Never Leave

7

*Possible Trigger Warning*

"Carm?"

"Carm, come on. Wake up!"

Carmilla groaned, stirring. She could feel a gentle pressure pushing against her stomach. It was so soft. A hand. Laura's hand. She'd forgotten that Laura was no longer just a dream. She was here and she was real. They'd watched some show that Laura had picked out; something about a crazy bitch with a gun. She'd have to get into that one. She actually liked it. What she saw of it anyways. They'd fallen asleep before it was over. The last thing Carmilla registered was Laura's arms wrapping around her and the sounds of something apparently being blown to Hell. Now, she had Laura trapped on the couch, her head pressed into her neck and black curls tickling her nose. And all Carmilla wanted was to stay there. But Laura wasn't having it.

She wasn't quite sure this wasn't a dream. It was much too familiar. She was tired, barely awake, and dreaming of Laura. This had happened way too many times before. And- just like before- Carmilla simply played along until the cupcake disappeared and she was alone again.

"Cupcake, go back to sleep! We can talk later." Carm mumbled against the soft skin of Laura's neck. She could feel Laura's pulse, it raced a little after she spoke.

"Carm, please? I have to pee." Laura, whined, pushing at Carmilla yet again. Her hand was growing numb from being pinned between two bodies. Plus, she was hot! Her stomach felt sticky and her bladder was screaming for relief.

"Mmm...sshh!" Carmilla slid a hand across the smaller girl's face, trying to consciously cover her mouth. But, instead, she just basically smacked her.

Frustrated, and needing a bathroom, Laura huffed. It was harder getting Carmilla awake than Laura remembered. Was it always this difficult? Carmilla couldn't get up for two seconds to let her pee? Apparently not. The girl was still just as lazy, grumpy, and nocturnal as she was in college. Could it have possibly gotten worse?

...It definitely could've gotten worse. Regardless, it was going to have to take a break for a moment. With one swift motion, Laura tossed Carmilla to the floor, hopping up before the broody ex-vampire pounced on her again. Quickly, she ran off to find the bathroom before the floor became one.

With a yelp, Carmilla woke abruptly, cowering over a few feet and bringing her knees to her chest as her heart threatened to jump ship. She should've been used to it by now, but that dream was so much more real than all the others. Everything made her believe that Laura was really there. She could feel her. She could smell her. She couldn't have made that entire day up. Had her mind really tricked her again? That well?

As Carmilla looked around the room, her heart began to break more. The room was empty of any physical indication that Laura had been there. The couch was disheveled from where she'd fallen asleep. Her bowl from breakfast still sat on the table. The television was sitting on her Netflix list. Nothing showed that Laura was ever there. Except the smell.

The room smelled different. It wasn't the same average smell of dry paint, leftover pizza, and boyfriend candles. Or the occasional whiff of Carmilla's sweat from practicing. It smelled lighter. It smelled homier. It smelled like her. Unrelenting tears fell from her eyes and began to make puddles on the floor. As she wept. She felt betrayed by her own mind. She tricked herself into truly believing Laura had come back. Had this brilliant story of how she'd survived. How she'd returned. She almost completely believed it to be true. How could she have possibly come up with it on her own?

She felt her breathing begin to shallow and break, breath coming in gasps. The feeling of anxiety and despair filling her. Her chest felt heavier. Weighed down. Realizing all too soon what was happening, she pushed herself to resolve it.