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Carmilla clicked the next horror movie in the Netflix queue, sighing as she flopped back against the couch cushions. As the opening credits rolled, familiar music from the old film echoing around the dark apartment, she glanced at the over-sized clock Laura had hung above the television.
11:24.
It was nearly thirty minutes until the new year and Carmilla was alone.
She ground her teeth, crossing her arms over her chest.
Laura had been shipped off to cover yet another news story – something about a new medicinal use for wolfsbane – and she was almost four thousand miles away in some little village in Norway. Carmilla had asked to accompany her, nearly begged, but Laura had recently gotten in trouble for the last time Carmilla had tagged along on one of her investigations.
And, while Carmilla was annoyed to be kept from going with Laura this time around, she did not regret giving new meaning to the Moaning Cavern of Vallecito, California.
The memory of it made Carmilla’s chest ache uncomfortably and she slunk down further into the couch cushions as she sulked.
This was supposed to be their year.
After everything.
After Elle.
After the almost-immortal-vampire-again-but-thankfully-not hell they had gone through.
They were supposed to be celebrating together, just the two of them; snuggled in their apartment, watching old movies, and eventually finding a surface they hadn’t yet christened to break in as the new year rang around them.
Instead, Carmilla was alone.
Laura was unreachable.
And her human heart thudded painfully, longingly, in her chest.
Carmilla groaned, flopping horizontal on the couch. She blindly scrabbled around with her right hand until she found the cell phone Laura had insisted she have and pulled it close to her face.
Everything is stupid without you around. I hate you.
Carmilla sent the text off without thinking, her annoyance and neediness creating a fog around her pride.
A buzz sounded against her hand and she clicked open Laura’s reply.
you don’t mean that
you meant to say you miss me and you love me
Carmilla could feel her cheeks warming just from the message, Laura’s voice so clearly reading it in her head. She growled, clicking the call button and wedged the phone against her ear.
After a few slow rings, Laura’s sleepy voice came through the speaker.
“Miss me?”
“Shut up,” Carmilla mumbled, pressing her face into the couch cushions. “You did this. You made me this way, you don’t get to hold it over my head.”
Laura hummed into the phone, a warm, pleased, sound.
“Oh, yes, I do,” she said. “I get to gloat about making the centuries old vampire homesick.”
Carmilla scoffed.
“I’m not homesick. I’m personsick. I’m sick for you.”
There was a pause, a moment when Carmilla realized what she had said, but it was too late.
“Carm, you are so-”
“Don’t say it-”
“You are so sweet.”
Carmilla rolled her eyes, pressing her face into the couch. When she spoke again, it was muffled and low.
“I’m not going to be sweet for much longer if you keep leaving me.”
Laura laughed on the other end of the line, light and soft and familiar.
“I’m working Carm, I didn’t exactly leave you.”
Carmilla scoffed.
“I’m alone. You left. It’s New Years Eve and we aren’t together. Feels like leaving to me.”
There was a hum from Laura, a long note that seemed pitying, and Carmilla could feel blush working its way up her neck. Stupid human skin.
“But whatever, enjoy Norway. I’ll just have to make my own fun without you.”
Carmilla wasn’t proud of her tone, it was lewd and implicating and she knew Laura wouldn’t miss it. She wasn’t looking to start an argument, she had really just wanted to hear Laura’s voice, but she was feeling lonely and vulnerable and she let the words hang in the air.
“Well,” Laura’s voice was clipped and Carmilla knew she had made an error, “maybe some of your old study buddies live in Toronto. New year and all, you should start it how you want to live the rest of it.”
Carmilla opened her mouth to counter her, to tell Laura she couldn’t even remember the names of her Silas conquests, to say that she just missed Laura, but instead her voice spit out:
“Thanks for the permission.”
Carmilla could feel the tension on the line, hear it in the long sigh Laura let out. Regret instantly flooded her veins.
“Laura, I-”
“Is this why you called, to make me feel bad?”
Carmilla bristled at the passive aggression, but knew she herself was guilty of far worse. She groaned into the phone.
“We almost lost everything last year. Is it wrong I want to be near you when the new year starts?”
Carmilla’s voice was small, tired, and she begrudged the tears that worked their way into the corner of her eyes. She’d never been this emotional as a vampire. Even when she had her “spark” heart, she hadn’t truly been this affected. Being fully human made her weak, made her feel more. And she couldn’t help but feel everything when it came to Laura.
Laura took a breath on the other end of the line and then let out a low, disbelieving chuckle.
“You always make things so difficult, you know?”
Carmilla opened her mouth to retort, to point out that Laura was the one thousands of miles away, when the front door opened.
“Happy new year, you useless idiot.”
Carmilla jolted up from the couch, Laura dropping her phone and her bags to the floor as she stood in the doorway.
For a moment, Carmilla was frozen on the cushions, just staring at what she knew couldn’t be real. Laura was in their doorway, windswept from the Toronto cold and face rosy from the chill. She was supposed to be in Norway, supposed to be so far away, and Carmilla’s human heart clanged uncomfortably in her chest at the idea of her so close, so suddenly.
“You’re here.”
Laura gave her a small smile, tired and warm, as she shrugged.
“I...” Carmilla shook her head, a ghost of a laugh slipping out of her, and then she had Laura in her arms.
“You aren’t supposed to be back until the fifth.”
Laura shrugged again, nuzzling into Carmilla neck.
“You said it yourself, we almost lost everything. I wanted to be with you.”
Carmilla let her body sag against Laura, her emotions becoming too much for her to handle.
This kept happening.
“Side affect from full humanity,” Laf had said.
Carmilla wasn’t sure. She knew she loved Laura as a vampire, loved her with everything she had in her, but to have a fully human heart to feel it; every now and then, when she was overwhelmed, it just blindsided her.
“Sorry,” Carmilla murmured, voice low. “I shouldn’t have been so...me on the phone.”
Laura pulled back, her hands moving up to cup the sides of Carmilla’s face.
“I probably shouldn’t have tried to surprise you. I know you don’t really enjoy surprises.”
Carmilla shook her head, letting the smile she only had for Laura over take her face. She leaned in, their foreheads coming to rest together.
“I always like surprises if they’re you.”
Laura grinned.
“You are so-”
“Please don’t say-”
“Sweet,” Laura laughed before kissing Carmilla softly on the mouth.
Carmilla pulled Laura into the apartment fully, never separating from her. She slammed the door behind them and then moved to press Laura back against it. Laura chuckled into her mouth, her tired hands wandering up Carmilla’s sides and sliding underneath her sweatshirt.
“Is this mine?” Laura asked, breathless, as she tugged on the hem of the worn blue sweatshirt Carmilla wore.
Carmilla shrugged, her hands slipping around Laura’s waist to slide down into the back pockets of her jeans.
“You weren’t here,” she provided.
Laura shook her head, pressing closer.
“I’m here now,” she whispered, lips ghosting across Carmilla’s cheek, moving along her jaw.
Carmilla’s whole body warmed, her pulse quickening in her throat.
“You are...” she murmured, slowly tugging Laura further into the room. She pulled back just far enough to peel Laura’s worn winter coat off, unwinding the thick scarf from around her neck. The pair stumbled back toward the couch, the low sounds of the movie Carmilla had been watching still rumbling from the TV speakers.
Carmilla managed to navigate them back to the couch, falling unceremoniously onto it. Laura remained standing, looking down at her as she reached for the hem of her sweater – purple, covered in green reindeer, garish to Carmilla's eye but clearly not Laura's – and tugged it over her head. Her hair tumbled around her as she toss the sweater away and, for a moment, Carmilla was sure her chest was going to explode.
The flickering light from the still running movie silhouetted Laura in a skin tight tank top, her hair golden and full of gentle static, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths from just the few kisses they had shared as they stumbled across the room; Carmilla had never been so in love.
“Get down here,” she managed, her hand reaching out to find Laura’s.
Laura smiled and lowered herself onto Carmilla, draping her body across hers like a second skin. For a moment, Laura just let her weight rest on Carmilla’s chest, her head dropping to the crook of Carmilla’s neck.
Carmilla wrapped her arms around Laura’s cool shoulders, pulling her tight against her.
The warmth from her body, her hot blooded human body, slowly warmed Laura’s skin and Carmilla’s heart kicked funnily in her chest. As Laura moved, her head lifting from resting against Carmilla’s throat, the over-sized clock above the TV chimed softly.
Midnight.
A new year.
And they were together.
Laura’s hair curtained around them as she grinned down at Carmilla, her eyes tired but her smile soft and true.
“Happy new year, Carm.”
Carmilla’s pulse thumped warm in her ears as she leaned up to brush her mouth against Laura’s. It was familiar, comforting, a taste of the year to come. Carmilla let herself indulge in another, deeper kiss before pulling back to bump her nose against Laura’s.
“Happy new year, cutie.”