A/N: Biggest issue with 50SoG: The 'Is it the money?' line. Her response was far too weak and she instantly forgave the guy for suggesting that she's a whore. Obviously in my version she calls that shit out right then and there. Also, I can't see Laura not owning her own laptop while at college in today's world. (In 50SoG she gets 'gifted a loaner'.) And yes, my snape-submiss reference was to "For the Potions Master's Amusement" (story ID: 4814128) which actually got me interested into finding the local BDSM community and I've very glad that I did.
Returning to Normal
Suddenly we both become aware of voices in the hall outside her bedroom door. We're no longer alone, it seems.
It takes a moment to process what I can hear.
"This is my first official day on the job, and I was given a schedule and specifically told by my predecessor that Ms. Karnstein isn't a morning person."
"Perry, please."
"Kirsch, I am not about to let you get in the way of me doing my job. This isn't a security concern."
"Perry, she's not alone."
"What do you mean she's not alone?"
"She has... someone... with her."
"Oh..." Perry seemed confused at how to handle this.
Carmilla blinks rapidly, stretching and yawning like the cat that ate the canary. "Looks like we'll have to get up, buttercup."
"Carmilla - I can't move." My wrists are still tied together! "I can't have them see me like this."
Her grin widens, as if she's contemplating leaving me like that, but she undoes the tie. The woven pattern has made an indented pattern around my wrists.It's... sexy. She gazes at me. She's amused, her eyes dancing with mirth. She kisses my forehead quickly and beams at me.
"Another first for me." she acknowledges, but I have no idea what she's talking about.
"I have no clean clothes in here." I am filled with sudden panic, and considering what I've just experienced, I'm finding the panic overwhelming. Holy crap. I have no clean clothes, and my Dorm Don is about to walk in on us! This isn't a nightmare, is it? "Perhaps I should stay here."
"Oh, no, you don't," Carmilla threatens. "You can wear something of mine." She has on a white t-shirt and runs her hand through her just-fucked hair. In spite of my anxiety, I lose my train of thought. Will I ever get used to looking at this beautiful woman?
"Laura, you could be wearing a burlap sack and you'd look lovely. Please don't worry and get dressed. I'll just go and deal with this." Her mouth presses into a hard line. "I will expect you in that room in five minutes, otherwise I'll come and drag you out of here myself in whatever you're wearing. My t-shirts are in this drawer. My shirts are in the closet. Help yourself." She eyes me speculatively for a moment, then leaves the room.
I find my bra under the bed and dress quickly. But if there's one thing I hate, it's not wearing clean panties. I rifle through Carmilla's chest of drawers and come across some black lacy boy shorts. I then tug on my impossible jeans and... I can't find my heels. Barefoot it is then.
Gathering my resolve, I dash into the bathroom and stare at my too-bright eyes, my flushed face - and my hair! Holy crap... just-fucked pigtails do not suit me either. I hunt in the vanity unit and find a comb. It will have to do. A ponytail is the only answer. I despair at my choice in clothes. Maybe I should take Carmilla up on her offer of clothing.
I reach into her closet and grab a sapphire blue button-up blouse and fasten a button or two near my cleavage for some semblance of modesty. "Here she is." Carmilla stands from where she's lounging on the couch. Her expression is warm and appreciative.
I saw the recognizable red curls of my now former floor Don, Perry. She looked great, really great. Getting out of Silas seems to have done a lot for her.
"So how did you two meet?" She looks questioningly at Carmilla, unable to hide her curiosity.
"Laura interviewed me for the student paper at WSU because I'm conferring the degrees there this week."
Double crap. I'd forgotten that.
"Oh, well I'm actually graduating this week, so I'll see you there." Perry replies.
My cell phone starts ringing. Betty, I bet.
"Excuse me." It's in the kitchen. I wander over and lean across the breakfast bar, not checking the number as I pick up the call.
"Hey, Betty-"
"Hey! Laura!" Holy crap, it's Danny. She sounds desperate. "Where are you? I've been trying to contact you. I need to see you, to apologize for my behavior on Friday. Why haven't you returned my calls?" And she sounds flustered.
"Look Danny, now's not a good time." I glance anxiously over at Carmilla who's watching me intently, her face impassive as she murmurs something to her Perry. I turn my back to her.
"Where are you? Betty is being so evasive," she whines.
"I'm fine, that's all you really need to know."
"Are you with her?"
"Danny, I'll call you later. I can't talk to you now." I hang up.
I walk as nonchalantly as I can back to Carmilla and Perry pretending to not listen in on my phone call.
"Will you two be wanting lunch? I have a whole list of daily routine things I have to check on, otherwise." She gathers up a small clipboard that undoubtedly has extensive notes on it.
"That's okay I will drive Laura back to her dorm."
"Of course, Ms. Karnstein. Laura, I'm glad to have run into you. I do hope we meet again."
LaFontaine appears, and they wearing some smart business-casual shirt and slacks. Perry, as always, turns towards her like a flower does to the sun.
"Ms. Karnstein, there's an issue with the Darfur shipment."
Carmilla nods curtly.
"Our equipment still at the airfield?"
"Yes ma'am."
LaFontaine nods at me. "Laura."
I smile tentatively back, as they turn and leaves.
"Does LaFontaine live here too, like Kirsch?"
"Yes." Her tone is clipped. What is her problem?
Carmilla heads over to the kitchen and picks up her BlackBerry, scrolling through some emails, I assume. Her mouth presses in a hard line, and she makes a call.
"Sue, what's the issue?" she snaps. She listens, watching me, dark eyes speculative, as I stand in the middle of the huge room wondering what to do with myself, feeling extraordinarily self-conscious and out of place.
"I'm not having either crew put at risk. No, cancel... We'll air drop instead... Good."
She hangs up. The warmth in her voice was gone. "I'm having to fight local warlords in order to deliver technology that could make hunger in Africa a thing of the past." She clenched her jaw as she growled out, "humans..."
I shrugged, not knowing much about the situation in Darfur. "You can't save everyone."
She rubbed her temples, taking a deep breath. "I know, and I can't just hire an army to kill the leaders in the genocidal war because the power vacuum will just make the next Kony rise to power on that side of the continent. Kirsch, get the R8 ready for me to take Miss Hollis home. Perry, inform Natalie that I'll be on my way into work after that; she must be having kittens over my late start today."
Carmilla goes over to her desk and pulls a manila folder out. "This is the contract and spreadsheet to fill out concerning your interests and hard limits. Read it, and we'll discuss it next weekend. I suggest you do some research, so you know what's involved." She pauses. "That is if you agree, and I really hope you do." She adds, her tone softer, anxious.
"Research?"
She arches an eyebrow up at me. "You'll be amazed what you can find on the Internet," she murmurs, "It's got more than just improbable pairing in slash fan-fiction." That reminded me of her mentioning a particular author before. Couldn't hurt to do research.
"Sure, I'll just make a call," I murmur. I just want to hear Betty's voice. She frowns.
"The tall ginger?" Her jaw clenches, and her eyes burn. I blink at her. "I don't exactly like nor trust her now." Her quiet, chilling tone is disquieting, and with good reason.
I scowled at her. "I just wanted to call Betty back." She seemed to be biting her cheek as she gave a slight bow in understanding.
"I apologize."
"I've been ignoring Danny's messages all weekend because I'm not too happy with her either." That seemed to put a bit of a smile back on her face.
"Ready?" Carmilla asks as we stand by the double doors to the foyer.
I nod uncertainly. She's resumed her distant, polite, uptight persona, her mask back up and on show. It vaguely reminded me of when Snape had to leave Hogwarts and resume being a Death Eater at the end of Goblet of Fire. She's got a mask she wears for business and to protect herself from being hurt.
She's wearing a black leather jacket over a silk boat-necked band tee and black jeans with ankle boots. She certainly doesn't look like the million-billion whatever-aire in these clothes. She looks like a girl from the wrong side of the tracks, maybe a badly behaved rock star or a catwalk model. I sigh inwardly, wishing I had a tenth of her poise. She's so calm and controlled. I frown, recalling her outburst about Danny... And I didn't exactly disagree with her.
Kirsch was hovering in the background, and I realized I wasn't hearing what was going on. "Tomorrow then," she says to Kirsch who nods.
"Ms. Karnstein, the R8 is downstairs and ready." He said, handing her the key. "Safe trip, Ms. Karnstein. Miss Hollis." Kirsch looks kindly at me, though perhaps there's a hint of pity hidden in the depths of his eyes. Did he also have to sign an NDA? Does everyone here know about her Red Room of Pain?
"The Jeep is at your disposal for today, Kirsch. I think Perry might need to do some shopping for the apartment. No Doughnuts!" She says with her eyes narrowed.
Kirsch holds the door open for us and ushers us through. Carmilla summons the elevator. "What is it, Laura?" she asks. How does she know I'm chewing something over in my mind? She reaches up and pulls my chin.
"Stop biting your lip, or I will fuck you in the elevator, and I don't care who gets in with us." I blush, but there's a hint of a smile around her lips, finally her mood seems to be shifting.
"Carmilla, I have a problem."
"Oh?" I have her full attention. The elevator arrives. We walk in, and Carmilla presses the button marked G.
"Well," I flush. How to say this? "I need to talk to Betty. I've so many questions about sex, and you're too involved. If you want me to do all these things, how do I know - ?" I pause, struggling to find the right words. "I just don't have any terms of reference."
She rolls her eyes at me. "Talk to her if you must." She sounds exasperated. "Make sure she doesn't mention anything to anyone, particularly my brother Will."
I bristle at her insinuation. Betty isn't like that.
"She wouldn't do that." I add quickly.
"Well, the difference is that I don't want to know about his sex life," Carmilla murmurs dryly. "Will's a nosy bastard. But only talk about what we've done so far, none of the Dominance and submission stuff, please." she warns.
"Okay," I agree readily, smiling up at her, relieved. Her lip quirks up at me, and she shakes her head.
"The sooner I have your submission the better, and we can stop all this," she murmurs.
"Stop all what?"
"You, defying me. I'm not used to... this." She reaches down and cups my chin and plants a swift, sweet kiss on my lips as the doors to the elevator open. She grabs my hand and leads me into the underground garage.
Me, defying her... how?
Beside the elevator, I can see the black Jeep, but it's the sleek, black sporty number that blips open and lights up when she points the key fob at it. It's one of those cars that should have a very leggy blonde, wearing nothing but a sash, sprawled across the hood.
"Nice car," I murmur dryly. She glances up and grins.
"I know," she says, and for a split second, sweet, young, carefree Carmilla is back. It warms my heart, she's so excited. I roll my eyes at her but can't stifle my smile. She opens the door for me and I fall in. Whoa... it's low. She moves round the car with easy grace and folds her long frame elegantly in beside me. How does she do that?
"So what sort of car is this?"
"It's an Audi R8 Spyder. It's a lovely day, we can take the top down. There's a cap in there. In fact there should be two." She points to the glove box. "And sunglasses if you need them."
She starts the ignition, and the engine roars behind us. She places her bag in the space behind our seats, presses a button, and the roof slowly reclines. With the flick of a switch, Awakening from the Underworld soundrack surrounds us. She grins as the opening notes blast into the open air.
"Gotta love this soundtrack," she grins at me and eases the car out of the parking space, and up the steep ramp where we pause for the barrier.
Then we're out into the bright May morning. I reach into the glove box and retrieve the caps. The Comets. She likes basketball. I pass her a cap, and she puts it on. I pass my ponytail through the back of mine and pull the peak down low.
People stare at us as we drive through the streets. For a moment, I think it's at her... and then a very paranoid part thinks everyone is looking at me because they know what I've been doing during the last twelve hours, but finally, I realize it's the car. Carmilla seems oblivious, lost in thought.
The traffic is light and we're soon on the I-5 heading south, the wind sweeping over our heads. I hear the lyrics, about missing being human anymore. It's kind of catchy. Carmilla glances at me. She's got her Ray-Bans on so I can't see what she's thinking. Her mouth twitches slightly, and she reaches across and places her hand on my knee, squeezing gently. My breath hitches.
"I've really enjoyed this weekend," I murmur. She narrows her eyes at me again.
"Stop biting that lip," she growls over the sound of the car and stereo. "Me too," she adds.
"What's vanilla sex?" I shout, if anything to distract myself from the intense, burning, sexy look she's giving me. She laughs.
"Just straightforward sex, sweetness. No toys, no added extras." She shrugs. "You know... well actually you don't, but that's what it means."
"Oh; I thought it was chocolate fudge brownie sex that we had, with a cherry on the top!" But hey, what do I know? "Why have you never had 'vanilla' sex before? Have you always done... err, what you've done?" I ask, intrigued.
She nods slowly.
"Sort of." Her voice is wary. She frowns for a moment and seems to be engaged in some kind of internal struggle. Then she glances up, a decision made. "One of my mother's friends seduced me when I was seventeen."
"Oh." Holy shit that's young!
"She had very particular tastes. I was her submissive for six years." She shrugs.
"Oh." My brain has frozen, stunned into inactivity by this admission.
"So I do know what it involves." Her eyes glow with insight.
I stare at her, unable to articulate anything - even my subconscious is silent.
"I didn't really have a run-of-the-mill introduction to sex."
Curiosity kicks in big time.
"So you never dated anyone at college?"
"No." She shakes her head to emphasize the point.
"Why?"
She smiles sardonically.
"Do you really want to know?"
"Yes."
"I didn't want to. I was getting chocolate fudge brownie sex, why settle for diet vanilla? And besides, she'd have beaten the shit out of me." She smiles fondly at the memory.
Oh, this is way too much information - but I want more.
"So if she was a friend of your mother's, how old was she?"
She smirks.
"Old enough to know better."
"Do you still see her?"
"No. It was a lifetime ago."
Carmilla the submissive... Holy shit. Jeez, all these revelations, it's so much to think about. I need time to process this, when I'm on my own, not when I'm distracted by her presence. She's so overwhelming, so Dominant, and now she's thrown this bombshell into the equation. She knows what it's like.
"But it can't have been full time?" I'm confused.
"Well, it was, though I didn't see her all the time. It was... difficult."
"Is this what our err... relationship will be like?" I whisper, "You, ordering me around?" I can't quite bring myself to look at her.
"Yes," she murmurs.
"I see."
"And what's more, you'll want me to," she adds, her voice suggestive.
I sincerely doubt that.
"It's a big step," I murmur.
"It is."
"Cupcake, you have to go with your gut. Do the research, read the contract - I'm happy to discuss any aspect. I'll be in Silas until Friday if you want to talk about it before then." Her words are coming at me in a rush. "Call me - maybe we can have dinner - say, Wednesday. I really want to make this work. In fact, I've never wanted anything as much as I want this to work."
Her burning sincerity, her longing, is reflected in her eyes. This is fundamentally what I don't grasp. Why me? Why not one of the fifteen? Oh no... Will that be me - a number?
Sixteen of many?
"What happened to the fifteen?" I blurt.
She raises her eyebrows in surprise, then looks resigned, shaking her head.
"Various things, but it boils down to," she pauses, struggling to find the words I think.
"Incompatibility." She shrugs.
"And you think that I might be compatible with you?"
"Yes."
"So you're not seeing any of them anymore?"
"No, Laura, I'm not. I am monogamous in my relationships, though 8 and 9 were a package deal." She smiled sadly at that. The next song came on, and it was... sex. A woman's crooning that felt like a suggestive finger going down your spine.
Oh... this is news.
"I see."
"Do the research, Laura."
"I'd give anything to know what you're thinking right at this moment," she murmurs, glancing at me as I hear, 'Christ is comin' and so am I - You would too if this sexy devil caught your eye' play from her speakers.
I blush further as she smiles a wicked smile at me. She is a sexy devil.
"I can guess," she teases softly.
"I'm glad you can't read my mind."
"Your mind, no, Laura, but your body - that I've got to know quite well since yesterday." Her voice is suggestive. How does she switch so quickly from one mood to the next? It's hard to keep up.
She puts her hand out, palm up, a silent plea to hold my hand. This contact, flesh to flesh, it's what is so unexpected from her; normal, intimate. I can't reconcile this ordinary, tender gesture with what she wants to do in that room... The Red Room of Pain. The singer continues to say something about being a martyr for the hell between those thighs, which reminds me of this morning and how I know I'm going to walk back into that room for another chance to be with her.
When she parks outside my apartment, it's five in the evening. The lights are on - Betty is at home. Packing, no doubt, unless Jamie is still there. She switches off the engine, and I realize I'm going to have to leave her.
"Do you want to come in?" I ask. I don't want her to go. I want to prolong our time together.
"No. I have work to do," she says simply, gazing at me, her expression unfathomable as she lip synchs to what must be her favorite part of the song.
My pulse has been rising, my temples are pounding, the pressure is so overwhelming and building
So steady now, Freddy, I'm ready to blow; what is she, what is she, what is she waiting for?
I stare down at my hands, as I knot my fingers together. Suddenly I feel emotional.
She's leaving. Reaching over, she takes my hand again and slowly pulls it to her mouth, tenderly kissing the back of my hand, such an old fashioned, sweet gesture. My heart leaps into my mouth.
"Thank you for this weekend, Laura. It's been... unforgettable. Wednesday, I'll pick you up from work, from wherever?" she says softly.
"Wednesday," I whisper.
She kisses my hand again and places it back in my lap. She climbs out, comes round to my side, and opens the passenger door. Why do I feel suddenly bereft? A lump forms in my throat. I must not let her see me like this. Fixing a smile on my face, I clamber out of the car and head up the path, knowing and dreading facing Betty. I turn and gaze at her midway. Chin up Hollis, I chide myself.
"Oh... by the way, I'm wearing your underwear." I give her a small smile and lower the jeans I'm wearing so she can see. Carmilla's mouth drops open, shocked. What a great reaction. My mood shifts immediately, and I sashay into the house, part of me wanting to jump and punch the air.
Betty is in the living area packing up her books into crates.
"You're back. Where's Carmilla? How are you?" Her voice is fevered, anxious, and she bounds up to me, grabbing my shoulders, minutely analyzing my face before I've even said hello.
Crap... I have to deal with Betty's persistence and tenacity, and I'm in possession of a legal signed document saying I can't talk. It's not a healthy mix.
"Well how was it? I couldn't stop thinking about you, after Jamie left, that is." She grins mischievously. That sounds kind of creepy. It was very private. All of it. Seeing and knowing what Carmilla has to hide. But I have to give her some details, because she won't leave me alone until I do.
"It was good, Betty. Very good, I think," I say quietly, trying to hide my embarrassed tell-all smile.
"You think?"
"I've got nothing to compare it to, do I?" I shrug apologetically.
"Did she make you come?"
Holy crap. She's so blunt. I go scarlet.
"Yes," I mumble, exasperated. That much is obvious.
Betty pulls me to the couch and we sit. She clasps my hands.
"That is good." Betty looks at me in disbelief. "It was your first time. Wow, Carmilla must really know what she's doing."
Oh Betty, if only you knew.
"My first time was horrid," she continues, making a sad comedy face. I smiled awkwardly, wondering if I really wanted to hear this or not.
"Oh?" This was going to be awkward.
"Yes, Paul Sheridan. High school, dickless jock." She shudders. "He was rough, I wasn't ready. We were both drunk. You know - typical teenage post-prom disaster. Ugh - it took me months before I decided to have another go. And not with him; I was too young. You were right to wait."
"Betty, that sounds awful." Betty looks wistful.
"Yeah, took almost a year to have my first orgasm through penetrative sex and here you are... first time?"
I nod shyly.
"I'm glad you lost it to someone who knows their ass from their elbow." She winks at me. "So when are you seeing her again?"
"Wednesday. We're having dinner."
"So you still like her?"
"Yes. But I don't know about... well, if there's a future."
"Why?"
"She's complicated, Betty. You know - she inhabits a very different world to mine." Great excuse. Much better than - she's got a Red Room of Pain, and she wants to make me her sex slave.
"Oh please, don't let this be about the money, Laura. From what I researched, it's unprecedented for Carmilla to date anyone."
"Maybe she's really private about that stuff?" Like NDA level private, complete with lawyers and everything.
"Laura, what is it?"
"I'm just remembering something Carmilla said."
"You look different," Betty says fondly.
"It's only because you now know what happened." I confess.
"You've barely given me any juicy tidbits! What's her bedroom like? Does she have fake boobs?"
"I'm not going to divulge stuff like that! I'm not asking if... Jamie was well hung, or whatever..."
Betty Spielsdorf goes pale in understanding. Or is there something she's dying to say? She gives me a dewy-eyed look. I've never seen her react this way before. My jaw drops to the floor. Where's Betty, what have you done with her?
"Oh, Laura," she gushes. "He's just... When we... oh..." She can hardly string a sentence together?
"I think you're trying to tell me that you like him after all this time."
She nods, grinning like a lunatic. "But he's... ugh! I need to just say it. He was born a girl."
"Oh." My mind goes back to a friend I met in high school as I already know what that means and roll with it. "Okay. So you like him?"
She nods, glad to hear the tacit acceptance. "And I'm seeing him again Saturday. He's going to help us move." She clasps her hands together, leaps up off the couch, and pirouettes to the window. Moving. Crap -
I'd forgotten all about that, even with the packing cases surrounding us.
"That's helpful," I say appreciatively. She doesn't know I'm staying this summer because I'll be the Dorm Don next fall. She nods and picks up two more books to pack.
"So what do you want to do with the whatever-thousand dollar book?" she asks. Carmilla saw the quote and I told her I was going to return it, but it's still here, and she gave it to me for a reason, as part of the warning... why? I shook my head at that.
"I'm going to return it to her."
"Really?"
"It's a completely over-the-top gift. I can't accept it, especially now." I grin at Betty, and she nods.
"I understand. By thew way, a couple of letters came for you, and Danny has been calling every hour on the hour. She sounds desperate."
"I'll call her," I mutter evasively. If I tell Betty about Danny, she'll have her for breakfast. I collect the letters from the dining table and open them. I have interviews! I can get a head start on my internship for my senior year!
"Hey, I have interviews! The week after next for internships!"
"I told you your GPA would open doors, Laura." Betty, of course, got her internship with Silas' paper. The article on Ms. Karnstein was her golden ticket.
"How does Jamie feel about you going away for the summer?" I ask. Betty wanders into the kitchen, and for the first time this evening, she's disconsolate.
"He's understanding. Part of me doesn't want to go, but it's tempting to lie in the sun for a couple of weeks. Besides, Mom is hanging in there, thinking this will be our last real family holiday before Ethan and I head off into the world of paid employment."
I'll be alone in our new dorm room. That will be weird. The phone rings, jolting me from my reverie.
"That'll be Danny."
I sigh. I know I have to talk to her. I grab the phone.
"Hi."
"Laura, you're back!" Danny shouts her relief at me.
"Obviously." Sarcasm drips from my voice, and I roll my eyes at the phone.
She's silent for a moment.
"Can I see you? I'm sorry about Friday night. I was drunk... and you... well. Laura - please forgive me."
"Do you know exactly how much you're asking me to forgive you over what happened Friday night? You really scared me, you know? I always had a fear that some guy would do that to me, and instead it came from you. You hurt my feelings; you know I don't feel like that about you."
She sighs heavily, sadly.
"I know, Laura. I just thought, if I kissed you, it might change how you feel." Change how I feel? While I was intoxicated?!
"Danny, I was drunk. I was given the talk by my dad about this kind of stuff happening in college. I mean, why do you think he gave me bear spray? I trusted as a friend, only to see you try to take advantage of me and now you're trying to excuse your own actions because you were drunk? That's rape culture right there, and I don't have to stand this from you." I hated to say it, but it's the truth.
"So you're with her now?" Her tone is full of disdain.
"Danny, I'm not with anybody."
"But you spent the night with her." She sounded hurt, but damn it, this isn't about her hurt feelings!
"That's none of your business!"
"Is it the money?" Danny spat jealously.
"I'M NOT A WHORE!" I shout, staggered by her audacity. "Look, I get you're upset, hurting, and jealous, but seriously. What I do with someone else is NOT your concern."
"Laura," she whines and apologizes simultaneously. I cannot deal with her pettiness right now.
"Maybe we can hang out or something later on. I'll call you." I try to be conciliatory. She is my friend, but right now, I don't need this.
"So you'll call?" The hope in her voice twists my heart. She's going to delude herself no matter what I say, won't she?
"Yes... goodnight, Danny." I hang up, not waiting for her response.
"What was that all about?" Betty demands, her hands on her hips. I decide honesty is the policy. She's looking more intractable than ever.
"She made a pass at me on Friday."
"Danny and Carmilla?! Laura, your pheromones must be working overtime!" She shakes her head in humor and returns to packing crates.
"More like she tried to force herself on me when I was way too drunk."
"Oh, that happens." Betty says, rolling her eyes. I realize that it's a lost cause with her as we sit among the boxes eating, quaffing cheap red wine, and watching crap TV. This is normality. It's so grounding and welcome after the last forty-eight hours of... madness. I eat my first unhurried, no nagging, peaceful meal in that time.
Danny is easy to deal with. But Carmilla... Carmilla takes a whole different league of handling, of understanding. Part of me wants to run and hide. What am I going to do? Her burning dark eyes and that intense seduction stare come into my mind's eye, and my body tightens at the mere thought. She's not even here, and I'm turned on. It can't just be about the sex, can it? I recall her gentle banter this morning at breakfast, her joy at my delight at the big cat sanctuary, her playing the violin - she's such a complicated person. And now I have an insight as to why.
A young girl deprived of her adolescence, sexually abused by some evil Mrs. Robinson figure... no wonder she's old before her time. My heart fills with sadness at the thought of what she must have been through. I'm too naive to know exactly what, but the research should shed some light. But do I really want to know?Do I want to explore this world I know nothing about?
If I'd not met her, I'd still be sweetly and blissfully oblivious. My mind drifts to last night, and this morning... and the incredible, sensual things I've experienced. Do I want to say goodbye to that?
Betty wanders back into the living room, grinning from ear to ear. Perhaps she's in love - I gape at her. She's never behaved like this.
"Laura, I'm off to bed. I'm pretty tired."
"Me too, Betty."
She hugs me.
"I'm glad you're back in one piece. There's something about Carmilla," she adds quietly, apologetically. I give her a small, reassuring smile - all the while thinking... How the hell does she know? This is what will make her a great journalist, her unfaltering intuition. And it means I have to always be wary for Carmilla's sake.
Collecting my purse, I wander listlessly into my bedroom. I am weary from all our carnal exertions of the last day and from the complete and utter dilemma that I'm faced with. I sit on my bed and gingerly extract the manila folder from the bag, turning it over and over in my hands. Do I really want to know the extent of Carmilla's depravity? It's so daunting. I take a deep breath, and with my heart in my throat, I rip open the envelope.
A/N: Below is the original conversation in 50SoG
"Can I see you? I'm sorry about Friday night. I was drunk... and you... well. Ana - please forgive me."
"Of course, I forgive you Jose. Just don't do it again. You know I don't feel like that about you."
He sighs heavily, sadly.
"I know, ana. I just thought, if I kissed you, it might change how you feel."
"Jose, I love you dearly, you mean so much to me. You're like the brother I never had.
That's not going to change. You know that." I hate to let him down, but it's the truth.
"So you're with him now?" Him tone is full of disdain.
"Jose, I'm not with anybody."
"But you spent the night with him."
"That's none of your business!"
"Is it the money?"
"Jose! How dare you!" I shout, staggered by his audacity.
"Ana," he whines and apologizes simultaneously. I cannot deal with his petty jealousy now. I know he's hurt, but my plate is overflowing dealing with Christian Grey.