A constant diet of only cookies and grape soda had finally caught up to Laura Hollis.
"I don't understand it, I never get sick." She complained to her vampiric girlfriend, Carmilla between coughs and sneezes.
"I know, that's something that I've never understood myself. It's supernatural, really." Carmilla scoffed, though she remained on the other side of the small dorm room from where Laura laid in her sickbed, where the tiny gay was watching Doctor Who and littering the floor with soiled tissues.
"Carm, can you get sick?" Laura paused her show to ask.
"Not with any human diseases. There are illnesses that can affect vampires but you would never have heard of them." She answered, turning to glare out of the window.
"Why are you all the way over there then, instead of over here, where you would make me feel better?" Laura asks.
"You're sick. This isn't the time for me to ravish you, sweetling." Carmilla smirks, finally feeling like she could tease Laura without breaking her in this fragile state.
"I have a cold, I'm not dying. Come and hold me while I attempt to stay awake and watch the Daleks exterminate." She pats the bed beside of her with a poor imitation of the monotone robot voice.
"You're going to die one day." Carmilla mumbles, sliding under the covers smoothly.
"Maybe." Laura replies, her face going red.
"Maybe." The vampire replies, one arm serving as pillow and the rest of her body turned so that she could lean against the little human, her face buried in Laura's hair and shoulder, completely content to let those worries rest for another day.
