A/N: Thank you to sabrina bayonet, sapphoninja, AmyLeggate and two guests for reviewing and thank you to everyone favouriting, following and reading my story. You guys are all awesome.

And to answer the guest reviewer's question "when's the next one?" My answer is…right now.

It's difficult to figure out which sort of movie Carmilla would like.

Horror sounded like a pretty safe bet to you (knowing her dark sense of humour she'd probably enjoy poking fun at the people being murdered in the movie.)

But you're still not sure. You feel so, so close to her at times, but the reality is that you've only known her for a month (although sometimes it feels like a lifetime.)

Maybe Carmilla hates horror movies? Maybe she wants to watch a chick flick that you can snuggle to or maybe a comed-

You try to stop yourself from worrying as you select "The Ring" as your date night movie. Horror and death for all.

But trying to stop worrying only works in theory. This will be the first time that Carmilla will have been inside your apartment and you feel oddly vulnerable.

A person's home exposes their raw elements- their friends and family, their joys and their sorrows. Maybe even their very personality, for surely there is a message written in a tidy room, another scrawled in the arrangement of their possessions. One only had to have the key, to be able to unlock the inner most secrets of a stranger, to be afforded small glimpses into another person's world.

Somehow, you're ready for this though. You want Carmilla to know you.

The thought of her in your bedroom, sitting on your couch washes away your fears momentarily, because this is Carmilla and you think that you could be falling in love with her.

But then your irrational fear comes flooding back and so you begin to obsessively clean your home like your friend Perry often does. It's oddly comforting and you find that Carmilla is the last thing on your mind as you scrub at mould collecting by your toilet.

So absorbed are you in your cleaning mission that you completely forget to get yourself ready for your date until half an hour prior to her arrival.

Oh my God. Am I going to be late for a date at my own house?

You frantically throw your cleaning gear aside and almost slip on the Easy Off Bam! Bottle that you had left lying beside the bathroom door.

You're probably going to smell of cleaning agent for your date, but you don't have the time to care about that as you frantically apply eyeliner and throw on the first plaid shirt you see. You struggle into a pair of skinny jeans, lunging left and right and wiggling around.

And then, before you know it, she's there.

You buzz her up the lift and throw open your door in delight when you hear a soft knock.

You catch your breath, because she never fails to be completely and utterly breathtaking (especially when wearing those shorts). She never minds when she catches you gazing at her like a lovesick puppy. You suspect it is because she does the same to you when you are not looking, although one can never be too sure with Carmilla.

Her eyes flick up and down your hastily assembled outfit, and she seems to like what she sees because she steps forward and pecks you softly on the lips- a quick hello.

You squeak in surprise and she chuckles at your bashfulness.

"So this is the apartment, huh cutie?"

You nod awkwardly and immediately guide her towards the couch, unwilling to show her the rest of your home, despite her curious glances.

When she sees the movie you have selected she smirks.

"Ahh…the Ring…you will die in seven days."

Her voice goes deep and throaty as she tries to imitate the creepy girl from the movie and you chuck a pillow at her head, trying to ignore what her voice is doing to you.

You snuggle with her on the couch. She wraps a comforting arm around after the first few minutes of the movie, as you hide your face into her shoulder. You feel so safe in her embrace and you silently thank yourself for picking a movie that gives you an excuse to be close to her.

Just as you suspected, Carmilla enjoys being vocal with horror movies and her sarcastic comments manage to lighten the building tension.

"No…NO YOU IDIOT! Why would be by yourself after the seven days had passed? Wha-"

And then your phone beeps just as the video that supposedly kills you has finished playing. Both of you jump and you let out a tiny scream and then burst out laughing. Seven days indeed.

You check your phone and see that LaFontaine has sent you a winky face emoji with the caption "Make a move already, crushes on broody philosophers."

Carmilla glances curiously at your phone and you hastily stow it on the table beside the couch.

She shakes her head and you resume snuggling with her. This time however, you try and watch the movie- perhaps horror will distract you from your growing urge to kiss her senseless.

You become absorbed in the film, and forget about Carmilla as you watch Samara crawl out of yet another television.

And then…you feel a sudden flush creeping, unbidden up your neck. You look around, confused, wondering what could have incited this embarrassing bodily function when you see Carmilla, looking at you.

You realise that she hasn't been watching the movie for a while now- rather she's watching you with undisguised adoration. When she sees that you've noticed, you expect her cool, apathetic mask to slide back into place.

But it doesn't.

She's looking at you with her heart in her eyes and it is terrifying, yet exhilarating and you don't want it to ever end.

Your relationship has become so much more than just dating, you realise and so, as the scream echo from your television screen you try and pluck up the courage to ask Carmilla to-

"Laura…would you do me the honour of becoming my girlfriend?"

You burst out laughing and Carmilla looks affronted. Samara is currently killing a person on your television, but neither of you notice.

You hurry to rectify the situation and your words begin to trip out of your mouth.

"Carm, I-I was just about to ask you the same thing and then you said it all formally and it was so, so cute…

(At this, Carmilla glares threateningly)

…and I would really like to be your girlfriend because I think that I- oh my god what is that creepy girl doing?"

Carmilla laughs throatily. She's used to your antics and has become quite talented at gleaning the gist of each of your rambles.

"Oh um, she just crawled out of the television and is now- oh God that's gross."

The two of you decide to switch the movie off and Carmilla turns to you and breaks into an ear-splitting grin.

"You really mean it then, creampuff? You'll be my girlfriend?"

"Of course I will! So long as that means that you have to provide me with cookies regularly. A girlfriend tax, as such."

And then the two of you are laughing together and Carm's moved closer and the next thing you know her hands are in your hair, pulling you closer. She kisses you softly.

It's a slow, lazy kiss and you smile into it as you run your hands up her arms and into her hair. You forget how to breathe, so long have you been kissing and when Carmilla gently slides her tongue into your mouth to run it lightly over yours, you can feel yourself growing cross-eyed.

After pausing for a breather, you kiss her again and again, because she is your girlfriend and kissing her is your new favourite activity. You never want to stop.

Your kisses become progressively heated until you find yourself pinned onto the couch by Carmilla, lips swollen, coherent thought difficult.

She leans down and you kiss again and then her hands are under your shirt and you think you will implo-

"Cupcake I'm so sorry, I got carried away." Carmilla looks mortified as she draws away from your kiss, looking down at you with concern.

Repressing the urge to whine at the loss of contact like a spoiled child, you clear your throat awkwardly and mumble:

"Carm…it's fine…I want to…umm…do this….with you."

"Are you sure buttercup?"

You nod and she smiles at you, and you wonder if it is you that had managed to bring out this happy, smiling Carmilla.

You hope so, because her smile is so, so beautiful and you never, ever want her to stop-

-Your ruminations on her smile are rudely interrupted when she relinquishes her position on top of you and moves off the couch. You protest vehemently and she merely chuckles infuriatingly:

"Didn't you have a bedroom you wanted to show me?"

A/N 2: Yep the next chapter is going to be smut, and I've already written it! You're welcome. Anyway, if you want to find me on tumblr, my URL is malacology. Come say hi or whatever.