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Oh look. She was smiling.
Weeks of cohabitation, and she had never seen her grin like this. Not with the girls she had brought over. Not with the sudden flirting, which made an awful amount of sense now.
Her dark eyes gleamed, little dusky oceans. Zeroed in and flat like a shark's. The dimples that may have been an adorable additive to a stunning simper. The fangs that were very present now twisting it into a bare of teeth.
Laura could barely hear what Will was saying. The pain in her bent arm was bad enough without him smirking at her ear.
That smile left. She rose, and despite the corset and leather pants, she squared her shoulders and there was a flex of muscle through her lean body.
There wasn't anything assuring about it. She looked more pissed off that someone came along and stole her entree.
Now she doesn't know who she's supposed to be more afraid of--
Will was leaning into her back. His hot breath struck her neck. He was going to bite her. She was going to be found laying on the floor of her dorm like crumpled go-gurt wrapper. Her father was going to learn that he had been absolutely right about her leaving home for college.
It was happening in slow motion.
Carmilla's hips were turning. Her hand shot out like a cottonmouth striking, her fangs now definitely baring in a snarl.
Her fist rushed past her cheek so close it nearly brushed. The crack of its connection was so forceful that when Will collapsed backwards, she practically catapulted forward onto her room mate's bed.
She whirled, watching Will rise. He was visibly shaken, looking much more like the boy she had believed him to be than anything like Karnstein.
Carmilla braced herself between them.
And he was retreating. He looked pissed but he was backing off, an air of uncertainty beneath his cocky exit.
“See you around, Kitty.”
It was a stupid thing for her brain to catch. She supposed it was the shock, but she found the handle suiting in a way.
Oh boy. Here comes the word vomit. It was a nervous tick based on being raised in a house where you explained exactly how you felt.
Really though, what other response were you supposed to have when your hostage vampire room mate saved you instead of watching you die in revenge.
“Thank you for not letting him eat me,” she said.
Carmilla turned to her, but she couldn't look her in the eye. “It was especially nice after--”
The dark haired girl moved towards her. Things were still going so fast they were in slow motion. Her hands braced either side of her face, and as she leaned in, Laura realized she was going to kiss her.
Her mouth opened but nothing came out. Her heart stuttered, her brain zipping out with one last epiphany.
She's going to kiss me.
Maybe it was the stupor from being saved. Hero worship.
But...she wanted her to.
Wait. Carmilla's face was gliding past hers. Much like the thrown shot, Karnstein's skin ghosted hers, and Laura's eyes fluttered close at the the skim of warm, soft skin. Her soft curls. She smelled great for being tied to a chair. A little garlicky--
A sudden wave of strength came. Carmilla's body pressed flush against hers and she was firmly pinned back against the bed with a startled cry.
She should move. She should knee her or headbutt her or something.
But she was laying completely on top of her, hips between her legs, the supple push of her chest meeting hers. Laura inhaled sharply. The light switch of emotions flickering all across her neurons had to be confusing her brain. There was no other reason why she should feel an ounce of what she was.
The teeth sank in without any other warning. There was no mistaking what they were.
They pierced the side of her neck like a hard pinch and slid down through the muscle to meet her throbbing jugular.
She gasped. There was pain. There was obvious terror, though she noted that the 'obvious' was very telling of how desensitized she was becoming to the weird.
There were lips moving against her skin. It wasn't quite a kiss or some extreme hickey. It was something in between.
And then she was off, wiping the blood off her lips like it was just a smear too much of lipstick.
The blood. Her blood.
She took off out the door in a flash.
Laura laid there for a minute. Her neck hurt. It felt like it was bleeding a little. She had donated blood before. Dad had her blood tested any time she had been bitten by mosquitoes or drank out of public water fountains. The light headed, all over body wooziness was familiar.
Again, her initial responses were frighteningly calm. She felt more annoyed than anything. You can't just take someone's blood without permission. Or put your mouth on their neck. Or lay on top of them.
Or make you want them to.
She could almost still feel her there.
She touched the punctures tenderly, wincing.
Her heart fluttered.
That night felt like forever ago.
So many things had happened since then. Trying to think of anything now sort of felt like she was cramming her brain into a meat grinder, so she cut it down to basic functions.
She didn't try to weigh pros or cons. She didn't need to begin the quagmire that would be anyone else's thoughts on the matter.
Firstly, she had two vampires in the house under a flimsy oral agreement that their reign of terror would stop.
Secondly, one was in and out of the room. Mattie's worry flickered to anger to restraint back to worry again. She paced restlessly, ignoring offers of blood bags and snarling at LaF and Perry and trying to convince JP that he should join the actual dark side.
Because they were nocturnal, not just their penchant to black clothing and questionable ethics.
Every time she left, Laura was more sure of what had to be done.
Because lastly (and certainly not least), the other was still laying on the couch with a makeshift IV drip. It was almost like old times as it was; her space was trashed and she was sprawled out, completely dead to the world around her.
Only she was paler than usual. Her hair was plastered to her skin with a shine of cold sweat. Every now and then she trembled, like she was having a bad dream.
And she hoped she wasn't actually dead to the world around her.
It was midnight, and she was exhausted. Mattie hadn't returned in over an hour, and she was beginning to suspect everyone was asleep.
She nearly went to bed herself. With Karnstein on the couch, she'd probably lay on the chaise. She didn't need to put herself in that bed (our bed no gross her mother's bed ). Or that room (the way she pressed her back against the door to kiss her. Tangling together on the floor).
If it was chickening out, she could easily argue that--
Carmilla groaned.
It was a tight, pained breath.
Basic functions.
If Vordenberg or his huntsmen came around and didn't take her word. If some other nasty thing reared its head.
She wasn't supposed to care. She wasn't supposed to feel drawn.
She walked over slowly, minding the clothes and red crusted solo cups and hoping that her keen senses were too dull to detect her thumping pulse.
She stood over her. Her heart sank at the damage up close. But her guts steeled.
She knelt down, trying to ignore the ruddy gauze. She reached over, touching the shoulder farthest from it.
“Carm.” Then, correcting herself, “Carmilla.”
The vampire's brow dipped. Her eyelids looked bruised. They fluttered, the eyes beneath them moving somewhere else. Her expression fell lax again.
“I can't trust Mattie's patience,” Laura said.
Her gaze wandered back down to the bandages. She recalled the hole torn there. The blood seeping out.
“You need living blood. You drank out of blood bags all day and night when we kidnapped you and you still needed to feed to hunt Will. And I'm not letting you break our deal either,” Laura hissed, trying to keep her voice down. “Summer Society and Zetas are swarming anyway. You're not strong enough to fight back, much less go...hunting.”
Her fingers found Carmilla's upper arm. It was cold.
Karnstein's lips parted at her touch.
Laura felt her gaze soften. It was more like a crumble. This needed to be more cut and dry.
“And.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. Her hand splayed further on the vampire's bicep. The words were there, crouching on the tip of her tongue.
“If I'm being brutally honest. It's...hard seeing you like this.”
Other words came. The type she had been stuffing into some inner box under a lock and key. They threatened to pour out just as swiftly.
She swallowed them instead, a flit of nerves breaking out in her stomach. She leaned in over the vampire and swept her hair back across one shoulder.
She craned her neck over Carmilla's face, trying very hard not to think about the last time they were this close (Laura, she groaned, burying her mouth into her neck, her bare skin so soft and hot under hers).
Her hand slipped under the vampire's head before she could stop it, raising her lips to her throat. Her eyes shut at the breath weakly ghosting across her skin (Carm clenching her jaw in the crook of her shoulder and neck as she tumbled over the edge, her teeth baring there in restraint).
She had to shove a noise back down when instead of sharp, hard fangs, she felt a ginger stroke of lips (whenever she crept up behind her, she would kiss her neck like that, and Laura would jump and she would chuckle). She almost thought it didn't happen when she felt it again.
“Carm,” she whispered. Her hand slid to the side of the vampire's tepid jaw. “It's okay. I want you to. I need you to. I...”
It's then that the teeth prick her skin.
She braced herself then forced her body to relax. It would only hurt more if she tensed.
They were starting to push now. She winced, the slow dig making the skin of her back jump. Last time had been fast like a shot. This time it was a steady sink.
They were in.
She suckled weakly at first, as if she couldn't quite get a good hold on it.
But then she swallowed, and her mouth moved.
It was a hungry drink. Needful.
Her breathing deepened through her nose as Laura's tightened. Her hand gripped Carmilla's hair, her exhale skipping over the ache.
A sense of intimacy wrapped around any pain, dulling it.
It was probably morbid and bittersweet and, again, a huge screaming indication of how accustomed she had become to all of this whimsical darkness.
But they were connected again. Sharing with another, a give and take between them alone.
It wasn't arousal or love, but something in between. Something almost like inhaling an exhale. Like holding her tight to comfort her. Like listening to rain pelt the roof while curled up in her arms and under her chin, half awake and half asleep. Something--
Her teeth slid out without warning, but her lips remained, her tongue lapping the blood chasing out after them.
And then she was panting, a heat beginning to glow under her skin.
Laura pulled back just enough to see her dark eyes appear half lidded, her mouth lined with red. The stupor was fading, her brow furrowing in slow realization.
“Laura...?” she murmured, voice hoarse and distant.
The younger girl's hand left the dark hair, moving up to cover her neck. She had to say something. Anything. If she didn't, she would close the few inches between them. She would chase that closeness, already missing it fiercely. She would kiss her and taste her own blood on those lips.
“Am I dead yet,” Karnstein croaked.
Mood killer. Perfect.
“If you were, you'd be in the other place,” breathed Hollis, an unwanted smile sketching itself across her face. Oh boy. Woozy city.
“Wow this sort of takes a lot out of a girl,” she muttered, falling back besides the vampire in a sit.
“...You shouldn't have done this,” Carmilla said softly.
Laura blinked, shaking her head. Well, at least being lightheaded stopped her from feeling a whole lot. There was a lot to feel.
LaF had left some of her medical things. There was a box of bandages. She applied one on her neck, tenderly moving her hair back over it.
“Why.”
She looked up. Carm's head was turned her way. She couldn't read her expression. Pained? Confused?
Longing...?
“I,” she started. She fell short, reaching over with a tissue. She wiped the blood away from the older girl's lip softly. “Did what had to be done.”
The vampire's hand rose. Laura stopped, but she didn't move. Fingers wrapped around her wrist, and she let them pull her closer.
The space between faded, their noses brushing.
“Thank you,” Carm murmured, and Laura's head tilted, her eyes sweeping close.
There were footsteps coming downstairs.
She nearly slapped herself in the face, tumbling backwards and pouncing back onto the chair in front of her lap top.
She stole one last glance before Mattie appeared, relief pouring off the woman in waves.
Carmilla shot her one more smile when the older vampire checked her gauze. The crooked sort she had given her whenever their eyes had met across a room or through a throng of people. Knowing and vague, a crescent moon on a warm summer night.
It didn't help with the dizziness. Her heart fluttered.