Carmilla

You didn't get an ounce of sleep that night and according to the tossing and turning at the other end of the tent from you, neither did Laura.

After her confession, she bolted from the tent and was gone for ten minutes (probably less...definitely less) before you went to follow her. She was pacing back and forth in front of the rapidly dying fire, eyes wide, muttering to herself under her breath, exaggerated with flying arms as if she was berating herself like a child.

You were a little scared, more for your well-being than hers. She looked absolutely livid.

You told her to come back into the tent, pleading with her that it was getting cold now that the sun was rising on the other side of the planet, but she ignored you and continued to mumble incoherent nothings to herself.

When she finally did acknowledge you it was with piercing eyes and a fire inside her you had never witnessed in her features before. She abruptly stopped pacing, turned to you and practically hissed, "I'm fucking in love with you." She accompanied it with a shove to your chest, that caught you off guard almost causing you to trip backwards over one of the logs meant for the fire, and a finger jabbed into your shoulder before she practically growled out a slurred, "Fuck you!" with another weak shove to the middle of your chest. Then she was shouting, "This was never supposed to happen, you stupid, insufferable, sweet, insanely attractive jackass!"

You were confused, conflicted, your chest kinda hurt, and you didn't really know what Laura was going on about, but she was getting loud.

"Wait, what? Laura, calm down, you're going to wake your dad up. We can just pretend this never happened. Just pretend I never said anything." Your heart hurt to say it, but if it would calm Laura down, you were willing to say anything at your expense.

"I can't just pretend it never happened, Carmilla! I've said it out loud, which makes it real and now it's a thing and I- I can't." The light pouring from the open tent flap illuminated her face just enough for you to notice the tears streaming down her cheeks and the confliction in her eyes.

And then she was barreling past you and diving back into the tent like a blur through the night. It took a minute for your body to react and actually move, but you soon followed her, zipping the tent closed behind you, slowly, as if she was a young fawn and you were trying not to frighten her.

When you turned around, you found her hidden under a light blanket in the furthest most corner from where the sleeping bag the two of you had been sharing was lying. Her back was facing you. You took the hint, taking the liberty of packing away Laura's game and the booze and throwing them gently back into Laura's backpack. You thought about starting the fire back up and just sitting outside until the sun rose again, but it was seriously getting cold out.

You bit the bullet and stayed inside the tent, throwing another, heavier, blanket at Laura before you climbed into the sleeping bag...and immediately regretted it. It smelled like her. It smelled like Laura and you immediately wanted to rip it away from your skin, but you were already shivering from the cold - probably, most likely...it definitely had nothing to do with Laura's freak out - and didn't want to risk hypothermia...or something.

You laid there with your eyes glued to the back of Laura's head until the sun started to peek through the thin material of the tent and you heard Sherman start to stir.

The drive home was quiet. Laura barely acknowledged you. If Sherman noticed the palpable shift between the two of you, he didn't say anything and happily listened to his Johnny Cash Cassettes over the stereo. You were awake the entire ride.

You half expected Laura to stay at her dad's until further notice, but she got on the flight back home with you, albeit accompanied by the silent treatment, but she was there nonetheless. You took that as a good sign. That at least she was there. With you. But then back at the house, it was the same thing; her pretending you didn't exist, you forlornly watching her from a distance like a sad, lovesick puppy, while everyone else watched with pity in their eyes.

You even vaguely heard someone mumble something that sounded a lot like 'damn, what the hell happened on that camping trip'. You were asking yourself the same question.

She ignored you with fervor and determination. It hurt. But it also sparked something inside you and suddenly, you couldn't take it anymore. She wasn't going to push you away that easily.

It took you about three days to muster up enough courage, but when you did, you didn't hold back. And it might've been the most idiotic thing you have ever done, but it also could have gone a lot worse.

You went to Laf.

You told them everything.

They told you, "don't worry, I've got this!"

You trusted them.

You didn't expect what happened next.

Laura

You never thought in a million years that Lafontaine, after all the shit you've been through together, would be the person to use cookies - COOKIES - as an abduction tactic. Okay, technically they didn't abduct you, that might be a stretch, but still, telling you that Perry made your favorite cookies and that she left them in the attic for you and then closing the door and locking it the second you walked through the door, was not cool. And the worst part? Carmilla was there. Apparently Laf locked her up there not 15 minutes prior.

You could've killed them. Theoretically. In your head. They were still your best friend and you weren't a murderer. But you were pissed. There weren't even any cookies, for Merlin's sake.

You spent the majority of an hour yelling through the door at Laf who you were fairly certain was just sitting on the other side of it with a smug-as-all-heck smirk on their face.

Carmilla just watched you until she couldn't take it anymore and nearly begged you to stop because you were giving her a headache and she was not in the mood.

When you finally did shut up for five seconds, Lafontaine told you that you weren't allowed out until the two of you "made up" because apparently the two of you were "disgustingly in love and needed to get back together". That set you off again and you started picturing the door as Lafontaine's face.

Then, out of nowhere, because you could've sworn she was on the other side of the room from you, Carmilla was suddenly behind you, a hand over your mouth and her free arm wrapped around you, holding you so you weren't able to bang on the door anymore. And then there was shoving and more yelling and childish name calling that you probably meant to be more insulting than it actually was.

"Smug."

"Hypocritical."

"Superior."

"Delusional."

"Condescending."

"Tightly-wound."

"Narcissistic."

"Prissy."

"Uncaring."

"Nerdy."

"Nihilistic little-"

"-little journalist. You wish you were."

And then you were in each others faces. And no more words were exchanged. And your lips were on hers, or maybe it was her lips on yours, first. And it was quiet for several minutes, if Lafontaine's worried, distant shouts of 'have you killed each other yet?' were any indication. But you barely heard them. You were busy.

And then you were backing Carmilla up into the wall next to the door and somehow your hand made it down the front of her pants, past her underwear, and she was using her hands to guide your hips into a steady pace on her muscled thigh between your legs.

Then she started talking, just as your fingers were starting to work in a steady pace over her clit. Usually talking at really inopportune times was your thing.

"Laura, we should really-" You cut her off with a rough kiss.

"Carmilla, I swear-"

"Lau-" That time you cut her off with your hand over her mouth and two fingers pushed inside her. The only thing that came out of her mouth after that was a gasp.

"Shut. Up." You practically growled the words into her mouth, using your anger to fuel your libido, removing Carmilla's hands from your waist and pinning them above her head with the hand that wasn't busy pumping fingers roughly into her.

It wasn't long before her muscles were pulsing around your fingers while your mouth worked bruises into her shoulder and a half strangled attempt at your name was falling from her mouth as her head fell back against the wall with a dull thump. You were tempted to just let her fall to the ground, but you allowed yourself to hold her up until she pulled your hand from her pants and went to switch your positions.

She got you backed up into the wall and was greedily sucking on your neck when the door to the attic flung open and a half disgruntled, half concerned Lafontaine came barging in, looking ready to break up a fight that didn't happen (yet).

That was all it took to snap you out of whatever sex-crazed trance you were in. And then you were pushing Carmilla off of you and she was grabbing you by the wrist and you were yelling at her not to follow you.

You didn't stay long enough to catch the look of hurt on her face.

It would be better that way, in the long run.