A/N: Thanks to click here for awesomeness, Tyrannasaurus Rex, Friday Queen and umbrella leg for their awesome reviews- seriously it means a lot that you guys like my story :)
"You better remove that hand from me before I remove it from your body."
Carmilla's back is to you, her voice tight and aggressive. You flinch away from her in shock and sudden hurt-she's been rude to you before but never like this.
You'd spotted her waiting for you outside of Stars and Candles and had snuck up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder, hoping to be the one to surprise her for once with a sudden appearance.
However her response is less than friendly. (Oh, I've mucked up, I've mucked up…)
But she's turned around now. Seeing that you are the owner of the accursed hand, her entire demeanour changes, expression and voice warming immediately as she takes in your appearance.
"Oh sorry buttercup, I thought you were another dudebro trying to hit on me."
This time you've come prepared for the sultry tones of her voice of her voice, and so you are prepared to answer her with only minimal hesitation.
"It's good that you have a spikey defence mechanism Carm- I guess it keeps away all the creeps, although I have to admit you had me a little frightened for like two seconds…I mean do you have much experience with hand removal? Because I feel like you maybe should have mentioned that on our first date, also wow you look…"
You trail off as your brain fully registers her appearance.
She's wearing a very tight fitting short, black dress with plenty of cleavage (your brain begins to short circuit, repeating in an endless loop cleavage, boobs, cleavage, boobs…) and oh so much skin showing- legs, arms, shoulders…
Her make-up is heavy. Her eyeliner is applied liberally, making her dark eyes smoulder, her lips are painted in bright red.
And her hair…you want to run your fingers through those perfect curls, want to feel if they are as soft as silk…
Everything about her oozes sex and seduction and it takes every inch of your self-control not to kiss her right there, in front of a nightclub with an audience of horny twenty-something year olds.
You wonder what she looks like under that dress, and feeling like a horny animal you try and pull yourself out of your revere.
You come back to yourself to find her smirking at you, watching as your eyes rove all over her as her eyes beginning to do the same to you. She looks at you as if she wants to rip off your modest skirt and top and you blush slightly in response.
Both of you have been silent for a few minutes now, each taking in the other with affection and lust.
"Well now that you're quite done, do you want to see if I can flirt our way up the queue cupcake?"
"Laura." You reply bitingly
She merely looks at you sadly:
"No sweetie, I'm Carmilla."
"I meant that my name is Laura not cupca- oh never mind." God you hate her sometimes.
You both move towards the entrance of Stars and Candles, Carmilla taking your hand as you do so. With Carmilla looking every inch a dark seductress, the two of you have little difficult getting into the club.
Loud music immediately confronts the both of you, aggressive in its determination to drown out conversation.
Carmilla yells something unintelligible at you and begins to drag you towards the bar. Once there, she mouths something once more (perhaps asking what you want?). You yell something back over the whiny tones of Miley Cyrus and Carmilla makes eye contact with the bartender, gesturing at herself and you, raising a perfect brow.
Maybe this wasn't such a good idea…
Three drinks later (two is your usual limit but she persuaded you to try a third: "Come on cutie, stop being such a naïve provincial girl") and you have revised your initial sentiment- this is probably your best idea yet.
Carmilla has made the night a lot more fun by showcasing her various methods of scaring off people that try to get too friendly with either of you.
(Your favourite was probably when she told a fedora-wearing man"I can only orgasm if Taylor Swift is playing live…"
Your least favourite was when she pointed at you and said louder than you were entirely comfortable with: "She has explosive diarrhoea.")
Whether it is her dark remarks, or the mere fact that she looks intimidating dressed as she is, you find the night amazing- you don't have to worry about strangers in clubs as much as you usually do. You can let go, because Carmilla will be there to glare away the danger.
But the night begins to get even better when Carmilla, (who still seems to be coolly sober, despite the fact that she has drunk more than you), drags you towards the dance floor, murmuring something about the current song being "better than the usual garbage."
You begin to jump up and down vaguely to the beat of the music (you are maybe a little tipsy by this point). Carmilla refuses to do so, preferring to stand and watch you move enthusiastically to the music. You yell something akin to "C'mon Carm, have some fun!" before you lose her briefly in the crowd.
A moment passes before you feel her pressing against your back, hands at your waist, moving with you in time to the mechanical beat.
(Everywhere she touches burns and you know it's a cliché, but oh lord if it isn't completely right, if your very being isn't igniting at the feel of her against you…)
The song changes and you turn around slightly to see Carmilla beginning to lose her enthusiasm to what she sees as "senseless, communal body mashing to shit music."
She begins to drag you towards a darker corner of the club and your body tingles with anticipation as she pulls you close-
-spinning you into a slow waltz, utterly incongruous with the techno currently assaulting your ears.
However, this does not hinder the perfection of the moment. Her lips are so close and you are so intoxicated, both from the alcohol and from her very presence, that you barely notice how out of place your dancing is.
The two of you twirl together. You and Carmilla, waltzing in a shady corner of Stars and Candles for what could be forever.
The moment is broken when you stumble against Carmilla. (You've always been something of a lightweight when it comes to drinking.) You look up to see her watching you with concern.
"Time to go perhaps, sundance?"
She guides you through the crowd and people move away from her glower, allowing you through.
When you tell her that you are going to walk home, she stops you with a frown.
"But Caaarrmmm…it's just around the former- I mean the corner." You let out a giggle and pull at her arm.
She rolls her eyes at you and merely says:
"Cupcake, I'm not letting you go anywhere by yourself like this. We can walk to my place, it's pretty close and through crowded areas."
"Ohhh Caaarrrmmm, can I meet your cat?"
"Okay Laura, okay…"
She leads you away from the club, a supporting arm around your shoulders keeping you from falling over.
Her apartment is even closer than yours (it makes you wonder how you could have lived so close to one another and yet never met), and she fumbles with the lock to reveal a small, one bedroom apartment much like your own.
You follow her in and she turns to look at you. Her face wears an undisguised look of adoration and affection. The urge to kiss her is suddenly overwhelming and you walk towards her unsteadily.
She moves back slightly, and walks towards her small sink to get you a glass of water.
"Drink up creampuff, you'll thank me in the morning."
You take a few sips, placing the glass on her bedside table and then once more stumble towards her. In the process, you manage to trip on the flat boards of her apartment, knocking her down onto her bed.
You end up lying on top of her, gazing down at that picturesque face.
The fragments of your resistance crumble and you lean down to close the gap between the two of you, you are so close to those red lips and…
…she stops you, pressing a long finger to your lips and whispering:
"Laura…I don't want our first kiss to be a drunken pass that you can't remember in the morning. I want the both of us to do it for the right reasons, for it to be a sparkling moment of shared clarity…I just…"
Your brain is too muddled to comprehend her romantic ramble, but you nod anyway, rolling off her and smiling sleepily in understanding.
She smiles back at you, and gently removes her finger from your lips. (Once more, you alight with her touch.)
You're too drunk to move off her bed, and she makes no move to stop you from curling up and trying to sleep on her bed.
With infinite care she removes your shoes and drapes you in her duvet, kissing your forehead.
As you begin to drift into the cocoon of dreams, you hear her murmur, so softly that you are not sure if you imagined it or not:
"Goodnight Laura."
You wake up with a killer headache, entangled in Carmilla (you guiltily realise that you'd stolen her bed and she'd been forced to share a single with you), your head resting on her chest.
She looks down at you and smirks slightly.
"Feeling the alcohol are we creampu-"
You stop her from using one of her annoying pet names by moving upwards and kissing her, finally feeding that fire that has been burning within you since the two of you met.
It's a quick, soft press of lips- almost chaste. You know that despite your headache, you won't forget this time in your lives, that this is a beautiful moment that you will be able to remember with perfect clarity- the wondrous nature of a first kiss forever preserved within your very being.
And then Carmilla leans down and kisses you back and it's amazing, the two of you crammed into a single bed, kissing as if your lives depend on it.
A/N: Pretty sure the next chapter is going to be Christmas themed because AHH CHRISTMAS SPECIAL.
Also- do you guys mind if I add in some smutty chapters and some angst? I know it's annoying sometimes when a fluffy fic gets deep, but…