women of the wilds

“When you break your neck, is it just like- Crack, you’re instantly dead?”

“But god, this thing is ghastly!”

“This, I found yesterday… in the dump.”

“I assume you got my letter.”

“Say something, anything!”

“I almost screamed, ‘that’s bullshit!’”

“This is one of those times you need to do what I say.”

“I want to know what’s true.”

“Look, you’ve messed this up already.”

“I’d really love some sort of response.”

“Don’t let go yet.”

“IN a bookstore!? Nice!”

“Say something, talk to me!”

“Not too bad, if I say so myself.”

“Watch it, that’s a first edition!”

“I’m trying to tell you something, and I’m having a hard time…”

“Unbutton your shirt.”

“Was it because of me?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Thank you for not laughing….well, you laughed a little bit…”

“Who’s this in the photo?”

“What are you doing? I said, come here.”

“I’m remembering something, that’s all.”

“What happened last night?”

“Okay, higher. Just a little.”

      ❝ No need to apologize. That stain’s not going anywhere. And I’m always happy to help. ❞

She led Claudia to her bathroom and started the water, running her hand under to make sure the temperature was just right. 

Claudia was stripped down to her old band tank (the mowgli’s) and boxer briefs before the redhead was even finished with her proposition; blue flannel and ripped jeans dropped into Perry’s hands. Walking sorority stereotypes, the Summer girls were not, but the Lodge had always been lax about lack of clothes.

Sleep came quick, drifting off as soon as the back of her bed hit the pillow, waking only when the sound of food hit her nostrils. 

A groan, a moan and the guitarist is stretching where she lay.

            “Your bed is like laying on a cloud.” 

The brunette glances around, eyes drifting to the nightstand as she sees the mountain pile of french toast on a tray. Her mouth waters and a gentle moan slips from her lips.

The brunette’s noises started off as a surprise to her. Moans, whines, soft groans. All because of food; The food at the diner at first, but even more-so the stuff she had cooked for her. The cupcakes from last night, and now breakfast.

Her head tilts giving slight pause as she stares at the  other girl. Said blonde in question with an accent that reminds her of home. She smirks, one hand slinking into leather pant  pockets as the other runs through loose curls.

Her head only tilts more as the blonde steps forward. The  backstage doesn’t do anyone wonders, yet Carmilla can’t find herself prying her eyes away anytime soon.

She wants to just turn tail and get the hell out of there. She’s caused enough trouble for the night. But Gianna’s there, nudging at her back and waggling her brows in an entirely infuriating way. Oh, what the hell.

“Yeah. Ah....sure. I’d like that, I’m...” But the crowd is already roaring away by the time her sentence gets towards the end, and her voice only feels like it’s getting quieter.

“She’s Claudia, I’m Gianna. And we’d love to, bella.” Gianna chimes over as the guitarist is looking back to the stage. Claudia is bright red. She doesn’t understand why, she feels completely idiotic. But all she can manage when she meets the girl’s eyes again is a small, grateful smile.