Once we stepped from the porch and pulled the masks from our faces, the woods went completely dark.

We were completely alone, no Munera Hall, no fireflies, no super-luminescent stars overhead — they had all disappeared in the blink of an eye.

"Carm?" I said.

I reached out for her. I grabbed hold of her wrist, her skin still warm.

"What's up, Cupcake?" she said.

"Just checking if you're still here," I said. "Can you see anything?"

"I can see enough," she said.

Next, her hands were on my face, her lips were on my lips, and just as fast as she kissed me, she pulled away.

"What? What was that?" I said.

"I was just checking..."

"Checking what?"

"To see if the magic had worn off yet."

She kissed me again, and I tasted her split lip, and though my heart quickened, it was more from her embrace than from the metallic taste of her blood.

"And?" I whispered.

"See for yourself," she said, leaning her head back.

I looked up, and the stars were back to their stationary selves, just ordinary twinkling stars, beautiful in their ordinary way. But I knew exactly what Carmilla was seeing, and I knew why she smiled so big and sighed.

"Happy to be back?" I said.

"I guess so," she said. "Aren't you?"

"I'll be happier once we get out of these woods."

I pulled out my new flashlight.

We didn't walk long before we reached the edge of the woods. As we crossed the grassy lawn beside the cemetery, the sky was growing lighter by the moment.

"How is it almost morning?" I said. "It was only midnight back at Munera Hall."

Carmilla shrugged her shoulders.

"Right," I said. "Magic."

By the time we got back to the dormitory, the sky was a bluish-gray, a color that represented safety and security to me. But when I glanced at Carmilla; she was already squinting, with one hand raised over her eyes.

"I'm sorry we didn't stay long enough to see the sunrise," I said.

"Don't apologize," she said. "I think we wore out our welcome anyway. We definitely won't be getting invited to another Saturnalia ball any time soon."

"Well, I hate to say that I told you so, but we could have avoided this whole embarrassing spectacle had you just read the invitation like a responsible adult."

She rolled her eyes as we climbed the front steps. "Like I said, I live life on the edge."

Her words reminded me of something. I stopped her at the door. I pushed my hand against her chest and smiled.

"Wait here," I said.

"I already told you, sun equals mind-searing migraine?"

"I know! Just trust me!"

I ran upstairs, pulled the box of presents out from beneath my bed and took out the welder's mask. When I returned she was sitting on the front steps with her hands over her eyes as if playing hide-and-seek.

"Laura," she said, "if this is your sick idea of..."

"Just wait a minute," I said. "I thought of the perfect present."

"That's just great, but how am I supposed to see it?"

"Patience, Cupcake," I said.

I sat next to her and held the mask in front of her face.

"There," I said. "Open your eyes."

"Remember the part where I said it feels like my cranium will explode if I...?"

"Do you really think I'd let anything happen to you?" I said.

At that, she sighed and opened her eyes, just barely.

"Whoa!" she said, leaning forward and pulling the mask right up against her face.

She was quiet after that — very quiet and very still. Her mouth hung open and I was sure that she didn't budge even one tiny bit. She just stared.

We sat like that a long time, watching the clouds change by the moment, brightening from charcoal to smoky gray, from deep purple to luminescent pink, and then finally to a crisp, bright white that was so bright it nearly hurt my eyes.

And still she did not move.

The birds chirped a cheerful tune, and the dew melted on the grass.

And still she did not move.

I scooched right up next to her, slipping my arm around her shoulders and leaning against her.

She did not move.

I know I should have let her enjoy her moment but I just couldn't take the suspense any longer. I leaned close to her ear and whispered, "So?"

She turned to me, and though her face was hidden and her voice was muffled, I could still hear her smile.

"Best. Saturnalia. Ever."