So, maybe having Carmilla as a roommate wasn't the worst thing in the world.
She could be surprisingly understanding. And … cuddly. Laura was working on a midterm project at three in the morning when she began nodding off. Her head drooped lower and lower, finally resting on her TARDIS mug of hot chocolate. She started dreaming of a gigantic cookie that wanted to avenge his digested brethren by eating her. Laura woke up screaming bloody murder.
In retrospect, Laura found it odd that Carmilla was by her side as she woke up.
Perhaps Carmilla was studying next to her and wanted to use the desk. Or maybe Carmilla had super speed. Regardless of how she got there, Carmilla was there. And she gathered Laura up in her surprisingly muscular arms and carried her to the bed, laying Laura's head softly down on her yellow pillow. Laura had clutched at Carmilla's grey shirt, the soft fabric feeling like home. Carmilla gently untangled Laura's fingers but didn't let go of her hand. She carefully lowered her body onto the bed, and wrapped an arm safely around Laura's waist. Laura stiffened for a moment before yielding and curling up next to Carmilla. Carmilla threaded her fingers through Laura's hair, humming some old lullaby. Laura started mumbling an apology for being so childish and lame, but Carmilla placed three fingers on her lips, shushing her. She pulled Laura closer, burying her face in Laura's hair.
Carmilla's nose felt cool, the numbness spreading through Laura's body like a healing salve, wiping away all of her crippling fear. Laura slowly relaxed, sleep finally retaking her. Fighting to keep her eyelids open, Laura relented. The last thing she felt was Carmilla's fingers tracing asymmetrical patterns on her skin.
The bed was cold when Laura awoke. But as she blearily sat up, her fingers brushed against a stiff piece of paper. It read, in elegantly curving script: Went to get breakfast. Laura didn't expect much. Maybe an apple. Possibly some granola. But Carmilla surprised her. She came back in a whirl of leather and sunglasses, two perfectly toasted bagels with lox and cream cheese paired with a steaming cup of hot chocolate in her hands, and the school newspaper tucked under her arm. They'd shared the bagels and taken turns drinking from the cup while Carmilla read Laura the editorials.
Laura forgave Carmilla for not using the chore wheel then and there.
Carmilla could also be helpful. There was that time when Laura totally spilled hot chocolate over her handwritten lit paper. Laura pulled two all nighters finishing that paper as it was one of her final projects for that class. It really wasn't her fault that she got so behind on work. I mean, I went to Danny for help but all she wanted to do was watch Doctor Who with me and laugh about Carmilla, which isn't really the nicest thing to do. But I guess if someone doesn't really know Carmilla, it could be easy to make judgments. Long story short, study sessions with Danny had turned into full blown TV show marathons which did nothing to advance Laura's paper.
And she paid for it. Laura thought that at the end of the second night, there was probably more caffeine in her veins than actual blood, but she'd have to get LaF to test that out to be certain. Anyways, so Laura finally got the paper done and bound it using Perry's book binder (which, by the way, had some super weird attachments all over it, courtesy of LaF's crazy obsession with efficiency). But the instant she let out a whoop after flipping through the completed damn thing, she accidentally hip checked her TARDIS mug and spilled delicious, dark Belgium cocoa all over her literary masterpiece.
Laura stayed rooted to the spot with shock. Did that just happen? Am I dreaming? Please, God, let me be dreaming. I freaking hand wrote that whole thing after my laptop died on me! But Carmilla sprang into action. Again, Laura couldn't be sure if she was just super oblivious and Carmilla was just standing next to her when this happened, or if somehow Carmilla flew across the room, but all she knew was Carmilla tore off the soaking wet title page before the hot liquid could penetrate and handed the rest of the mercifully spotless paper to Laura. Laura had dissolved into a messy puddle of tears, groveling at Carmilla's feet and professing her thanks to the heavens, which admittedly wasn't the most professional thing she could've done. But Carmilla simply sat her down in a chair, made her a strong cup of tea, and sent Laura to class.
Laura forgave Carmilla for the constantly clogged shower drain after that.
Carmilla could also be loyal and brave. Laura went to the Zeta Omega Mu frat party, at Danny's behest. Danny couldn't attend because she was taking care of her sick sisters since a strain of antibiotic-resistant bacteria caught hold of the Summer Society House. Danny had texted Laura and asked—no rather demanded Laura come to the Society House and to bring LaFontaine with her. LaF immediately started taking bacteria samples and setting up cultures while Danny sent Laura some Summer Society paraphernalia and instructed her to show up at the party and act as the Summer's liaison.
Laura reluctantly agreed. She didn't really know why she agreed. She wasn't sure if she still felt the same way about Danny as she had two months ago. But, she still went because she was a good friend. And friends do things for each other no matter how rude they are. Right? Laura had thought it troubling she had a hard time convincing herself, but pushed her worries aside.
She didn't want to go alone into a fraternity house filled to the brim with unapologetic, loud musclemen. So, she dragged Carmilla along. Laura could've sworn that Carmilla originally was interested in the party, but the instant Laura suggested going together, Carmilla had started rolling her eyes and making gagging sounds. Laura had almost backed off. Until she realized Carmilla actually did want to go but still hated agreeing with her all the time, which she was doing a lot lately. Laura grinned then and redoubled her efforts, ignoring Carmilla's exaggerated miming of puking into the toilet.
Laura won.
And that explained why both of them were standing on the stoop of the Zeta house and why Laura rang the doorbell when Carmilla wouldn't. The instant Laura stepped into the house, something felt off. An overly excited and drunk Zeta thrust a huge pitcher of beer into her hands and slung a tan arm over her shoulders, making her stagger against the wall. The Zetas started chanting a weird drinking song that sounded suspiciously like the vampire hunters' America's Next Top Model anthem.
Laura felt terrified. That's when Carmilla stepped in. The look she gave the chanting Zetas would've frozen Satan's testicles. Silence spread out from their little trio, emanating in cold ripples until the entire house went quiet. Carmilla took the pitcher from Laura and dumped it into a trashcan before frog-marching Laura out the door and back to the dorm, forcibly reminding Laura of the time LaFontaine grabbed her drink and dumped it out. Then Carmilla gave a long winded speech about peer pressure and what exactly she'd like to do to those goons in the Zeta house which made the hair on Laura's neck stand up.
Laura grudgingly forgave Carmilla for not telling her about the closet.
Honestly, Laura realized Carmilla was a lot of things. And ninety percent of those things weren't the greatest. Some were downright evil. But if you could look past that, well, she wasn't too bad. Actually, Laura decided she was awesome. And maybe she was awesome because she was compassionate (she had tried to get a skinny cat to come into their dorm when the first snowfall started but got a faceful of scratches instead), giving (LaF accidentally set fire to their room and Carmilla went and bought LaF a new mattress, blankets, and a fridge), and trustworthy (Laura overheard LaF telling Carmilla they were going to ask Perry out on a surprise date and Carmilla never breathed a word even though she laughed at LaF when they were strategizing the asking part. Perry was completely taken by surprise.).
Carmilla was a lot. And Laura found herself liking all of it. Well, most of it. The messiness she could do without. But even then, sometimes when Laura sat on her bed and stared across at Carmilla's side, there was something beautiful about the way the sheets were rumpled, the way expressive drawings lay across the desk, the way slashed skinny jeans draped over the furniture, the way scattered books dotted the floor. Carmilla, Laura decided, lived like one of those artists you read about in books. The ones who were so brilliant they lay down their things in abstract patterns that only made sense to them. The ones who could look at how something was arranged and create meaning out of that. The ones who really understood life and why people did things. Yes, Carmilla was one of those people. And that, Laura thought, was enough to excuse the disorder that ruled the right side of Room 307.
Damn it.
Laura ran her fingers through her hair, counting her breaths as she tried to arrange her memories over the past few months.
It didn't help that she was lying in Carmilla's bed.
Under the sheets.
In Carmilla's arms.
(Laura had another nightmare so this was totally excusable.)
She took another steadying breath.
(Except it didn't steady anything at all.)
"I don't like Carmilla," Laura whispered to no one yet everyone at the same time.
The room stayed silent. Laura relaxed a tiny bit. Saying it out loud had more weight than thinking it. Especially since her own thoughts tended to negate everything about that statement. Laura closed her eyes and settled more comfortably into Carmilla's front, pulling her arm closer around her.
Behind her, Carmilla slowly opened one sorrowful eye.