Chapter 3
“Is this okay? Laura nodded her head incredibly slow as Carmilla rubbed circles across her cheekbones with the pad of her thumb. She was hovering over Laura who had backed up against the arm of the couch as Carmilla crawled toward her, eyes consciously smiling with seduction. She liked seeing the blush rise in Laura’s cheeks, the swallow get stuck in her throat and the pupils dilate in anticipation.
She was supporting herself with one hand that was sinking lower and lower into the cushion with the weight of her body. She did not want her entire body crushing Laura - not yet at least. Laura’s eyes were flickering between her eyes and her lips and the girl’s tongue inadvertently flicked out, wetting the lips that Carmilla found her eyes drawn to; a daily reoccurrence that either ended with Laura giving in and kissing her or Laura giving her a warning look that said, ‘Cut it out.’ Either way, it always resulted in Carmilla smiling, a gross, disgusting, happy smile that she refused to get used to. She hid from the contagious cheerfulness not because she was afraid; she had already let her walls down for Laura and that girl had waltzed in as soon as the door had been cracked. Being happy still did not feel normal to her and even though Laura made her feel like she deserved every atom of the love she was given and Carmilla believed her, she seemed off when there was not something bothering her. She did a mental eye roll because she knew how screwed up that was but she was well aware that her past would always haunt her and getting rid of these feelings seemed impossible. Like this moment for instance, when everything was calm and clear, her mind had to go and ruin her contentedness.
As if coming out of a daze, Laura’s face came back into focus and Carmilla felt two hands caressing her face. Laura’s eyes were searching; her eyebrows expressing sad concern and causing a small, soft smile to appear on Carmilla’s lips. “Don’t do that. You don’t have to smile for me.”
“Of course I’m doing it for you,” Carmilla replied easily, stroking her hand through the soft caramel hair, “But there’s no one else I’d rather smile for.”
She watched a faint blush creep up Laura’s cheeks but it was followed by a lip bite that caused Carmilla’s sharp intake of air. Laura’s lip slowly escaped from her teeth and Carmilla wanted so much to press every inch of her skin against Laura but she needed to check one last time to know that Laura wanted this too.
Something must have shown in her eyes because Laura shook her head in exasperation while giggling and pulled Carmilla’s face towards her own, softly connecting their lips. Laura’s lips were as soft as always and moving slowly, drawing in every bit of Carmilla’s focus that they could, her mind fuzzing over. For someone who was usually ready to rip off clothes and get down to business, this was the first time Carmilla had ever wanted to move slowly and she found it to be much more exciting than she had previously credited it with. Apparently she was being too cautious and her lips turned into a pout because Laura pulled away, giggling, “You can touch me, you know?”
Carmilla had not taken into account that her hands were still firmly pressing into the cushions.
“As you wish,” she returned, trying to conceal her own desire to touch Laura’s skin. Her left hand kept holding her up but her right hand moved to rest upon Laura’s hip, under the shirt and right above her pants. It was warm and Laura was smiling at Carmilla as if nothing else in the world was more perfect and not being able to stomach that look anymore, she dipped her head, sucking on Laura’s jaw and drawing a pleased breath out of the girl before creating a wet trail with her tongue along Laura’s jaw toward her neck. She lightly nipped at the skin before sucking on it hard enough to draw blood to the surface where it would stay; a mark telling the world that Carmilla had been there.
She continued in a line down Laura’s collarbone, leaving mark after mark on the skin, which after a shudder from Laura as if a chill had gone through her, was layered with goosebumps. Carmilla’s hand had slowly moved, lifting the shirt higher until her hand settled on the side of Laura’s ribcage. She could feel Laura’s knees holding onto her hips but her hands, which had been removed from Carmilla’s face, returned to her cheeks to pull their lips together. It was Laura who pulled back for a second time and a million worried thoughts passed through Carmilla’s mind of what she had done wrong. Laura grimaced, “I’m really sorry to ruin the moment, but this couch is not the most comfortable…”
“Say no more,” Carmilla interrupted, sliding her hands under Laura’s butt and pulling her into a sitting position on top of Carmilla’s own knees. Laura giggled again and Carmilla wondered if she would ever tire of that sound. Laura seemed to get the message and her legs wrapped around Carmilla’s torso. It was awkward at first and Carmilla doubted her own strength but with a grunt, she had obtained a secure grip on her girlfriend and lifted them both up from the couch. Laura flung her arms around Carmilla’s neck to make sure she didn’t fall as Carmilla waddled their way to the bedroom.
“I thought that would have been more romantic than it was,” Carmilla confessed. The lifting of the bride through the doorway was always much more manageable and easy on screen than it was in real life. Her previous experience had consisted of pushing girls up against walls, not carrying them from room to room to lie them down nicely on a bed.
“It was entirely too romantic.”
“Well, here’s the best part,” Carmilla smirked and Laura let out a delighted shriek as Carmilla dropped onto the bed, the mattress bouncing with the weight of their bodies. Carmilla smiled into Laura’s hair as laughter rippled through the small body. “Like I said, extremely romantic.”
Carmilla sat up on her knees and found herself straddling Laura’s waist. She reached down to the bottom of her shirt to pull it up over her head but hands alighted on top of hers, “Wait.”
She paused what she was doing only to see Laura once again biting her lip. God, this girl is going to be the death of me. Laura sat up, her hands taking hold of Carmilla’s shirt and slowly lifting it up. The movement stopped when her entire stomach was visible and her skin prickled under the kisses that Laura was peppering across her bare skin. Her lips tugged at the skin, leaving red splotches on various parts of Carmilla’s stomach, “You aren’t the only one who can leave her mark.”
Carmilla’s eyes widened at Laura’s lowered voice. It was laced with desire but more so with possessiveness that Carmilla had never seen in her before. She had said, “You’re mine,” without so much as speaking those words and Carmilla struggled to keep ahold of herself after that. She was Laura’s and that was it. It was simple really. She had given her heart and her mind and her soul over to this tiny, whirlwind of love and beauty and intelligence with whom she imagined her future with. But to hear Laura say it made it valid. It made it possible. And it was more of an aphrodisiac than Carmilla had expected.
Laura’s hands were sliding her shirt up and pulling it over her head as she just stared at Carmilla’s chest in awe as if it was the first time she had ever seen a girl without a shirt on. Carmilla had to chuckle because Laura’s eyes were wide and her mouth was slack and she was just staring; it was too adorable for anyone’s own good. “Are you just going to look all day? Or are you going to touch?”
Laura nodded before she started speaking, “Oh, I am going to touch.”
Laura’s lips were far too irresistible for Carmilla to wait any longer and she grabbed the girl’s face, breaking Laura’s focus and bringing their lips together.
“Not fair,” Laura mumbled against her lips, hot breath flooding her mouth.
“You took too long, sweetheart.” But the words were mostly a lie because Carmilla would let Laura take all of the time in the world. The cliché of first times was very relevant even though it did not stand true for either of them; it was their first time together. Carmilla had put so much pressure on this. She had waited, not wanting to rush things, wanting to make sure Laura was ready, wanting to make sure she was ready to not be a total fuck up. It was not conscious pressure but heaviness that built up of its own accord over time.
“Hey, Carm?
Shit. She had been in her head too long. “Yes, cupcake?”
“I know you’re thinking too hard about something. You’re lips stopped moving.”
“Nothing to worry about.” She had not noticed Laura’s lips detach from her own but she saw the girl lean back. She was giving Carmilla a smile that pretty much said, “bullshit.” Carmilla hung her head, “I’m fucking nervous, Laura.”
It was like her chest had opened up and fresh air was filling her lungs with the revelation that she had been too scared of or too proud to admit. Instead of being surprised or confused or adamant that she was more nervous, Laura kissed her and whispered, “Me too.”
It was a declaration of solidarity and the vulnerability Carmilla was worried about was now spread out before her mixed with Laura’s own fears and insecurities. “Are you going to stay out of your head? Because it’s a lot easier to kiss you when you’re kissing me back.”
An easy smile spread across Carmilla’s face because of course she would. She tugged Laura’s lower lip between her own and sucked on it, drawing a very quiet sound out of Laura that could not be classified as a groan or a moan or any such thing but more of an audible sigh of contentment. Whatever it was, Carmilla knew she wanted to hear it again. She felt hands slide across her stomach and around her back before, with a single flick of Laura’s fingers, her bra came unclasped, “Well, well, well.”
“It’s my specialty,” Laura barely got out before she had pressed her lips against Carmilla’s yet again. There was a heat spreading across Carmilla’s body as Laura’s tongue parted her lips and found it’s way into Carmilla’s mouth, bringing in more heat with it. Carmilla shrugged out of one of her many lace, black bras and threw it to the side. Her fingers fumbled with the catch on Laura’s; it was difficult because kissing Laura made her mind all hazy but it was so intoxicating that she had no desire to stop even for a brief second. Laura’s fingers found hers and with her help, Carmilla opened the clasp. Laura joked, “A bit difficult?”
“I have other specialties,” Carmilla growled as she ripped at Laura’s pants, pulling them over the girl’s waist as Laura did her part to kick them off. Before she could continue though, Laura snapped at her and pointed to her pants. Carmilla regretfully pulled herself off the bed and stood up; it took more finesse to peel the leather from her body and with Laura’s eyes on her the entire time, she felt like a bumbling fool.
When she was free and she turned back to the bed, Laura had removed her bra, revealing breasts that seemed larger when laid bare. They hung slightly lower on Laura’s chest without the support of a bra. Carmilla’s view of them in a bra was nothing compared to her view now. There was a low rumbling in her throat, one that she could not control, and Laura’s eyes widened, “Did you just purr?”
“If you could see what I am seeing –”
“I’ve seen it a million times,” Laura said, flippantly, “it’s nothing to write home about.”
Carmilla climbed back onto the bed, her hands settling on either side of Laura’s waist, “First off, cupcake, we will be discussing that statement later. Second off, people at home would not have the privilege. I don’t want to share.”
Carmilla found Laura’s lips hungrily, moving faster than before, less cautious, more confident, more like how she was used to feeling. Her hand slid across the hard muscles of Laura’s stomach, still a enigma due to the cookie monster of a human that Laura was, and slid beneath the fabric of Laura’s underwear, causing Laura’s breath to get caught in her throat and smile to spread across Carmilla’s face. She could feel the small amount of wetness that had built up and work her fingers up and down to create more, Laura biting at her lips the entire time.
“Are you ready? ‘Cause I’m pretty ready,” Laura questioned breathlessly.
“I’m just taking my time -”
“And that’s nice and all it really is. I appreciate it, but if you could just –”
Carmilla rolled her eyes, “Yes, cupcake.”
Carmilla disengaged her hand and wiggled her body down lower to pull down Laura’s underwear, exposing her for Carmilla to see for the first time. But with Laura’s suggestion or rather demand, she did not take too much time to ogle and explore and instead watched as she worked. She slid one finger up and down the fold of skin, which was much more slick than before. And soon after she nudged the tips of two fingers at Laura’s entrance, causing a sudden clench in muscle as if unexpected, she slowly and deliberately maneuvered her way in. Her fingers were enveloped by the close walls and a magnificent heat. Instead of pulling her fingers in and out, she instead kept her knuckles close to Laura’s body and curled her fingers. Curl, straighten, curl, straighten. Over and over again.
It started out as little whimpers before Laura’s hands found their way to tangle in Carmilla’s hair and push her head downwards. It was not forceful, just a way to signal what Laura wanted and Carmilla chuckled but obliged. She tongued the skin above where her fingers were and dragged upwards, flicking at Laura’s clit with her tongue when she reached it. She attached her lips and interchangeably sucked and rolled her tongue around the nerves causing Laura to shudder. The whimpers turned into breathy moans and her body began to squirm. With it came louder sounds and if Carmilla looked up, she could just see over the rise of Laura’s stomach, which had lifted as she arched off the bed.
She twisted her fingers inside Laura looking to find whatever would cause Laura to clench onto her fingers. She almost shrieked when Carmilla found it and pushed and Laura’s fingers dug into Carmilla’s scalp. Carmilla removed her mouth from Laura’s clit when she could feel the walls around her fingers tighten and instead lapped at the wetness that had spread to Laura’s inner thigh. And soon, the tightening disappeared, her fingers slipped out of Laura easily, and Laura’s body slackened onto the bed suddenly. There was no sound coming from Laura at all and Carmilla’s forehead scrunched up, “You okay, cupcake?”
“Yeah,” was what Carmilla thought she heard but it very well could have been silence and she had made it up but then there was more, “I just need a second.”
Carmilla smiled and kissed her way up Laura’s torso until she reached her lips and kissed her, knowing that Laura would taste herself on her lips. There was no significant description of the taste except that it was in essence, Laura. And Carmilla would forever know that.
She clutched onto the sheets as she shuddered from the absence of Laura’s touch. She could still feel the ghost of Laura’s tongue as it pushed up inside of her; the feel of Laura’s hand as it slid up her stomach to play with the hardened peak on her breast; the way her thumb completed circles around her clit. It was not an easy thing to forget especially when Carmilla did not commonly give herself entirely over to her own pleasure. She always held back, not willing to be that vulnerable and the feeling of doing exactly the opposite of that, with Laura, was exquisite.
Laura lay by her side, her head nestled in Carmilla’s arm as her eyes closed. Carmilla knew she was not sleeping by the way her hand was tracing a path up and down Carmilla’s arm but they both were silent. Carmilla had nothing of importance to say; she was sure her cursing and moaning from before were enough to let Laura know how she was currently feeling.
“Are you sure you can’t come?” Laura whined, frowning as she pulled on Carmilla’s arm.
“I’m sure cupcake. Believe me, if I could pick the imbeciles over my sister and my mother, I’d go along with the gingers and the puppy every single time.” Laura smiled at that; even the insults no longer came off of Carmilla’s tongue with any spite. Which is annoying.
She kissed her little bundle of energy before walking her out the door. As soon as it shut though, she turned around slouching against and it and letting her head bang backwards against the wood. To her surprise, her mother had returned to have a faux family Thanksgiving as she had tried unsuccessfully to achieve every year. The last dinner she had with the woman resulted in her shoulder being dislocated and though Laura was not privy to that information, she had done all she could to try and persuade Carmilla to ditch her family; that could only make everything a thousand times worse when her mother came looking for her.
The dreaded phone call had come the week before and she had let it go to voicemail; she always did her best to ignore Mattie’s calls. But at the sound of her sister’s voice, anxious and out of character, she realized that Thanksgiving was not going to be spent with Laura and that she’d have to tough out yet another terrifying family reunion. Will had shared her sentiments though less maliciously and said he would meet her outside their house. “Strength in numbers, right?” he had said. Silence had permeated the answer to the question, both of them well aware that they lacked exactly that.
Carmilla pushed herself off the door and into the bedroom to find something that would be acceptable for her mother’s standards. Of course, most of the things she had at Laura’s would not do but she had to find something. Digging around only produced a few button downs and her leather pants; somehow the rest of her belongings were evading her when she needed them most. The pants would have to do as they always did but her shirts were mostly wrinkled and heaped around the room. She cursed herself, for the first time, for not hanging up her clothes. Opening the wardrobe she flipped through the shirts, mostly Laura’s mixed with a couple of band t-shirts that would only tempt her mother to lash out.
As she was running out of hope, she came upon a lavender blouse that was never something she would have thought of wearing in a million years yet seemed to be her only option. It was Laura’s and that girl would be able to pull it off, but when Carmilla imagined herself in it, she gagged. She took a deep breath, If Will says one thing, I swear to god –
Her thought cut off; she knew he would have much more on his mind than the possibility that the shirt did not belong to her. On the bottom of the wardrobe were a pair of strappy black heels that she put on in place of her combat boots. The dressier the better. She did cover up with her leather jacket, not willing to give that up; it made her feel stronger and less afraid.
She stared at the front door of the apartment for a long time. There was no escaping it and holding it off would never be a permanent solution. Well, here goes nothing.
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“Welcome to Casa la Kirsch!” Kirsch opened his arms as wide as the door when he heard the knock. Danny stepped up next to him, “You got that entire thing wrong.”
Whatever language it was, it sounded just fine to him. Laura giggled and she barreled through the doorway and hugged him. She was so tiny in his arms that he always felt like she would disappear in his hug. He looked past her through the doorway but saw no one, “Where’s your other half?”
“I told you she wasn’t coming,” Laura stated.
Danny threw her arm around Laura’s shoulder to guide her further into the house, “I don’t think anyone believed you.”
Kirsch overtook them, “Well, I definitely didn’t believe you.”
“Why would I lie about that?”
“I don’t – oh, yeah!” he bounded around them, almost knocking down a picture on the hallway wall and sliding into the island, “I bet I can fit more.”
“Nwo eu cawnt,” Lafontaine responded as they shoved another olive into their mouth. Kirsch did not waste time and scooped up a whole handful, shoving them into his mouth without any concern.
“I wish you wouldn’t,” Perry said dejectedly, frowning at the two adults who were acting more like children.
“Did you even count how many that was?” Danny inquired.
Kirsch straightened up as he realized he had not even stopped to think about it. Lafontaine took a big gulp beside him and started laughing, “I win on a technicality.”
It took Kirsch a little longer to get enough air into his lungs to speak, “Rematch. Right now.”
“No,” Danny said as she pulled a pan out of the oven, “You are helping me with this and you’re not going to eat us out of olives before dinner.”
Kirsch surmised that the rematch was not that important so he leaped around the counter to take the turkey from Danny.
“Yo frosh, where’s the perpetual grump?”
“Guys,” Laura responded, exasperated, “I told you she wasn’t coming.”
“And I was supposed to believe that? When have you ever not been together?”
“All of the time for your information.” Kirsch doubted that that had even a tiny semblance of truth but he was not going to argue with her. Danny was directing him to put the turkey onto a large plate as she surrounded it with carrots and potatoes from a pan she was draining. Perry and Lafontaine had hosted the last Thanksgiving despite Kirsch not being great friends with them and since he had a larger house than their apartment, it only seemed fair. Danny had refused to let anyone bring anything with them but it had not stopped Perry from bringing sweet potatoes. Kirsch was holding back his excitement because last year, those sweet potatoes had been the best thing on the table; he was not planning on telling Danny that this year.
They had started cooking last night only to wake up and continue earlier in the morning. Kirsch did not have a huge background in cooking but he could hold his own and if Danny explained what needed done, he felt pretty secure that he could accomplish the task. He had tried wiping mashed potatoes on her nose this morning and learned quickly that he should never do that again. “Kirsch, can you put those on the table?”
He swiped up the bowl of green beans from the counter, “You guys can sit wherever.”
Laura had been explaining her latest article to Lafontaine when Kirsch interrupted and Laura asked him, “How’s the team?”
“Great actually!” Kirsch had been more than proud of the progress the guys had been making, “They came together very fast for a lot of new kids being introduced. And I love it and I think they like me.”
“They love you, Kirsch,” Danny said. As she sat the potatoes on the table, her hand brushed over the top of his but no one seemed to notice so he let out a sigh. If she was going to take chances against her own wishes, then he was not going to be blamed for the consequences. Laura did give him a sly look but he waved it off as her being proud and happy for him. She had always been there to support him and he could not think this would be any different even if they lived farther away from each other than they ever had before and did not see each other as much. He missed her so much but telling her that would only make her feel bad and he knew she needed to be doing what she was doing. He needed the same thing. I should call more though.
“Sit, sit, sit,” Danny commanded, motioning them to sit and taking the knife off the turkey plate, “Well, guys, Happy Thanksgiving!”
With the words, she sliced the turkey and everyone repeated her words back to her. The food was passed around, Kirsch mounting his plate with mashed potatoes until Danny glared at him from across the table; her eyes said, “Save some for everyone.” So he slopped the last spoonful onto his plate and passed it to Laura who took one glob for herself and set it back on the table.
“Hey, Perry?” Kirsch had almost entirely forgotten that he needed to ask her a favor?”
“Yes, Kirsch?”
“So, the basketball team is doing fundraisers and we’re doing a bake sale and I was -”
“Of course, Kirsch,” she smiled at him.
“But I didn’t even get to ask,” Kirsch said, dumbfounded. Lafontaine spoke up, “Have you ever known Perry to turn down a friend in need? She can sense it. She probably knew before you asked.”
“Lafontaine,” Perry reprimanded, though lightheartedly.
“Well it wouldn’t have to be a lot of stuff. A plate of brownies would probably suffice. I know the bakery is just starting up and I don’t want to cut into your time there.”
“Kirsch, she stays up until all hours of the night baking; she wouldn’t even notice.”
“Just because I needed to put the last batch of cookies in early the other morning, doesn’t -”
“Two in the morning is not early, Perr. It’s not late either when you get out of bed specifically to go bake something,” Lafontaine was shaking their head in exasperation at Perry’s ridiculous actions. Perry seemed determined to ignore them and turned to Kirsch, “When is this bake sale?”
“It’s next month actually. The week before we break for Christmas so you have time and stuff. I didn’t want to spring it on you last minute. Thanks though, I can’t bake for my life and I didn’t want Danny to have to do a ton of work.”
“Who says I would’ve done any?” Danny threw at him. He knew she was only kidding and so he screwed up his face in a childish manner and gave her a look. That’s when he noticed Laura looking back and forth between with her eyes raised and a faint smile on her lips. He didn’t want her to say anything that would make him stumble and compromise the secret so he talked over her, “So, Little L, how’s work going?”
Once she started, she didn’t need any help continuing and her long discussions and complaints about work and school and the combination of the two, took up most of the dinner. His best friend seemed overworked and strung out yet somehow was still holding onto whatever it was that made her happy and full of energy. He would have assumed it was Carmilla but she was absent from their celebration. It still could be her, he thought, looking up at Danny who was completely focused on Laura while she talked.
Will was also missing; he had told Kirsch that he had a family event that day and maybe that should have clued Kirsch into the fact that Laura was telling the truth about Carmilla. It seemed difficult to separate the two but Laura was doing just fine on her own. He only hoped Will and Carmilla were okay. He had seen firsthand the type of situations their home life brought upon them and any remembrance of that made him shiver. Danny noticed, “You okay, Kirsch?”
He stuck his fork in a piece of turkey and answered before putting it in his mouth, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
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“Well, sit down, sit down,” his mother urged, a freakish smile on her face. It was out a place, an expression that had no business on the all-business woman. Their table was lined with food that none of them had made themselves. A hired chef did all the work; another display by their mother of their wealth and significance though no one else was there to see it. Will often wondered if it was supposed to be a reminder to him that she was in charge. Her not being there most of the time never allowed her to follow through but the reminder always was in the back of his mind. Every move he felt she could see or sense and that was enough to instill fear behind every decision.
Mattie obeyed, sitting directly across from their mother who was at the head of the table as she always had been. There was enough food to feed fifty more people than were attending their small family function. That sounds so weird. They weren’t a family. This was an obligation and the consequences of refusal were not bright.
Mattie had followed dress code perfectly though she was the wonder-child and never failed to appease their mother. A tight black dress stretched halfway down her thigh and despite them being inside the house, she had on formal black heels to match. Her jewelry was magnificent and sparkled in the light from the golden chandelier; accessories that their mother did not fail to point out in light of the fact that both Will and Carmilla had not met her standards.
Carmilla had indeed surprised them all when she walked in wearing a bright lavender blouse. Will had seen his mother’s expression falter just slightly until she took in the leather pants, strappy heels, and leather jacket that she so wished for Carmilla to rid herself of. The words that left her mouth were less than friendly, “I should have expected nothing less than disregard for my simple request that we all dress nicely.”
Will knew that blouse was not Carmilla’s, which showed that she had indeed tried to go along with rules. He had done the same, but his wardrobe at the Zeta house was rather limited even if he had showed up early, Mother would have been just as disagreeable. He was wearing khakis and nice brown dress shoes with a dark grey button up shirt neatly tucked in. He soon realized that his mother had expected him in a suit and found that her dislike of his choices, for the first time, outweighed her disgust for Carmilla. She had not turned them away though and invited them in, in a very curt manner to join Mattie in the dining room.
They had not seen Mother since Mattie had shown up at the gallery event to take over and it had been rather hopeful to think that she would never return. This house would always be hers no matter who lived in it and no matter the time period she was absent. She was in the house; it was menacing and after moving away, coming back to it, Will realized he could never again live there. It was a place to move through but to never stay too long.
The meal started out in silence; no one was willing to start without Mother giving an opening, even Mattie. Eventually she did turn towards Carmilla, “So, I’ve gathered some interesting news about you Carmilla.”
“And what would that be?” her eyes flickered to Will, telling him she had no idea what their mother was referring to. He shrugged as indiscreetly as he could and watched on, not being able to do anything to help.
“That you have somehow secretly graduated? Not giving your mother the chance to announce the wonderful day.” Carmilla remained silent as their mother cut apart the turkey on her plate with stiff movements. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“No, Mother.”
“So, no excuses this time?”
“No, Mother.”
“I was rather looking forward to the spite filled story that I would usually be greeted with. My how things have changed,” she took a bite and murmured, “I will need to let J.P. know that his selection of chef was superb.”
“Mother,” Mattie piped up, “I was hoping I could tell you about the gallery.”
“Indeed, my dear. Go ahead.” The rest of the dinner was taken up by that exact subject and their mother’s own interests in other parts of the world. She never once asked about Carmilla’s life or Will’s own, leaving them to eat in silence and suffer through. She usually inquired just to make some nasty comment against them, which she was not doing this time, and he was not sure which was worse.
He could feel himself trembling with anticipation; nothing ever ended well when they were all in a room together though Mattie had not been there for quite some time. He had not even gotten a chance to talk with Carmilla about how it felt to inhabit the same place as their estranged sister but he was certain she would not want to discuss it. It must have been going without hiccups because Mattie had not taken many of the chances she had to make a statement that would anger Lilita.
When their mother finished eating, that meant they were all done and she had the dishes cleared by the cook’s staff. “William, I see that you’ve taken it upon yourself to join a group rather below your standing. You did this without coming to me first and I can only think that was because you knew I would not approve.”
Will was caught off-guard by this tactic. He had never once thought that the Zeta’s would be a matter of concern to his mother. “Well,” he stumbled over the words and hesitated, “they’re a very old brotherhood on campus that goes back over many years. It has quite a legacy -”
“They have ruined that legacy and I would ask you to leave their presence immediately.”
“I’m not sure I -”
“This isn’t a discussion, William,” her eyes glowed at him as she glowered down.
“They’re my friends!” the words ripped out of him before he could stop himself and he was even surprised by the fury. A hand slapped across his face and his skin burned with the contact. Her nails must have hit because a cool liquid was slowly dripping down his cheek. Carmilla had risen abruptly, bumping into the table. Mattie was still sitting in her seat, her eyes wide, displaying an emotion that was peculiar on her face. His mother roared, “Since when have you gotten it into the little head of yours that you could speak to me in such a way?
“Mother -” sounded Carmilla, sheepishly.
Their mother whipped her head around towards Carmilla, “Do you want to be next? Apparently I’ve been too lenient on your little brother here and he has lost all understanding of the manners I instilled in him,” her gaze returned to Will, “Just because I am gone does not mean I do not expect you to act with the utmost respect.”
She rounded the table to have more room and crowded Will’s personal space. He felt himself shaking but tried to hold in the whimpers. He let the blood drip; trying to stop it or ease the stinging pain would only show her weakness and he knew from Carmilla’s example that that was the last thing to do.
“Do not touch him.” Carmilla’s voice rang throughout the silent dining room with a vehemence that matched their mothers. If Will was not her brother, he would have been frightened at the look on her face, and even knowing her so well, he still felt apprehensive.
“Excuse me?” Lilita questioned.
“I said: Do not touch him.”
“Well, well,” his mother straightened more if that was even possible, “I don’t think you are in any position to be giving orders to me. You have no power here, Carmilla. I am simply trying to teach young William what I believe I ingrained in you over the years. Disobeying me only leads to unhappiness and hurt. You would do well not to forget that.”
Carmilla’s eyes lowered and she said no more. Will was almost proud. She had stood up, even in a little way, to the woman who terrified her. That feeling almost cut through the pain of his cheek, but not quite. “Now go clean that up. I don’t want to have to look at it any longer.”
She dismissed him and he strode quickly from the room and out of sight, running up the stairs and into his bathroom, slamming the door behind him. His face in the mirror was already puffing up. The three scratches were not deep but they ran from the side of his face, almost to his nose. The blood was dripping out of the corner of the middle mark and easy enough to clean up. He could already see the skin changing color for a bruise to form. It would invite many questions and he was not even sure Carmilla’s skills with cover-up would keep this a secret.
He fell onto the seat of the toilet, his head falling into his hands. He wanted to cry, to feel something, and finally realized how Carmilla felt. He could understand how she retreated inside of herself and lost herself in nothing. He started to realize that though she was almost not strong enough to bring herself out of that darkness, he was not strong enough to enter it and so he sat there trying to become empty but feeling all of the pain.
He was not sure how much time had passed when there was a knock at the door. His mother would not have knocked but announced herself and waited so he was safe to assume it was Carmilla. “Come in.”
He was wiping his face from the wet tears that had finally come when Mattie slowly cracked the door and peeked in. Will looked up at her, confused, “What do you want?”
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I apologize if I don’t believe you,” he snapped. He could not sincerely accept her sudden interest in his well-being. He did not even know her well enough that she should care. She nodded at him, “Carmilla’s gone.”
“She just left me here?” it was his turn to be hurt. Thinking Carmilla had abandoned him when he never left her side almost pushed him over the edge.
“No, she’s downstairs. But she’s…well, you know.”
“No,” his voice quavered. She couldn’t do that again. So many people needed her. He needed her. He needed her right now and she chose the worst possible time to be lost to the world. It wasn’t fair that she could leave him when she was not even the victim of the attack. This wasn’t about her and she was being selfish.
“Mother made some comment about you and said something about Carmilla’s girlfriend and she lost it. She went insane for a minute Will. And then all of a sudden she was calm again and just sat down like she couldn’t see us. I didn’t know what to do and mother continued to yell at her and when Carmilla didn’t put up a fight, she stormed out of the room.”
He sat there in silence and filled with hatred for the self-pity that he could not rid himself of. It was taking over and making more anger where he should be worried. It consumed him and left him not caring about Carmilla because she had not cared about him. She had turned her back on him.
“William, I don’t know what to do.”
“Get out.”
“Please. You know how to deal with this. I don’t. She needs your help.”
He tilted his head up little bit, looking out from under his eyebrows and through gritted teeth growled, “Does it look like I care?”