The ballroom was the same as the hundreds Carmilla had been in before. It was large and open, with a high ceiling and lacquered floor. Trestle tables laden with food lined the walls. Guests lingered around the edges of the room, or formed pairs in the middle of the floor to dance. It was all the same, all so predictable. But, also, somehow different. Lighter, maybe. The candles in the chandeliers seemed to flicker with dazzling light, bathing the room in their yellow glow. Carmilla almost felt like everyone was floating.
And yet, behind the shimmer, in the far corners, shadows lurked, deep and dark and menacing. They seemed to pull at Carmilla, to invite her to wade in and lose herself. The darkness called to her, Come, let go.
Carmilla pushed the sensation away. She had spent so long fighting; she wouldn't give in now. Instead, she turned her back and gave her attention to the dance floor. Here there was no darkness. The ladies' dresses shone in jewel tones, and even the men's black suit coats seemed to gleam. Carmilla wandered along the perimeter of the swirling crowd, satisfied for now to simply watch. She would much prefer to study the pretty young ladies in attendance, nursing a flute of champagne, than be dragged around the floor by some heavy-handed fool.
She had just begun her search for a glass of the bubbly alcohol when her eyes landed on a familiar figure. Carmilla froze in shock. No, it couldn't be. She blinked a few times to clear her vision, but the girl refused to disappear. It really was her. Laura. But… how?
She was wrapped in a dress of pink silk; so pale it was almost white. It tumbled from her shoulders and clung to her waist, flowing elegantly over her legs to the floor. Carmilla felt her heart quicken at the sight of those legs moving under the airy fabric, unable to tear her eyes away from the vision moving through the crowd. Suddenly, she didn't care about how. All that mattered was Laura was coming towards her.
She stopped before Carmilla, a warm, almost sly smile on her lips as she extended her hand. Carmilla dutifully took it and kissed it, lingering over-long, intoxicated by the feel of Laura's skin against her lips. Laura's smile merely widened in response. She looped her hand through Carmilla's elbow and led her onto the dance floor, quirking an eyebrow when Carmilla simply stood in front of her.
Carmilla flushed and scrambled into position, taking Laura's hand with one of her own and wrapping the other around Laura's back. Laura laid her free hand delicately on Carmilla's shoulder, and Carmilla couldn't repress the shiver that ran down her spine. The musicians started playing the tune of a waltz, and all at once the two girls were dancing.
Laura moved with the grace and certainty of one who had been dancing since childhood. And Carmilla, with all her endless years of practice, found herself once again the novice – all fumbling feet and coltish knees. But as they twirled together – close, so close – their legs brushed softly against each other, sending waves of heat to Carmilla's core. Her hand trembled on Laura's back.
But Laura seemed to notice none of Carmilla's discomfort or distraction. She danced with a soft, contented smile on her face, her head titled back prettily, her elaborately curled hair falling behind her shoulder. She gazed at Carmilla with half-lidded eyes as they whirled, never looking away, her attention absolute. Carmilla gazed back, her dizziness only caused in part by the spinning.
As they moved across the dance floor, Carmilla noticed something change in Laura's eyes. They grew darker and darker, filling with shadow, pulling her in…
Carmilla suddenly felt hyper-aware of Laura's skin beneath her fingers, of the warmth, the life held beneath. She could almost hear the girl's blood as it thrummed through her veins. Her eyes fixed on the column of Laura's throat, on the fluttering pulse point exposed there. She felt her canines press against her lower gums, itching with desire, aching with want.
She tried to back away, but Laura's hands were now like vices on her arms, holding her there. Her eyes locked with Laura's, now like pools of ink, and Carmilla felt herself fall into their depths. Come, they said. Take, taste.
So Carmilla lowered her head and slowly, slowly, like a lover's kiss, sank her teeth into Laura's neck. The girl went limp in her arms, but Carmilla held her fast as hot, rich blood flowed over her tongue. It was like nothing she had ever tasted before. She could taste Laura's sweetness, her tenderness – her very essence.
She pulled back, licking her lips as she gazed at the slack form in her arms. Dark blood coursed from Laura's neck down the front of her dress, staining the pale fabric black. Carmilla licked the stream away, running her tongue over Laura's breast before returning to the gaping wound her teeth had rent. She drank deeply, fervently. She couldn't stop – didn't want to stop. Laura's blood poured from her, filling Carmilla's mouth, spilling over her lips and down her chin…
Laura's scream jerked Carmilla from the dream. Her roommate was thrashing beneath her covers, moaning about darkness clawing at her throat. Carmilla wiped at her mouth in alarm, sighing in relief when her hand came away clean. She quietly slipped from under blankets, moving to kneel beside Laura's bed. Carefully, she smoothed sweaty bangs off of Laura's forehead, trailing her fingers down the side of Laura's face. She began to hum the tune of the dream waltz as she lightly brushed her thumb against Laura's cheek.
Slowly, the girl stopped shaking, her brow relaxing back into the peaceful smoothness of deep sleep. Her hands unclenched from their grip on the comforter, one drifting to rest in front of Carmilla. Carmilla took it in her own, pressing a kiss to the knuckles, then turning it over and kissing the center of the palm. "Sleep now," she murmured.
Carmilla carefully placed Laura's hand back on her chest, then crept back into her own bed. She scooped Laura's yellow pillow to her chest, burying her head in Laura's scent. "I'm sorry."