor. Carmilla could feel the cold beer seeping into her clothes and hoped that she hadn't just embedded a million shards of broken bottle into her back.

The girl's eyes flashed over the scene, a clarity appearing in them, before she squeaked and slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Oh my god…oh my god, I am so sorry, I didn't…I didn't mean, I was just-"

Her hands flew around wildly as she sputtered, her face reddening with a mortified flush. Carmilla watched the girl for a moment, her brain catching up with what had happened. After a slow and achy assessment, she realized she'd managed to avoid hurting anything or cutting herself on the glass shards, though her ass and back were going to be sore as hell later. Carefully, Carmilla raised her hand from the floor at the panicked girl before she could spiral any further.

"Cupcake, don't worry about it. Shouldn't have startled you."

The girl bit her lip, tears brimming in her wide brown eyes. She shuffled to Carmilla and helped her up, her hands gentle and trembling against Carmilla's forearms. Carmilla ignored how soft her hands were, how surely and carefully her finger tips pressed into Carmilla's skin. The freezer section was not the time to think like that. It was never time to think like that.

She groaned as the girl helped hoist her, her legs shaking a little as she stood. Just as Carmilla managed to steady herself against the girl, an employee rounded the corner of the aisle.

"Everything okay?" The teen asked, jogging over and glancing frantically at the broken beer bottles.

After a panicked glance at Carmilla, the girl opened her mouth to reply, tears about to flood her face. Carmilla cut her off before she could start babbling again.

"Slipped. No big deal. I can pay for the beer, though."

Carmilla could feel the girl relax next to her as the kid shook his head.

"No, that's okay. Not your fault you slipped. As long as you're okay and aren't gonna like, sue or something."

Carmilla shook her head. "Can't sue you for my clumsiness."

The kid sighed in relief.

"Sweet. I'm gonna get stuff to clean this up, then."

He trotted back down the aisle and disappeared. Carmilla turned to look at the girl, who she realized was still carefully holding her forearms.

She seemed to notice it at the same moment as Carmilla because she suddenly jumped away as if she'd been burned. Carmilla rocked back and forth on her heels to get her balance at the sudden loss. The girl looked ready to grab her again, but instead began wringing her hands together.

"I'm so sorry. You didn't have to lie, I…I'm sorry, I…" The girl was working herself up again, hands fluttering everywhere, and Carmilla's back was really starting to ache; she didn't want to be caught in another ramble.

She extended her hand catching one of the girl's flailing ones midair.

"Don't worry about it. Not everyday a pretty girl knocks me off my feet."

The girl looked surprised, her eyes widening. Carmilla felt her own cheeks redden. She hadn't flirted with anyone in years. What the hell was she thinking?

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them as Carmilla realized she was still holding the girl's hand. As politely as she could, she dropped it and took a step back. The girl just looked at her, eyes focused and curious. She was looking at her like a riddle to be solved, like she was studying her, or at least it felt like it. Rather than stand and be gawked at, Carmilla let words come out of her mouth.

"Rough day?"

The girl took a minute and shook her head, as if she was drawing herself out of her thoughts.

"Sorry?"

Carmilla shoved her hands in her pockets. "Rough day, I asked. Most good days don't end with people zoning out in front of the ice cream section."

The girl's cheeks colored prettily and her eyes darted to the floor.

"I…"

The teen employee came careening back with a squeaking trashcan rolling behind him. The girl glanced at him, her words cut off.

Carmilla watched as the girl turned back toward her. Their eyes met and Carmilla knew she had to figure this girl out. Her entire being was screaming not to, to run from this girl who seemed to crack something open within her, but she couldn't bring herself to listen. No one with eyes that kind should be left to feel so sad. Other people should be sad, twisted people, broken people…people like Carmilla. But this goofy, nervous girl before her surely didn't deserve whatever had hurt her.

Without thinking, Carmilla extended her hand and gently cupped the girl's wrist. She tugged her away from the kid who was carefully sweeping up the broken glass. The girl glanced down at their contact, her face coloring in a way Carmilla was quickly growing to like. She shook the thought; not the time, never the time.

"You know, sometimes if you tell someone your problem, its not so bad." Carmilla murmured, her voice softer than she had intended. She was already in too deep, her mind was screaming. Run, Carmilla, don't do this. She shook the voice and kept her eyes steady.

The girl looked up, their faces closer than Carmilla had realized. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest when the girl's eyes met hers.

"You like ice cream?" The girl asked.

Carmilla nodded, a rare smile sliding across her features.

-

Turns out, there was a little diner tucked away in the same shopping complex as the grocery store. Laura, Carmilla had learned her name on the short walk, was a usual there. The only reason she was settling for store bought ice cream over the shop's was because she had intended to go home.

"I, uh, don't really like being out. Today."

Laura played absently with the spoon in her sundae dish. They honestly hadn't said much beyond their names and their orders. Mostly the two had sat quietly in a silence that was both comforting and awkward. Carmilla never liked being pushed, so she carefully sipped her Irish coffee and waited for the girl to make the first move.

At her admittance, Carmilla looked up from her mug.

"That why you were caught in the freezer section?"

Laura breathed out a laugh and Carmilla felt her chest tighten. Her brain was still pleading for her to leave, run while she could. Carmilla took another sip of her coffee.

"Uh, yeah." Laura stopped fiddling with the spoon and wiped her palms on her jeans, her breath coming in soft, short inhales. Carmilla suddenly felt very concerned she'd over stepped.

"You don't have to say why." Carmilla blurted. Laura's eyes met hers for the first time of their meal. Carmilla bit her bottom lip in worry before adding, "Sometimes…sometimes just someone knowing something's wrong can help. So…don't feel pressured or anything."

Laura stared at her, that same analyzing stare from the freezer aisle; like she was looking at a map she couldn't read.

"You some kind of sadness expert?" She teased.

Carmilla was caught off guard by her sudden lightness. It made her chest tighten and release in a way she hadn't felt in years. Carmilla shook her head, leaning back against the vinyl of the booth.

Her immediate answer was yes. Yes, she was a sadness expert. She'd dealt with sadness a majority of her life. But maybe that was too much to share with a complete stranger over ice cream. Oddly, Carmilla couldn't tell. The night had already been one of weirdness; could revealing her inner darkness really hurt? Should she just blow past it like normal, pretend she wasn't constantly guilty and aching?

Strangely, Carmilla settled on telling the truth.

"Kind of. Maybe not a expert, but definitely a professional of some sort."

Laura seemed satisfied. A whisper of a smile was on her mouth as she studied Carmilla in the aftermath of her response. Blush worked it's way up Carmilla's neck and into her cheeks but she couldn't bring herself to look away from Laura. Carmilla watched as a series of emotions flickered over Laura's face; she couldn't quite name them but when they settled, she looked sheepish.

Laura looked down at her sundae dish. "I'm so sorry I shoved you. I kind of didn't know where I was. Sometimes I just get…lost in my head. On today."

Carmilla just nodded. Her palms itched to hold Laura's hand. She wanted to help ground her. You're here with me, her mouth wanted to say. She took a sip of her coffee in the hopes of extinguishing that urge.

"Today is just…" Laura tapped her fingers on the edge of the table and Carmilla remembered how her skin felt against her own. Carmilla tightened her jaw, shoving the thought away. Keep it together, Karnstein. Don't feel anything. Just stop.

Laura looked up, eyes locking with Carmilla's. "My mom ran off when I was a kid. I don't really remember it, or her really, and my dad is so great and was the absolute best parent a kid could have. I mean, sure, he's a little overbearing and he wants me keep bear spray on hand and maybe, once, he tried to slip a tracker in my shoe but -"

"Cupcake, let in some air." Carmilla cut in softly.

Laura's eyes met hers and she nodded, taking a steadying breath.

"The leaving…that, I mean that was bad. But…But when I was in high school, I went on holiday with some friends and…I saw my mom for the first time in six years. And she didn't really recognize me, I don't think, at first, but I recognized her. And I didn't know what to do, if I should say something, but then she saw me and I knew she knew who I was. There was just this…this…look in her eyes. But instead, she just ignored me. She just left again and then I saw…she…I…"

Carmilla couldn't stop the urge and suddenly her hand was laced with Laura's on top of the sticky diner table. Laura squeezed her fingers. Carmilla ignore the shock that rippled up her arm. After a shuddering breath, Laura rushed out the rest.

"She had a kid. Couldn't have been older than four. But she looked like me. Just like me. Just like I used to. My mom ran off and I have a sister somewhere who I've never met, who I'm never going to meet, and my mother left me to go get a redo with some other kid."

Laura was crying now; not horribly but tears were streaming down her face and her breath was ragged. All of Carmilla's impulses told her not to, screamed at her to distance herself from the inevitable blast, but she found herself getting up and sliding next to Laura on the opposite side of the booth. Without questioning, she wrapped the smaller girl in her arms and let Laura collapse, sobbing, into her chest.

Carmilla couldn't even think. She couldn't imagine what being left felt like. Loss, she understood. Pain, confusion, anger, guilt…Carmilla could write books about it. But actively being left…Carmilla couldn't fathom it. She particularly couldn't imagine someone leaving Laura.

How someone could want to leave the adorable, sobbing cupcake of a girl in her arms seemed unreal. She'd known Laura all of two hours and the mere idea of leaving her seemed devastating.

Her last thought rang out in her head like a gong. Not the time for those types of thoughts. Get it together, Karnstein. Do not get attached to her. Carmilla shook her head and instead focused on rubbing gentle patterns against Laura's back while the girl sobbed herself out in the middle of an empty diner.

-

After Laura spent nearly twenty minutes cleaning herself up in the bathroom, they both got shooed out of the diner as it closed. She looked exhausted, but strangely more relaxed after her crying session. If she was embarrassed about it, it didn't show. She just seemed resigned.

Carmilla stood next to Laura's car, an appropriately adorable hatchback, as Laura fiddled with her keys. This had to have been the oddest evening Carmilla had ever spent. She wouldn't even classify it as fun or enjoyable. Yet, strangely, her chest ached at the thought of it ending. At the thought of leaving Laura.

"I don't know what to say." Laura admitted.

Carmilla laughed. "Me neither."

Laura smiled, her hands still fidgeting with the keys. Carmilla watched her delicate fingers play with a TARDIS keychain, her hands trembling against the little blue box. She looked like she wanted to say something, her mouth drawn into a hard line and her hands unable to keep still. Carmilla wanted to hear whatever she was thinking.

"If you wanna say something, just spit it out, cupcake. Its kind of cold."

"Do you want to come over?" Laura blurted out.

Carmilla's eyebrows rose into her hairline. "Come over?"

Laura nodded. "To my apartment. I have a few beers and I shattered yours and I cried on you in that diner and we just met and I feel awful about everything and we could just sit and watch Netflix or I could ask about you or we don't have to talk at all and I totally get if you're kind of ready to run from me because, honestly, I probably would but I figured I'd ask because-"

Carmilla gently pressed a finger to Laura's mouth before she could think better of it. The girl's eyes widened.

"Anyone ever tell you, you talk a lot?"

Laura nodded against her finger and Carmilla tried to ignore the way her lips felt. She pulled her hand away and looked down at her scuffed boots.

"I'd love to come over."

When she looked up, Laura was beaming a smile so bright that Carmilla's whole body felt lighter. Carmilla was in trouble. She'd been in trouble from the moment she saw her in the ice cream aisle. But, oddly, Carmilla thought Laura might be the kind of trouble worth getting involved in.

-

Laura's apartment was as warm as the girl that lived there. It was small, but well lived in. Colorful, filled to the brim with knick-knacks, and vaguely smelled like vanilla and chocolate. There was a tiny yellow loveseat in the living room, stacks of multicolored dishes visible through the glass cupboards in the kitchen, and a pile of DVDs balanced precariously near the doorway to what Carmilla assumed was the bedroom. It looked haphazard but tidy, overly saturated and bright.

Carmilla hated that she liked it.

"It's a little messy. Sorry." Laura offered, as she grabbed two beers from her fridge.

Carmilla took one of the bottles when offered and shook her head. "If you think this is messy, you'd hate my place."

Laura smiled and moved to the loveseat. Carmilla paused awkwardly before following and plopping down among the yellow cushions. She took a large swig of her beer, her nerves suddenly alight. She had no idea what happened now. She hadn't been alone with a girl this long in years; certainly not with one who had recently cried on her in a diner.

Laura was clearly as at a loss as well, her hands picking at the label on her bottle as her eyes studied Carmilla once again. Her gaze was intense and it made Carmilla's stomach flip.

Before Carmilla could think better of her, words tumbled out of her mouth.

"What are you trying to figure out, cupcake?"

Carmilla couldn't stop herself from asking. It was like Laura turned off her filter. She didn't mind the girl's eyes on her, in fact she liked it a little too much, but she was wondering what exactly she was looking for. Carmilla wanted to tell her there wasn't anything to find. She was nothing. And anything she did find, she wasn't going to like. No one liked her. Not once they knew everything.

Laura's face colored in that adorable blush as she shrugged. She looked down at her beer, the label peeling off at one of the corners.

"Trying to figure you out, I think. Trying to guess why you're a sadness expert, maybe."

More words came out of Carmilla's mouth without her permission.

"You could just ask."

She didn't know why she said it. She never talked about it. She hates to. But Laura's eyes aren't pitying, they're curious, and she isn't badgering her, she's just waiting. And there is something about her; something Carmilla can't name. So she let the words hang in the air instead of hastily taking them back. She opened her walls a tiny, miniscule crack.

Laura bit her bottom lip in thought and the grip on Carmilla's beer tightened.

"Okay, then." Laura settled, her dark eyes never leaving Carmilla's. "Why are you sad?"

Another set of words came pouring out of Carmilla. She couldn't hold them in. She didn't know why. Somehow this tiny girl before her cracked the dam.

"I'm alone."

Laura nodded, as if that was answer enough. And it was, it should have been. But the words kept coming out of Carmilla's mouth like they were a poison she needed to spit out.

"All of my family is dead."

Laura's eyes widened and her hands ceased fiddling with her beer bottle.

"The girl I loved left me when they died."

Laura's hand landed on Carmilla's knee, her palm warm through the fabric of her jeans.

"I'm the reason they all died."

At the admission, Laura slowly set her beer down, eyes never leaving Carmilla's. She gently pulled Carmilla's from her stiff hand and set it next to her own on the table. Both her hands landed warmly on Carmilla's knees. Carmilla's body shivered at the contact. She didn't feel like crying, she was long past that now, but she knew how rattling it was to hear someone else's trauma; she'd just experienced it tonight. She placed her hands over Laura's on instinct.

"Carmilla, I'm sure it isn't-"

"Laura," Carmilla whispered, her voice calm and warm around Laura's name, "you can spend all night telling me it wasn't my fault. Dozens of people have tried. Even more haven't. But the fact of the matter is that it was my fault. And that's okay, because I can't change it. However, I do have to live with it. And that is why I'm sad."

Laura's wide brown eyes were swimming with something unnamable. Carmilla didn't know what else to say. The truth was out there. She just had to wait for the inevitable; when Laura decided to toss her out because she was too awful.

Carmilla wondered when it would happen. They sat like that for a while, with Laura's hands in Carmilla's, just looking at each other. Laura's eyes weren't hard or judgmental. If anything, they were kind.

Carmilla could help but think about her family, the stupid candle, how when she snuck out that night she never thought her house wouldn't be there to be sneak back into; she thought about Laura's mother who left her daughter for another one, about Laura letting herself thinking about it on this one day in the same way Carmilla gave herself one day to think about her own loss.

Who knew she was going to meet someone like Laura in the ice cream aisle?

"I don't care." Laura murmured after a long while.

Carmilla looked at her quizzically, her heart hammering. No one had ever said that to her before. She wasn't sure what it meant.

Laura's grip on her hands tightened, as if she could sense Carmilla's confusion.

"If it was your fault, I don't care."

And for some reason, those words comforted Carmilla more than any other's had before. She assumed that comfort was what prompted her to say what she'd been thinking since the diner.

"And I don't understand." She murmured.

Laura's head tilted to the side in silent question. Carmilla pulled her into a hug on impulse, Laura's body tensing and then relaxing against hers instantly.

"I don't understand how anyone could leave you."

-

The first thing Carmilla noticed was that she was warm. Exceedingly so. Normally, she kept her apartment cool and slept under a few thin blankets just to keep from shivering. She couldn't stand being hot. But as she woke, she realized she was so damn warm.

More pressing, she didn't hate it.

She took a deep breath and sighed, wiggling down further into the heat. Her lungs were filled with an unfamiliar scent; a mix of flowers and sleep and laundry detergent. She inhaled again, filling herself up with whatever it was. It made her lungs full and her heart thump low in her stomach. She took another slow breath in and sighed it away.

That's when something on her chest moved. Well, it didn't exactly move, but it snuggled. Something warm and soft under her hands was pressing closer to her chest. It breathed against her skin, lighting goose bumps all over her body. Then, the night before flooded her mind. The store. Laura. The diner. Talking. Holding her. Falling asleep. No nightmares. Carefully, Carmilla cracked her eyes open.

Blinking away the blurriness, Carmilla glanced down at the girl sprawled across her body. Laura's hair had fallen out of its pony tail and was spread wildly around her. Her face was pressed into Carmilla's chest, the tip of her nose gently grazing the top of Carmilla's breast. Her breath came out in soft puffs, ghosting over her skin and sending Carmilla's heart into a skittering frenzy. Laura's hands were fisted in Carmilla's shirt, holding on as if she was about to run off.

Which could not have been further from the truth. Carmilla was concerned she may never leave. Not if Laura looked like that in the morning. Not if this was how it felt to hold her and be held by her. It was unfair how peaceful and beautiful she looked. Carmilla was certain her own eyeliner was probably down to her chin. Yet, this tiny cupcake managed to look like Sleeping Beauty, even after she cried for twenty minutes in a diner.

Unconsciously, Carmilla's fingers had begun trailing up and down Laura's shoulders and across the back of her neck. Her skin was so soft and warm and Carmilla couldn't make her hands stop. With a moan that made Carmilla's entire body thrum, Laura began to stir and arched her body upward, seeking Carmilla's wandering fingers. Carmilla brushed the wispy hairs away from the base of Laura's neck, twirling them in her fingers. She ghosted her nails down her spine, gently swirled her thumb over her shoulder blade.

Then, reality must have crashed into Laura hard, because she jumped up and pulled away like Carmilla had stabbed her.

She scooted to the other side of the small love seat hastily, her hands gripping the armrest as though she might fall off. Her chest rose and fell in a panicked breath. Carmilla gave her a tight lipped smile and held up her hands in surrender.

"Uh, morning."

Laura's whole face turned red and she covered her cheeks with her hands.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, Carm, I did not mean to fall asleep on you."

Carmilla tried not to shiver at the nickname and instead gave a relaxed shrug, dropping her hands into her lap. "You weren't the only one who fell asleep. I'd say we were both a little exhausted."

Laura's hands fell from her face and she gave a quiet laugh. It made Carmilla's chest tighten again.

"Yeah. Yeah." Laura agreed in a murmur.

They both looked at each other, the blush fading from Laura's cheeks, and Carmilla felt her own heat up under Laura's gaze. Maybe she should just leave. This was already the weirdest day of her life. She'd probably overstayed her welcome. It wasn't like Laura wanted to be friends. She didn't want Carmilla around; she was probably annoyed she was still there.

Carmilla decided she should just rip the band-aid off and flee.

"Well I should-"

"Do you want to-"

Both girls spoke at once and then chuckled nervously.

"You first." Carmilla offered, her heart in her throat.

Laura tucked a wild strand of hair behind her ear and swallowed.

"I, uh, was going to say do you want to stay for breakfast? It’s the least I can do for falling asleep on you."

Carmilla felt her hands tingle. Don't. Mistake. Leave. Her brain set off every siren she could think of. Before she could stop herself, she spoke.

"Absolutely."

-

After their impromptu breakfast of eggs and eggs ("I'm sorry, I'm terrible at grocery shopping."), Carmilla and Laura exchanged phone numbers ("Seems only appropriate after sleeping with you, cupcake.").

A few days later, Carmilla couldn't resist the temptation to check on Laura. A few words of a text message turned into a conversation that lasted nearly three days. It only ended when Laura demanded to see Carmilla's apartment because it was "only fair".

-

"It's very you." Laura decided as she tucked herself into an oversized wingback chair.

Carmilla laughed, stirring the pasta sauce once more before popping the lid back on the pot to let it simmer. She glanced at Laura, who was scanning the room with her intense gaze, and watched her take a long sip of red wine from her stemless glass. Carmilla tried not to stare at her mouth, the way it slipped so carefully over the lip of the cup, but she failed. Shaking her head, Carmilla grabbed her own wine glass and wandered into the adjacent living room.

"Finding anything surprising?" Carmilla asked as she plopped down on her leather sofa.

Laura hummed. "No TV. That's a little unusual."

It was true. Instead of a television, Carmilla had a wall of built in bookshelves surrounding a fireplace. It once had a mantle, but she'd installed more shelves instead. She'd rather read a book than watch a show any day.

"More into reading." She offered, sipping from her wine glass.

Laura smiled into her wine. "Could have guessed that."

Carmilla felt her cheeks flush. How was it that Laura could make her blush? She hadn't blushed in years. There…there were a lot of things she hadn't done in years. She tried not to think about it. She tried not to think of all the things she hadn't done in years that she wouldn't mind doing with Laura.

"Maybe I'm just not watching the right shows." Carmilla finally said, ignoring her thundering heartbeat.

Laura's face lit up at her words. She smiled her million watt smile and said, "I'm just the right person to fix that."

-

It was six weeks later and Carmilla and Laura may as well have been roommates. The two constantly saw each other. One night, Carmilla would go to Laura's where they would watch endless hours of Netflix and eat food that was terrible for them. The next, Laura would show up at Carmilla's demanding a real meal and they would spend the evening sharing stories from work.

Laura wrote for an online women's magazine. It wasn't what she wanted and she rarely got to write anything of substance since she was just starting out, but she hoped one day to break into the bigger pieces. Carmilla loved watching Laura get worked up when talking about feminist issues and the problems with the media. Her rambling had become endearing. It had become adorable.

Laura let Carmilla complain about her job (when she needed a break from ranting). As a book editor, Carmilla thought life was going to be interesting and she'd get to read more and more new things. However, the company she worked for discovered her knack for philosophy texts and she'd been shoved into the college textbook corner to slog away. She didn't hate it, but there were days when she felt her brain had turned to mush.

"Of course you'd be good at philosophy." Laura had laughed when she realized what Carmilla usually had to read through.

Carmilla shook her head, smiling. She'd been smiling a lot more since Laura, she realized. That was dangerous.

"Almost majored in it." She finally said.

"Almost?"

Carmilla nodded. "Went a different route. Art history."

Laura's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Can you draw?"

A laugh burst from Carmilla. "Not a bit. But just because I'm not talented doesn't mean I can't appreciate those who are."

A look flashed over Laura's face that Carmilla couldn't name. It was just a moment but it was something; a brightness in her eyes that was there one moment and gone the next. Like a firework. Carmilla wanted to see that look again but she didn't know what she had done to see it the first time.

As Laura took a sip of wine and hummed again, leaning back in her chair, Carmilla swore she would try and make Laura's eyes light up like that as much as possible.

-

It was another two weeks before Carmilla realized she was falling in love with Laura. Somehow, she had managed to ignore all the signs of having a crush (in fairness, she hadn't had one in years) and only noticed once she discovered she might be in love with her. Which was problematic, seeing as she'd vowed to never, ever fall in love again. Not after…not after everything.

The realization came late one night after Laura had come over for dinner. Carmilla was tossing the dirty dishes in the sink, with no intention of cleaning them anytime soon, when Laura asked if she could borrow a sweatshirt because she was cold.

Carmilla gestured to her bedroom and told her where to find them (she thought she might have one clean sweatshirt from her college days, though there was no guarantee). Carmilla finished with the dishes, rinsing her hands under the hot water before she wandered into the living room.

She threw her body down on her leather couch, her hands instinctually reaching for a book, when Laura emerged from her bedroom.

Carmilla's throat closed up. Laura was wearing her old Styria State sweatshirt, which had never looked better. It was black with big block letters on the front but was faded from too many washes. It was baggy and oversized and cut Laura at the middle of her thighs, completely hiding the shorts she was wearing. Instead, it appeared that her long tanned legs were fully exposed. As she shuffled to her normal chair, Carmilla was transfixed by the way her muscles moved.

Her heart pounded in her chest, swelled up until she could feel it pulsing in her throat. Had anyone ever looked that good before? Carmilla was certain it was impossible to look as beautiful as Laura Hollis. She eclipsed everything Carmilla had seen or could imagine. The ease in which she moved, the soft confidence that filtered out of her skin, the unknowing sexiness that made Carmilla's knees weak; all of it was Laura and all of it was overwhelming. Carmilla was fairly certain she was going to die.

Laura didn't seem aware of what she was doing to Carmilla because instead of going to her usual spot in the wingback chair, she redirected and plopped down next to Carmilla on the couch. Her legs were within touching distance. Carmilla didn't think she was strong enough for this. Not when Laura was sitting next to her, wearing her college sweatshirt, looking so much like she was Carmilla's to keep. Her fingertips itched to drag across Laura's golden skin, to run under that sweatshirt and press against her ribs.

"Your clothes smell good." Laura murmured, as she leaned her head back against the couch and closed her eyes. She sighed a relaxed breath, her hands clutching the edge of the oversized sweatshirt in between her delicate fingers.

Carmilla couldn't help but feast her eyes on the sight before her. She had never seen Laura so relaxed, so content. She wanted to wrap her in her arms and keep her there, keep her warm and safe and here. Her heart hammered all the louder in her ears as Laura hummed and pressed her nose into the collar of Carmilla's sweatshirt.

Carmilla let her gaze rake over Laura's long neck, wishing she could map it with her mouth, and it was then she realized that she was one hundred percent, without a doubt, falling in love with the small girl beside her.

-

After her realization, Carmilla became significantly more awkward around Laura. Laura, being oblivious and wonderful, didn't notice. It was three weeks later before Carmilla decided she had to get her feelings in check. She couldn't let something as volatile as love take Laura away from her.

Laura had woven her way into Carmilla's life like she was born to be there. In a few short months, Carmilla was completely and utterly addicted. The idea of Laura not being around was unacceptable. So, Carmilla was determined to bury her pounding heart and sweaty palms deep inside and never, ever address the problem. She couldn't lose Laura. She refused.

However, one night, as the two were talking about inane nonsense over the sounds of an Agent Carter episode, Laura told a rather scandalous story involving her college girlfriend. Carmilla was splitting her attention between a dog-eared copy of Jane Eyre, Laura, and the TV but when she heard the tail end of Laura's story, she couldn't focus on anything else.

"It was definitely the weirdest place I've ever had sex. Not everyday you get off a few feet away from your journalism professor-"

Carmilla's hand slipped at her words and ripped an entire page clean out of her book.

Laura froze mid-story and looked over at Carmilla.

"Whoa, Carm?"

Carmilla's face was red, she was sure, and the page she had torn was crunched up in her clenched fist. She was filled with such a hot flash of jealousy that she almost couldn't see straight. The thought of someone else touching Laura, pressing into her, hearing what she sounded like…

Carmilla didn't know what any of those things felt like. She had no reason, no excuse to be jealous. Laura wasn't hers. She was never going to be hers. Laura started speaking again, trying to get Carmilla's attention but all Carmilla could do was slam her book shut.

"I have to go." Carmilla clipped out.

Laura looked at her, wide eyes confused and worried. "Everything alright?"

'No,' Carmilla thought, as she scrambled to throw her coat on. 'Nothing is alright. I am in love with you and nothing is alright.' She shook the thoughts as she tugged her boots on.

Before Laura could stop her, Carmilla was out the door and fleeing to her apartment.

-

Carmilla only lasted six hours before she was back at Laura's door.

It wasn't Laura's fault she was shattered. It wasn't Laura's fault Carmilla fell in love. She didn't deserve Carmilla's coldness. She deserved so much, so many things, and Carmilla knew running away from Laura was the last thing she had a right to do. She wouldn't be one of the people who did that to her. The only way she was leaving Laura was if Laura wanted her to go.

And, with what she was planning to do, she was certain that was a possible outcome.

Carmilla clutched the letter in her sweaty palm. It had taken her nearly four hours to write; then, she had crumpled that one up and scribbled the one she was holding out in twenty minutes. It wasn't enough. Certainly, it wasn't enough. But it was an explanation. And it was a reason. And, at the very least, it was something. And Carmilla usually did nothing, so something was a rather dramatic improvement.

It was four in the morning, but Carmilla lifted her fist and pounded on Laura's door, heart hammering in her ears.

It took a few harsh knocks before the door swung open to reveal a sleep worn Laura Hollis.

Carmilla felt her heart clench. Laura's hair was mussed and her eyes red rimmed. Knives pricked through Carmilla's veins at the idea she had caused her to cry. Laura's brow furrowed, as if she didn't know if she was dreaming, and before Carmilla could begin her speech and hand her the letter, Laura was dragging her inside the darkened apartment by her leather jacket.

The door closed softly behind Carmilla and Laura's hand slid to lace their fingers together. Without a word, she tugged Carmilla into her pitch black bedroom. She somehow deftly avoided the stacks of DVDs and precariously balanced tea mugs until they were at the edge of Laura's bed.

Carmilla still had her letter clutched in her right hand. Her left was tangled with Laura's.

Silently, Laura turned to Carmilla, her face still scrunched with sleep, and tugged on the lapels of Carmilla's jacket. Carmilla tucked the letter in the right pocket before shrugging out of the jacket. Laura's toes poked Carmilla's boots before she slipped back into her bed.

Frozen, Carmilla stared at Laura curled snuggly in her blankets. Clearly not moving fast enough for Laura's liking, her hand reached out and swatted at Carmilla. Broken from her trance, Carmilla tugged off her boots and slid into Laura's bed.

It was warm and smelled like Laura's perfume and Carmilla could feel her heart pounding in her throat. She didn't know what she expected, but it certainly hadn't been this. Her body was stiff in the sheets, paralyzed by fear that Laura wouldn't remember this in the morning and would hate Carmilla for somehow being in her bed.

As if she could sense Carmilla's worry, Laura's warm hand slid over Carmilla's stomach and fisted in her t-shirt, pulling her closer.

"Sleep." Laura whispered, her breath hot on the side of Carmilla's face.

"I'm sorry I left." Carmilla struggled to say.

Laura's arm wrapped fully around Carmilla's middle and her head fell to Carmilla's shoulder with a satisfied hum.

"You came back." She breathed. And Carmilla relaxed until her body melted into sleep.

-

Laura never asked about why Carmilla left that night. Carmilla never gave her the letter that was stuffed in her jacket pocket. They fell back into their old form as if nothing had happened and Carmilla continued to ignore the racing of her heart every time Laura breathed.

-

It was nearly a month later when Carmilla found herself asleep with Laura again. Laura was repainting her apartment after she'd decided to renew her lease and her whole place stunk with the fumes. Carmilla offered her a place to stay, which Carmilla assumed meant she would sleep on the couch while Laura took her bed. Laura had no such ideas.

"You have a king sized bed, Carmilla. Honestly, this is just ridiculous."

Carmilla felt her jaw clench. She couldn't sleep next to Laura. Not again. Not when she knew what it felt like to hold her beneath the warm sheets and how Laura's hands gripped her shirt so tightly and what Laura's soft breathing in her ear sounded like. She would not survive that. Not again.

"I'm being a gentlewoman." Carmilla argued, tossing a thin blanket on her leather couch.

Laura rolled her eyes and grabbed Carmilla's wrist, tugging her with a surprising strength into the bedroom. When the reached the bed, she shoved Carmilla by the shoulders down onto the mattress.

Carmilla almost combusted right then. She'd had this exact fantasy a hundred, a thousand, a million times. Laura taking her on the bed, her hands fast and sure, leaning over her with her breath in her ear, panting out what she was going to do, what she'd always wanted to do…Carmilla could almost feel her pupils dilating. She shook her head.

"Scooch." Laura ordered from above her.

Carmilla couldn't form words, couldn't breath properly, so she did what she was told. Laura slid down next to her and got unnecessarily close with the size of the bed they were in.

"Go to sleep, Carm." Laura whispered, her fingers hooking into the hem of Carmilla's shirt.

And, as she would always, Carmilla did as Laura asked.

-

That night, the dreams came. Carmilla hadn't had them in nearly a year, but she was loose and caught off guard. Laura left her open and vulnerable. And the nightmare could tell.

The fire was everywhere, only this time Carmilla was in it. The smoke was in her lungs and in her eyes and when she looked down, she realized the fire was pouring out of her mouth. She was breathing it all over everything.

Her eyes were stinging and she thought she was screaming. The fire was loud and hot and it burned, burned, burned down in her chest. She tried running but her limbs were tree trunks buried deep in the earth. She tried to call out for help but her voice was flames and it slithered up the ceilings. Then, the world shifted, movement all around her, and she could see them.

She could see her mother and brother and sister, all still and sleeping in their beds, only their skin was burnt and broken and bleeding. Their hair was gone, eaten up by the fire Carmilla exhaled, and their eyes looked at her with disgust. They just laid there, staring and Carmilla tried to look away, tear her eyes from theirs, but then Laura was there.

Laura was there and she was coming toward her and her hands were slowing being burned away and Carmilla could not kill her too. She felt like she was pulling her arms out of her sockets, like her throat was ripping from her neck, and Laura's voice was raspy and rough.

"Carm."

Carmilla was crying but her tears were sparks that caught in Laura's hair. She opened her mouth to warn her, to make her run, to make her stay away, but the fire came out and surrounded all her words.

Please not Laura. Burn me. Kill me. Take me. Taken me instead. Take anyone but Laura. Stop this, please, please don't hurt her.

The words were in her mind, the back of her throat, choking her like smoke. Still, Laura walked closer and closer, her skin burning and falling ashen around Carmilla's feet.

"Carmilla."

Laura's eyes were empty and the fire was burning down her cheeks like tears. It was in her eyelashes and her teeth and it was killing her; Carmilla was killing her.

"Wake up, please. Please, Carm, please."

Suddenly, Carmilla was surrounded by darkness. There were hands on her face, her breath was loud in her ears, and she could feel the ends of a scream tearing its way out of her throat.

"Carm, you're awake. You're with me. It's Laura, you're with Laura."

Carmilla's eyes snapped to her left and there she was. Laura.

Her face was just illuminated in the pale moonlight. Tears were tracking down her skin and Carmilla could feel matching ones on her own cheeks. Laura's hands were pressed against her jaw as she knelt next to Carmilla's body. Carmilla's heart was still hammering in her ears and Laura's voice sounded like she was underwater, but she wasn't in fire anymore. She wasn't in fire and Laura wasn't in fire and she felt her muscles slowly unclench at the realization.

"Carm…?" Laura's shaky voice was heavy with worry.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Wordlessly, Carmilla grabbed Laura's pajama shirt and yanked her down into her arms. Laura fell easily, her own arms instinctually wrapping around Carmilla's shoulders.

"I'm sorry." Carmilla breathed into Laura's neck. Her skin smelled like lilacs and not the burning smoke of her dream.

Laura's hands tangled themselves into Carmilla's hair and tilted her head back. In a different moment, Carmilla would have nearly fainted being so close to Laura. Their noses were brushing, their lips so close that it would have taken just one breath to connect them. But Carmilla could barely believe Laura wasn't ashes and she couldn't think beyond alive alive alive. Laura caught Carmilla's eyes with her own, her left hand brushing away wild hair from Carmilla's cheek.

"You kept saying my name." Laura whispered, tears still quietly rolling down her face. "You kept saying my name and you were crying."

Carmilla nodded, unable to do anything else. She wanted to explain, to tell her everything. She wanted to pour her fears out and have Laura help her hide from them. Instead she said, "I have nightmares."

Laura didn't push further. Her eyes scanned all over Carmilla's face before her lips ghosted across her forehead. Then, she pressed Carmilla's head back into the crook her neck, inhaled a shaky breath, and held her the rest of the night.

Both women shut their eyes.

Neither slept.

The next morning, when Carmilla finally explained why she had nightmares, when she explained why her family's deaths were her fault, when she told her about everything to do with fires, and candles, and burning, Laura did not let Carmilla hide. Instead, Laura tugged her back into the bedroom and forced her to try and take a nap.

Carmilla felt the familiar fear creep into her neck and her fingertips as she tried to rest. But eventually, sleep did come. The only difference between the morning and the night before was that as she drifted off, Laura was pressed to her back like a second skin.

And when the nightmares came looking for her, somehow Laura kept her hidden.

-

They became like orbiting planets. Ones that were slowly being drawn together because one's pull was too strong. Carmilla knew the collision was inevitable and she feared it nearly as much as the fire from her dreams. She couldn't stop wanting Laura, wanting more of her.

Occasionally, Laura would claim she was too tired or too tipsy to go home and she would hold Carmilla as they slept and make chocolate chip pancakes when they woke. She would insist Carmilla stay the night and throw her an old worn t-shirt to sleep in. Carmilla would drift off surrounded by Laura's scent and Laura's hand gripping her shirt like she was about to float away. It was too much. Carmilla couldn't stand it.

She couldn't stand having Laura while really not having her at all.

She often thought about the letter tucked away in her jacket. She hadn't removed it since the night she tried to apologize for running out. Everyday it was harder and harder not to force it into Laura's hands.

Everyday, Carmilla wondered if she would ever be brave enough to.

-

After knowing Laura for nearly nine months, Carmilla realized she hadn't heard about Laura's past relationships since the night of her sudden departure. Which maybe would have been helpful as they browsed a flower market on one warm Sunday morning.

"I want something that looks nice with my walls. I didn't paint them just to buy flowers that clash." Laura huffed as she shuffled between the stands.

Carmilla laughed. "Cupcake, everything in your apartment clashes. I don't see why the flowers should matter that much."

Laura threw a glare over her shoulder as she leaned down to inspect a colorful batch of tulips. Just as Carmilla's mouth opened to give some halfhearted apology, another voice rang out in the market.

"Hollis! Is that you?"

Laura popped up from smelling the tulips and scanned the area. Carmilla glanced behind them and saw the tallest redhead she had ever seen in her life. Laura whizzed past her.

"Danny Lawrence!" She squealed, launching herself into the ginger's arms. The girl grabbed Laura around the waist and spun her amidst all the flowers.

Carmilla stood frozen watching the scene. Her chest was so tight, a light breeze could have cracked her open. She had never heard the name Danny Lawrence, but from a greeting like that, she seemed important.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Laura asked as she was set back on the pavement.

Danny smiled, tucking her long hair behind her ear. "Just moved here, actually."

Laura clapped her hands together gleefully and then she grabbed Danny's hand. Carmilla felt her stomach drop.

Laura tugged the ginger giant over to Carmilla, who was busy pretending she hadn't been staring at the two of them.

"Carm!" Laura's voice was light with excitement and, for the first time, it hurt Carmilla to hear.

She turned to face the duo, a tight smile forced onto her face.

Laura looked up happily at the tall girl and gestured to Carmilla.

"Carmilla Karnstein, I'd like you to meet Danny Lawrence. She was my TA for one of my lit classes in college. We go way back."

Danny laughed and nudged Laura's shoulder, her eyes never leaving Laura. "Oh, we go back all right."

An adorable blush crept up Laura's neck as she looked up at Danny. Carmilla could hear her heartbeat in her ears. She was going to be sick. She was going to be physically ill. Laura and this Danny…they…they…there was more there than a TA and her student. Carmilla suddenly needed to leave.

"Nice meeting you." Carmilla said as she brushed past the two and started walking to the front of the market.

Laura was drawn out of her daze at Carmilla's movement. She said something to Danny before trotting after Carmilla.

"Hey, where you going?" Laura's hand landed on Carmilla's forearm. She stopped and looked at Laura, who stared at her with concerned eyes. It made Carmilla feel guilty. She shook her head.

"Figured you'd wanna catch up with the jolly ginger giant over there." She nodded to where Danny was buying a single orchid. Carmilla felt her stomach turn at the thought of who that flower was for.

Laura's hand slid down Carmilla's arm and laced their fingers together. "You don't want to join us? I haven't seen her in a few years. Sort of lost touch after school…It'd be nice to catch up." She glanced back at Danny, a smile playing on her lips. Carmilla shrugged her hand out of Laura's and stuffed it into her jacket pocket.

Carmilla could feel the pressure building behind her eyes. She was an idiot, an absolute idiot. She'd gone and fallen in love with the single most lovable, oblivious girl on the planet. Carmilla hated that it made her love her more.

"Go. I'll see you later." Her voice was clipped, final.

Before she could let Laura respond, Carmilla shuffled off. She marched back to her apartment, her hand in her jacket pocket, pressed against the letter the whole way home. When she reached her door, she barely managed to make it inside before her eyes started watering.

What was she doing? Laura clearly had no idea what she was doing to Carmilla. And it was clear Carmilla didn't make Laura feel anything like what she made Carmilla feel. The way she looked at Danny, the way she so effortlessly slid into familiarity with her, how she'd been so joyous to jump into her arms….

Carmilla shook her head, running her hands through her hair as her tears finally spilled over.

She thought she was done with tears after her family's death. She thought she didn't have anymore.

But as they slipped down her cheeks, she knew she'd always be able to cry over Laura Hollis.

She let them keep falling as she ripped the worn letter in two.

-

Carmilla didn't see Laura for two days. They didn't text, they didn't call. It was as if Laura was never there to begin with. Carmilla was half convinced she had made her up; the perfect, lovely, broken girl who somehow managed to make her feel again…she might as well have been a myth.

Carmilla was at her desk in the corner of her living room, hunched over a pile of papers and fighting her bleary eyes as she tried to read over the text. Words written about love and the universe and why it all mattered; it was enough to make Carmilla laugh. Almost.

She ran a hand through her hair and leaned back in her chair. Her phone, just next to her right hand, was silent. Was she supposed to call Laura? That was never how their friendship had worked before. Laura just showed up and Carmilla had just shown up and they just kept showing up until the other had carved out room in their life.

Laura wanted to catch up with Danny. She should let her do that.

Laura probably was telling Danny all about her work and what she's been doing and how life has changed since college. Laura was probably blushing at Danny's voice and nervously playing with whatever she was holding and laughing under her breath. Danny was probably bolder than Carmilla and nicer than Carmilla and funnier than Carmilla. Danny was probably asking Laura out and they could be at lunch or they could be at the park or, for all Carmilla knew, they could be fucking while Carmilla sat heartbroken in her apartment.

Carmilla laid her head on the table. It was better this way. It had to be. If Laura knew Carmilla was in love with her…if she didn't return her feelings…that would be it. There would be no more Laura. And that was unacceptable.

But could Carmilla sit and watch Laura fall in love with someone else? Was she capable of that? Carmilla shoved her chair back and stormed to her kitchen. She rummaged through her cupboards until she found an old bottle of whiskey. Brushing the dust off the cap, she unscrewed it and took a long drink. It seared down her throat and made her chest hot.

When it settled in her stomach, she still felt the same.

-

The fourth day without Laura, Carmilla called into work. She worked from home, so technically it was unnecessary, but she didn't want the additional guilt of lying to her employers. She had showered, her hair still damp against the black t-shirt she wore, and had thrown on her leather pants in an effort to feel more like herself.

It didn't help. She still felt like something was missing.

She knew it was Laura.

As she flipped through a worn copy of The Iliad, a knock thundered on her door. She had ordered Chinese food in the hopes of drowning her sorrows in rice instead of whiskey. She slunk to the door, cash in hand, and threw it open.

Standing in her doorway, holding two overstuffed boxes of Chinese food, was Laura Hollis.

"So you haven't disappeared." Laura's voice bit out.

Carmilla sighed and trudged back into her apartment, throwing her money down onto the rickety kitchen table. She shoved her hands into her pant pockets as Laura closed the door and dropped the food on the table near her crumpled cash.

There was a beat, where Carmilla's back was to Laura, and she could nearly feel the gears turning in Laura's head.

"Where the hell have you been?" Laura's voice was sharp, bitter.

Carmilla turned back to her, slowly. Laura's arms were crossed, her hair wild and slightly curled at the ends. Carmilla tried not to think about how pretty she looked, how passion suited her eyes so well, how anger looked so good on her. She tried to force down all those feelings that kept creeping under her skin, that bled out of her at the worst moments.

"I live here, I work here, so logic would suggest I have been here." Carmilla responded.

Laura's eyes flashed with an emotion Carmilla couldn't name.

"You don't talk to me for days and that's all you have to say?"

Laura's voice was high and tight. It felt like a slap. Carmilla felt her own cheeks heat with the intensity of it. She shoved her hands further into her pockets.

"Oh, I'm sorry, should I have contacted you?"

Laura's mouth opened to respond but Carmilla beat her to it.

"Because my phone has been silent for days."

Laura's mouth snapped shut at the implication. The two stared at each other. Carmilla could feel Laura's anger pulsating off her in waves. She couldn't understand it. She wanted to hate Laura, hate her for making her fall in love and for making her wish Danny didn't exist. But she couldn't. It was Laura. And Carmilla couldn't bring herself to be angry.

"Figured you and Clifford would want some alone time." She finally offered, moving to the takeout boxes. She crossed into the kitchen at Laura's silence and tried to fight her closing throat.

"I wanted you to meet Danny."

Carmilla felt her shoulders tense at the name and she was too slow to stop them. She gently placed the boxes down on the counter and turned back to Laura. She didn't want to ask. But she had to. She had to.

"And why is that?" She wished her voice had been so biting.

Laura's eyes were hard. "I wanted you to meet her because you're my-"

Laura stopped short and looked at her shoes, shaking her head. She sighed, turning on her heel like she was going to walk out the door. Carmilla felt her chest nearly crack open at the idea of Laura leaving.

"I'm your what?" She called out, desperate. "Your friend? Well, if I'm your friend, you could have called if you wanted me to meet your new girlfriend."

Laura scoffed, turning on her heel. "That is not what-"

"It's fine, you wanted time alone and you got it. This doesn't have to be a big thing. It's not something we have to talk about." Carmilla turned and started opening her take out boxes, ignoring Laura behind her and praying to every deity who would listen for her not to walk out.

"Carmilla, you-"

"Its probably better we don't hang out all the time anyway, don't want Xena getting in my face about you." Carmilla shook her head, opening her cupboard and pulling out a bowl.

Carmilla could feel her hands shaking. If she could just make light of it, show Laura it wasn't a big deal, maybe Laura would just move on. It would be like the night she ran. They'd never speak of it, they'd ignore it. Maybe Laura wouldn't notice that Carmilla was nearly shattering at the idea of her being with someone else. Maybe Laura could write it off as another strange event never to be discussed. Maybe Laura wouldn't see that Carmilla was desperately trying not to tell Laura that she-

"I love you."

Carmilla froze.

Laura's words hung in the air around them like smoke. The familiar fear from her nightmares was working its way up Carmilla's spine. Laura didn't…she couldn't have said…she didn't mean it. Surely, she didn't mean it.

"I love you." Laura said again, her voice stronger this time.

Carmilla's ears were ringing. She could feel Laura's gaze on her back, feel her eyes wandering all over her body, and all Carmilla could do was clutch the counter and wait for the world to stop spinning.

Her ears were filled with static. Laura loved her. Laura loved her. The world could not be so kind as to let Carmilla be loved by Laura. She didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve her. But her words. She said them. Laura said them.

Laura.

Without thinking, without her permission, Carmilla's hands left the counter and she was turning. Laura stood across the room, across what felt like an ocean of floorboards, and she looked the most relaxed Carmilla had ever seen her. It was like the night she wore Carmilla's sweatshirt.

Calm. Sure. Content.

Laura's gaze was steady.

"I love you." She said it again, as if it was the only thing she knew, as if she was more sure of it than anything else in the world, as if it was the easiest thing to say.

Carmilla took a shaking breath. "Are you sure?"

Laura let out a soft laugh, that familiar adorable blush rising in her cheeks. She nodded.

"I'm sure."

"Thank god." Carmilla breathed. Then, she was crossing the room and pressing Laura back against the front door. Her hands slid up to cup her cheeks, her arms trembling at holding her so closely. Laura's eyes fluttered shut and for a single, perfect second, Carmilla just stared at her.

Laura loved her.

Carmilla leaned forward and pressed her lips to Laura's. Laura's hands wounds around Carmilla's waist, her fingers tangling in her shirt and hauling her in closer; keeping her from floating away. Laura hummed against Carmilla's mouth, the vibrations rippling down Carmilla's body like an earthquake.

Carmilla couldn't think. She couldn't breath. All she could feel was the hot, wonderful mouth against her own. Laura's lips pressed back against her with a gentle power that made Carmilla's throat whine. Laura's hands moved up to fist in Carmilla's hair, tugging her mouth harder against her own. Carmilla couldn't hold in the moan at the action; the pleasure was too much, too good. Laura sighed into her mouth in response.

Carmilla tried to contain her sheer need to feel Laura, but she couldn't keep her hands from wandering. Laura whimpered against her, her fingers roughly combing through Carmilla's dark tangles. Carmilla's teeth sank into Laura's lower lip, tugging it out slightly before releasing it and soothing it with her soft tongue. Carmilla felt her entire front flush with Laura's; hips to hips, chest to chest. Laura's mouth let out a high whine, followed by her hips bucking against Carmilla's.

Carmilla's hands slid down, pulling Laura tighter against her. She eagerly guided Laura's hips as they ground against her thigh and Carmilla could feel the hot pressure of tears spike at the corners of her eyes. Laura, Laura, Laura. It was all Carmilla could think, it was all Carmilla could feel. How had she gone so long without kissing her, without touching her? She was never going to be able to stop.

Laura's mouth pulled away and slid down Carmilla's throat, sucking and licking until Carmilla's hips were rutting against Laura like a teenager.

"Laura…" She breathed against her hair.

"Carm…" Laura's voice was husky and low. Carmilla couldn't breath. She couldn't think. Laura's hands were under her shirt, slipping up her back, pulling her closer. Carmilla pressed harder into Laura, wanting to be enveloped by her. Laura's mouth worked along her neck, finding all the hidden spots that made Carmilla's veins melt.

"God, Laura…I am so in love with you." Carmilla managed, as Laura's teeth scraped against her pulse point.

Laura's hands stilled but stayed against her skin. If anything, they tightened their hold. She pulled her head back, eyes finding Carmilla's; hope and fear and disbelief painted across her irises.

"Did you…did you mean that?" Laura whispered in the space between their lips.

Carmilla's brow furrowed. Did she mean it? Oh god, she'd never meant anything more in her entire life. Carmilla mentally slapped herself for even making Laura wonder. How could Laura wonder?

Carmilla rested her forehead against Laura's. "I love you." She breathed, the words falling out of her like she was unable to stop them. "I loved you right from the start."

Laura's eyes lit up, her million watt smile blazing across her face. She leaned up slightly, brushing her nose against Carmilla's, and brought their mouths back together.

At their lips touch, Carmilla felt her body thrum. She had been in love, once, or so she thought. But what she felt for Laura, what she felt as she kissed and held and breathed Laura, was something else entirely. Laura licked into her mouth, her tongue hot and sweet against her own, and Carmilla could feel the familiar sting of tears in the corners of her eyes. Her hands slid into Laura's hair, threading through the fine strands, and she moaned as Laura's nails pressed half moons down her spine.

She couldn't be this lucky. She didn't deserve to be this lucky. Laura's teeth sank into her lower lip. Carmilla felt a whine bloom in the back of her throat. God, she wanted everything with Laura. She was in her arms and it wasn't enough. She felt like her ribs were cracking open and then only thing that could heal the rupture was Laura's hands.

Laura's mouth left hers, her hands pushing against Carmilla's shoulders.

"Carm…"

Carmilla froze, terrified. Had she ruined everything so quickly? A shiver ran through her body and at the movement, Laura drew her impossibly closer.

"As much as I'd like to continue this, um, thing we're doing…uh, maybe not against your front door?"

Relief flooded Carmilla's veins. She dropped her head to Laura's shoulder and let out a soft laugh. Laura slid out of her arms and instantly Carmilla's body ached at the loss. Laura tugged the hem of Carmilla's t-shirt pulling her toward the bedroom.

"Bed, Carm." She said, walking backward, tugging Carmilla along.

And, as Carmilla always would, she did as Laura asked.