#vampireinthemachine

" A growl, a roar, and Perry’s body is taken by something huge, black, fell. There’s something about it that terrifies her, draws her to it. Her mind is a mess of fear and curiosity, want and revulsion as she watches the creature drop Perry’s body outside of the crater, watches it return to stand before the gates. " Hi. Hello. Blame Red for this.

They have a lot to talk about, things that need to be worked through. There's so much to be done that will be but, at that moment, she doesn't care. All that matters is that Carmilla is kissing her and they're laughing as they fall back onto the bed. In that moment, everything is as she wants to be. It's not perfect, but it's what she wants and she's more than willing to live with it. END. (Sorry I couldn't find a place for the smut!)

Kissing her feels like coming home, the word finally resonating in her mind. She wants to press herself closer but she's scared, doesn't want this dream to end. Only, it's not a dream and Carmilla's pulling her closer as her lips part for Carmilla's tongue. She wants and wants and wants and finally, she's getting what she needs.

When the door opens, she groans, thinking it's Perry. Only, when the scent of the forest and smoke surrounds her, she realises that it's not. Carmilla's hand is pulling the covers away and she's looking at her with a frown. No words are exchanged, nothing passes between them, and yet everything does. It's weird, the way she's still so drawn to her, and she doesn't fight it when she finds herself rising up to meet Carmilla.

Perry is the first one to find her but she doesn't listen. She doesn't even move when LaFontaine and Danny try to lure her out, the promise of cocoa and cookies on their tongues dying when she doesn't acknowledge them. All she wants is to be allowed to mourn the loss of her relationship with Carmilla in peace now that the school isn't burning to the ground.

She's afraid, afraid that if she sleeps, Carmilla will be gone in the morning. She's afraid of losing her, of having all of this slip through her fingers again. Then Carmilla starts humming. It's a familiar tune she remembers from nights spent in a heavenly bed, the two of them wrapped up in each other as she struggled to sleep, the weight of everything she's done pushing her ever downward. "Rest, Cupcake."

Carmilla's hands are hesitant when she responds to this, almost as if she's not sure what to do. Laura knows that she's still not forgiven for what she's done, that their mutual desire doesn't make her betrayal any less painful, but she's learnt to be selfish again, learnt to value what little she can get from Carmilla. She's determined to hold onto her for as long as she can, even if it means little in the end.

Laura turns into her when Carmilla obliges, hand slipping in between her robe to feel the skin beneath. There's always been a faint warmth there, something beneath the surface that gave testament to the faint heartbeat Carmilla still had. She relished in that warmth, sinking into the familiarity of it.