Chapter Text
Laura looked around for the fourth time. There was no one else in the laundromat. There was no one about to walk in the door. It was the middle of the night. Probably nobody else was GOING to come in. She’d waited half an hour so far and nobody had come in or out. Only one person had walked by in the street. Normally she wouldn’t even consider this, but desperate times called for desperate measures and she’d been wearing these clothes for three days now and the pants had a Cheetos stain and the top had hot chocolate spilled down the front, and all the rest of her clothes were in the washer already with the detergent added.
She closed her eyes, said a silent prayer to whatever deity might be so kind as to take pity on her, and slipped out of her clothes, feeling extremely exposed in her bra and underwear. She tossed her clothes into the washer, put her money in and started it, then turned around again quickly to make sure nobody had entered (which logically she knew was stupid because the door hadn’t chimed) and that nobody was suddenly leering at her through the window.
The coast was clear. She was alone. Very exposed, and whoever reviewed the security footage later was going to get quite the eyeful, but at least she’d hopefully never have to look that person in the eye.
She sank to the floor behind a row of washers so that she was mostly hidden from view, but could still see if anyone entered the laundromat and started to read the book she’d brought along.
The rush of water and the hum of the machine were a comforting sound backdrop, and as the minutes ticked by, Laura started to relax. It would be fine. She’d do her laundry, through some actual CLEAN clothes on, and she’d be gone before anyone could catch her in her underwear in a laundromat.
Laura was just about to start a new chapter when the chiming of the door being opened made her stiffen.
She placed the book in her lap and crossed her arms awkwardly across the chest, which would have been fine if it hadn’t pushed her boobs up, so then she uncrossed her arms and slung one arm across the top of one boob with her hand holding on to the opposite shoulder, and stuck her other arm kind of blocking her other boob and part of her stomach. It was not a remotely comfortable position to sit in.
She leaned a little to peer down the row of washing machines and almost fell over, having to break her attempt at modesty to catch herself. She repositioned and peered again.
A thin girl, probably about her own age, with dark hair and dark eyes, dressed in a loose black tank top and black leather pants was carrying a large, army green canvas bag over her shoulder and headed directly for her.
Laura felt herself begin to panic. Why couldn’t this…okay, if she was honest…remarkably attractive stranger have used one of the machines at the far end, near the door.
The girl noticed Laura as she approached and raised a curious eyebrow, but said nothing. She stopped at the washing machine next to the one with Laura’s whites in it. Laura couldn’t help admiring the girl’s muscles flex as she dropped the bag.
Not a good time to find someone attractive, Laura reminded herself.
Without a word, the girl opened up the bag, then started dumping the contents into the washing machine.
Laura stared at her aghast. They weren’t her clothes, but STILL! “You can’t do that!”
The girl paused and scowled at her. “Is there a nudity requirement for using the machines here?”
Oh, god. Her voice sent chills down Laura’s spine. Her tone managed to somehow be sultry and sarcastic at the same time.
Laura blushed. “No, I…Emergency laundry night, right?”
The girl stared blankly at her.
“Anyway, you really need to sort your clothes. Darks and lights?”
The girl continued to meet her gaze unblinkingly and expressionless. Laura could feel her cheeks getting hotter by the second.
Finally, the girl smirked and said, “Are you the laundry police? Will you arrest me if I throw everything in one load? Is there a pair of handcuffs hidden on your person? Because you seem to be lacking in pockets.”
Laura had possibly never felt more self-conscious in her life and was really regretting her decision to say anything at all. What did she care if this stranger’s clothes all came out grey and faded? “Well, no, of course not. It’s your laundry.”
The girl resumed dumping laundry into the machine.
“I just…the colors might bleed,” Laura made one last attempt, though she wasn’t really sure why.
The girl ignored her, overfilled the machine, put her detergent in and started it, then moved to the one next to it and began to dump more of her laundry in it.
That’s when Laura noticed it: the dark stains on some of the clothes. Dark brown stains. Almost like…
Oh great, I’m stuck almost naked in a laundromat with a really hot axe murderer, she thought to herself, wishing she’d thought to bring some of the bear spray her father insisted she stay supplied with along to the laundromat.
Laura began to glance around for potential makeshift weapons, but unless she’d gained superstrength so she could lift the washing machines and was just unaware of it, her only option was her paperback book, and that wasn’t really going to do anything beyond maybe give the girl a paper cut.
The girl finished loading the second washing machine and started it, then hopped up onto it and eyed Laura curiously.
Laura felt very exposed, and not just because she was just in her underwear. The girl’s gaze was almost predatory.
Like she’s contemplating making you her next victim, Laura thought, then she instantly wished that she hadn’t.
“Do you always do your laundry practically naked in public places in the middle of the night?” the girl finally asked.
“NO! No. I…I had finals this week and I’ve been so busy studying for them for the past few weeks I didn’t have a chance to do laundry and literally everything I owned has been worn multiple times, and I didn’t want to pay to do extra loads of laundry, and I was literally down to my last pair of clean underwear, and…” And I’m blabbering away to someone who is very probably a serial killer. Go ahead and give her your name and address and tell her nobody knows you’re here, while you’re at it. “No. I don’t usually do this.”
The girl looked vaguely amused by Laura’s ramble, and her unwavering gaze was really starting to make Laura uncomfortable.
“And the unsolicited laundry advice?”
“That was…I was just trying to be helpful,” Laura replied, trying not to sound too defensive and failing miserably. “Could have told you to soak your clothes in cold water to help get the blood stains out, but kept that to myself,” she muttered under her breath.
“What?” the girl asked with a smirk.
Laura was instantly a little alarmed that maybe she hadn’t muttered that quite as quietly as she had thought. “Nothing,” she replied with a fake smile.
The girl raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow and continued to look at Laura.
Laura squirmed uncomfortably. Plus her leg itched and she couldn’t scratch it without uncovering herself. Why couldn’t this weird, probably murderous, though admittedly really attractive girl look away?
“You all right there, cupcake?”
Laura didn’t meet her gaze and did her best not to blush. “Hmm?”
“You don’t look very comfortable. Are you going to stay like that the whole night? Because you realize that at some point, you’re going to have to get your clothes out of the washing machine, right?”
Laura, for some reason, had not actually considered that point. Until now. Now she could very definitely see the flaw in her plan. Even if she could somehow keep herself kind of covered as she stood and moved to the washing machine, she was very definitely going to need her hands to transfer her wet clothes to the dryer. Laura relaxed her arms, defeated.
“So much for modesty.”
The girl hopped off the washing machine and, without warning, pulled her tank top off and held it out to her.
Laura’s jaw dropped open as she took in the girl’s frame, very definitely including her really very nice cleavage as displayed by her black, lacy bra. Okay, maybe that was the majority of what Laura took in. She swallowed hard.
The girl managed to look simultaneously amused and impatient. “Are you gonna take it? Or continue to stare at my tits?”
“Huh?” Laura asked, her gaze guiltily snapping up to the girl’s face.
“The shirt? I mean, I can put it back on, but you seem to mind your lack of clothes, and it doesn’t really bother me, so…”
“Oh,” Laura replied. “Thanks.”
Laura stood awkwardly, forgetting to grab her book from her lap before it fell to the floor and took the shirt from the girl. The girl looked Laura up and down as Laura plucked the shirt from her hand, and Laura couldn’t help but blush.
Laura slipped the tank top on and instantly felt more comfortable, until she remembered that she was now hanging out with a half-naked someone who had likely, at the very least, committed fairly grizzly crimes, and she was now wearing their shirt. She wondered if that made her an accessory. Maybe the girl was looking to get another set of DNA on her clothes to cast doubt on them belonging to her.
Laura surreptitiously began checking the shirt for blood stains, but she couldn’t see any.
“Something wrong?”
Laura looked up at the girl and shook her head quickly. “No, I was just…” A handy lie evaded her in her time of need.
“Yes?”
“Trying to tell if it was black or navy,” she finished lamely, internally berating herself for such an obvious lie.
The girl didn’t look convinced, but she still looked mildly amused. “It’s black.”
“Oh. Well, thanks.”
The girl nodded and hopped back onto the washing machine, leaning back on her hands and surveying the rest of the laundromat.
Laura bit her lower lip as she noticed the flex of muscles in the girl’s arms. The girl’s jawline was to die for (though hopefully not literally). Her breasts were…
Laura swallowed hard and became suddenly acutely aware that she was staring at this girl that she didn’t even know the name of and who had an awfully suspicious amount of blood on her clothes. Really, she should be making better life choices.
“Like what you see?” the girl asked, and Laura’s eyes flicked back up to meet hers.
“I wasn’t…I…”
The girl smirked.
“I mean, you’re the one that just walked in here and stripped off your shirt.”
“Yeah, I’m the only one that’s done THAT in here tonight.”
Laura really wished that the girl didn’t have a point.
Another thought occurred to her about her current situation with a potential killer: the girl was between her and the door.
Laura contemplated how to remedy that. She could move down the row of washing machines, but that would take her initially closer to the girl. She could move to another row, but that might alert the girl to her suspicions and expedite any potential murder plans. Option three was to stay where she was and hope for the best.
Laura opted for option one. She could probably get one good strike in if the girl suddenly attacked. She’d never been more appreciative of her dad enrolling her in krav maga at age eight.
As subtly as she could, Laura sidled along the row of washing machines, pressing against the machines opposite from where the girl was perched.
The girl watched her with far more interest than Laura would have liked.
“Going somewhere?” the girl asked when Laura was almost past her.
Laura jumped. “Oh, um, no…Where would I be going in my underwear and a stranger’s shirt?” she asked, closing the lid of a washing machine opposite the girl and hopping up onto it.
The girl shrugged. “You tell me, sweetheart.”
Laura offered her what she hoped was an innocent smile. “So,” she began in as conversational a tone as she could muster. “What’s your name?” Not like I’m taking mental notes to give to the cops later, she added in her head.
The girl studied her for a moment longer than was necessary, then replied, “Carmilla,” in a voice that could seduce an angel to sin.
“I’m Laura,” Laura replied, then immediately wondered why she’d given a potential serial killer her name. Yep, that’s me! Laura “good at poor decision-making” Hollis! “Nice to meet you.”
Carmilla gave a slight nod, but didn’t return the insincere sentiment.
Laura sat there awkwardly for a few minutes, unsure of where to look. She would glance at Carmilla’s face, trying to take note of details in case she was questioned by police later, but then she’d realize she was staring and look away self-consciously before attempting it again.
“Is there something I can help you with?” Carmilla finally asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
“No. I…Sorry.”
Why did this potentially violent criminal have to be so damn attractive? Laura wondered as her gaze drifted back to Carmilla and her oh-so-alluring cleavage.
“Sooo,” Laura began in an attempt to break the awkward silence, “what brings you to the laundromat at almost two in the morning?”
Carmilla gave her a look that clearly suggested Laura might not be the sharpest tool in the shed. “…Laundry.”
“Right, no, of course,” Laura said, feeling absolutely ridiculous. Conversations should not be this difficult. Besides, weren’t serial killers supposed to be charming and charismatic so they could lure victims to their deaths? “I just meant, like this specific laundromat.”
“Convenience.”
“And so late?”
“I’m not the only one here. Why are you here this late?”
“I wasn’t about to strip down in the middle of the day surrounded by people.”
“Well, lucky me that I get the show,” Carmilla replied dryly, a smirk once again playing across her lips.
Laura blushed. Is that flirting? Is Carmilla hitting on me? No, of course not. Don’t be ridiculous.
“I’m a bit of a night owl,” Carmilla added after a moment.
Laura nodded. “Convenience, you said. Does that mean you live in the area?”
“I’m staying with family, at the moment.”
Oh. Family. Well, that was harmless enough, right? Unless it was THEIR blood on Carmilla’s clothes. Oh, God, what kind of a monster slaughtered their own family?
“Lots of family?” Laura asked.
“My mother and brother,” Carmilla replied.
“And they don’t have laundry at their house?”
“My mother’s a bit old fashioned. She has a service that does her laundry for her. I stay in the guest quarters and don’t really have access to it. Besides, I prefer to be self-reliant.”
Or you don’t want the cleaning service to see all of the blood stains from your murder spree.
“Oh.”
“Any more questions in this interrogation of yours?”
“I’m not…It’s not an interrogation! Why would you think this is an interrogation? I’m just making conversation with the girl who gave me her shirt. No interrogations happening here.” Yet.
Carmilla raised an eyebrow and smirked. “If you say so, creampuff.”
Creampuff? Is that some code word she uses for “next victim”?
“I do,” Laura replied stubbornly.
The buzzer on the washing machine made Laura jump.
Carmilla smirked, then looked at her expectantly.
Laura squirmed self-consciously. Going to move her clothes meant moving back past Carmilla and further away from the door. She really had not thought any of this through.
“You gonna do something about those? Or you good in a stranger’s shirt and your underwear for the rest of the night?”
Laura slid off the washing machine and, doing her best to stay on the far side of the aisle until she was past Carmilla, then moved to the washing machine and started transferring her lights to a dryer against the wall. She was aware of Carmilla’s eyes on her as she moved.
Sizing up her prey, Laura thought.
She hated that her feet practically came off the ground when she had to reach all the way to the bottom of the washer to grab the last few items, and when she stood up, Carmilla was smirking, her eyes raising slowly to Laura’s face.
“Like what you see?” Laura grumbled self-consciously, before she could think better about antagonizing the girl with suspicious blood stains all over her clothes.
“Yeah, actually. Not bad.”
Laura blushed and bustled towards the dryer, shoving the last of her clothes in. She inserted her money and started the machine, flinching as the zip from her grey sweater clanged loudly against the inside of the machine.
Even though she was anticipating it, she jumped when the buzzer on the second washing machine went off.
“Jumpy,” Carmilla noted.
Laura glared. Why did Carmilla have to be sitting right next to that washing machine? Why couldn’t she have sat further away?
Laura tried not to envision Carmilla slamming her head down into the washer, or stabbing her in the back as she leaned over to grab her clothes. Her dad would never forgive her if she got murdered. He’d never forgive himself, really.
Laura sighed as she began to transfer her clothes, glancing sidelong at Carmilla from time to time.
Carmilla was watching her in amusement, and Laura was not a fan.
“You take the sorting thing seriously, huh?” Carmilla commented as Laura started the second dryer.
Laura eyed her suspiciously. “It’s better for your clothes.”
“I’ve never had any issues.”
But apparently YOU don’t care if there are blood stains on your clothes.
Laura shrugged.
She eyed the seat she’d taken before and weighed the pros and cons of walking past Carmilla yet again. When the dryers went off, she’d have to move past her again. Or she could stay over here and be further away from the door. Neither option seemed enticing.
“You all right there, cupcake?”
“Hmm?”
“You look like you’re making life or death decisions.”
“Funny you should phrase it like that,” Laura muttered under her breath.
“Oh? Why?”
Crap. Laura hadn’t realized that Carmilla would be able to hear that, especially over the dryer.
“What?”
“Why is it funny that I phrased it like that?”
Carmilla didn’t look offended, merely mildly entertained.
“No reason?”
Carmilla raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“You always say strange things without reason?”
“Is this my interrogation?” Laura challenged.
Carmilla smirked. “Maybe. There are more interesting things I could ask, though. Why don’t you come back and take a seat.”
Laura eyed the washing machine again. She swallowed hard. “Okay.”
Carmilla hopped down as she walked past, and stepped toward her. Laura instinctively moved back against the washing machine, and Carmilla leaned forward and put her arms on either side of her, trapping her in place.
Oh, God! This is it! This is when she kills me! Act quick!
“What do you –“
Laura cut off Carmilla’s question mid-sentence with a swift hand to the throat. Carmilla doubled over, choking as Laura made a dash for the exit, completely forgetting her current attire, or lack thereof. Then again, her life was more important than her modesty anyway.
Laura caught a blur out of the corner of her eye, and then found herself pinned to the nearby washing machine, by an annoyed looking Carmilla.
Carmilla’s hands covered her own, and, though she struggled against her, her hands didn’t budge. Carmilla was crazy strong.
…And crazy fast.
…And she’d recovered awfully fast from that blow to the throat that should have cut off her air supply at least temporarily.
Uh-oh.
“WHAT. WAS. THAT.” Carmilla demanded through grit teeth.
“I was…It was…Sorry?”
Carmilla glared. “You’re SORRY you tried to kill me?”
“Well, see…It’s just…It was self-defense?”
“From what, exactly?”
Carmilla’s eyes were daring her to answer. Laura gulped nervously.
“Umm…I thought…Maybe…”
“Yes?” Carmilla’s tone suggested that she was quickly losing patience.
“Look, in my defense you had blood all over your clothes. It really was a logical assumption to think this…”
“Think what?” Carmilla growled.
Laura contemplated her options. None of them were enticing. There was also, she was starting to contemplate, the slightest possibility that she might have read the situation wrong. “You weren’t attacking me to kill me?”
Carmilla rolled her eyes. “Not exactly.”
“But the blood on your clothes! I saw it! And…You’re really fast. Like REALLY fast. And strong.”
Carmilla let go of Laura and stood back, surveying her with a sigh. She licked the corner of her lips, then sighed again. Then she bared her teeth.
Laura jumped back.
Or, at least, she tried to. It would have worked better if there wasn’t a washing machine just behind her. Instead, lurched her lower back into the machine and winced in pain.
“Ow! Fuck! Also, why do you have fangs?!?”
“You catch on quick, don’t you, sweetheart,” Carmilla responded dryly.
Laura glared as she rubbed her back.
“Those are really good fake ones, right? What, you just put them in to scare unsuspecting girls in laundromats?”
Carmilla ran her tongue along her fangs. “Not fake, and mostly they only come out when I want a snack.”
Laura straightened nervously. She was joking, right? She had to be joking.
“Snack as in…cookies?”
Carmilla locked eyes with her and shook her head. A smirk formed on her lips. She took a step towards Laura, who glanced hopelessly at the exit.
“Snack as in…people?”
“I don’t drain them dry, if that puts you at ease.”
“Not especially! It’s not every day I do laundry with a vampire!”
Carmilla let out a low chuckle.
“Don’t suppose you only eat creepy old guys?”
Carmilla shook her head again. “My tastes lie elsewhere, when I have a choice.”
Laura gulped nervously.
“If it helps, I ate earlier. Hence the blood. Every once in a while, it can get a little messy.”
“You should have soaked it in cold water first if you expect it to come out.”
Carmilla raised an eyebrow. “Okay.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, what?” Laura demanded, curiosity winning out over better judgment.
“That’s just not the usual response to finding out someone’s a vampire.”
“Oh.” Laura considered this for a moment. “Should I be cowering in fear?”
Carmilla smirked. “No. I like this.”
Laura nodded, not entirely sure why that response had brought a blush to her cheeks.
“So if you weren’t trying to kill me, or, you know, eat me, what were you trying to do?”
Carmilla looked down at her hands and examined her fingernails for a second, then glanced up at Laura. “Really?”
Laura frowned in confusion. What else could she have been doing? She examined the evidence: first there was the half-naked vampire standing before her, then there was the way she’d offered Laura her shirt, then there was the way she kept watching her like she was prey…or…
“Oh!” Laura’s blush deepened. “Really? You were…”
Carmilla rolled her eyes and hopped back onto the washing machine.
“What is wrong with me tonight?” she mumbled, seemingly to herself.
So the sexy, non-serial killer (hopefully, at least) vampire had been hitting on her? That was…unexpected. Surprisingly, Laura realized, not unwelcome, though.
Oh. Well, that was probably not a good thing. Or not an intelligent response, at least.
Laura brought her eyes back up to meet Carmilla’s. Carmilla was eyeing her with reserved interest.
“Let me guess, this is your first year away from home?”
Laura nodded.
“And home is some small town where nothing ever really happens?”
Laura didn’t answer, but she felt an embarrassed flush creeping up her neck.
Carmilla sighed again. “Isn’t that always the way…”
“What?”
Carmilla shook her head. “Nothing.”
Laura frowned. “It’s not like I’ve never left home before. My dad took me on trips. We visited museums and took tours. And I’ve been to…summer camp,” she finished lamely, aware of Carmilla’s increased amusement as she spoke.
“Naïve, provincial girl…I shouldn’t, and yet I’m curious…”
“I’m not naïve. And…curious?”
“Never mind, cupcake.”
Laura hated that response. It only ever served to pique her curiosity. “Curious about what?”
“Curious about things I should know better about. I’m far too old to have even a passing interest in you, and yet…”
Laura blushed. “How old are you?”
“Old enough to know better,” came the reply as Carmilla’s eyes dragged over her body.
Laura swallowed hard. She felt suddenly extremely exposed. She glanced down. Of course, she WAS extremely exposed. Oh, great.
Laura hopped back onto the washing machine across from Carmilla and crossed her legs, trying once again for a modicum of decency, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. She studied Carmilla, who looked back at her unflinchingly.
“Just to be clear, you’re not actually planning on killing me?”
Carmilla smirked. “No, I’m not.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
“Guess that’s just a risk you’re gonna have to take, sweetheart. At least until your clothes are dry.”
Carmilla had a point. Unless she wanted to go parading around outside with who knows who or what around, wearing almost nothing, Laura wasn’t going anywhere, potentially murderous vampire or not.
The silence between them was tense until Carmilla leaned back on her hands and looked up at the ceiling, then closed her eyes. When her eyes didn’t open again quickly, Laura began to wonder if it was possible for a vampire (or anyone, really) to actually fall asleep in that position. As attractive as Carmilla was to look at, and, God, did she really need to stop staring at Carmilla’s chest, looking at her potentially sleeping was not the most exciting way to pass the time. Laura eyed the spot on the floor where her book had been carelessly discarded earlier. It probably wasn’t wise to wake a vampire, but she still wasn’t convinced Carmilla was actually asleep, and her book would certainly make the time pass faster. It wasn’t like she was being rude. There was hardly any scintillating conversation happening.
Laura slid off the washing machine and tiptoed towards her book.
“Get tired of checking me out?”
Laura didn’t have to turn to know that Carmilla was smirking again.
“I just…I thought you were…I wasn’t...” Laura turned defensively back towards Carmilla, who was once again watching her in amusement.
Carmilla shrugged. “It’s okay. I didn’t mind.”
Laura felt her cheeks flushing with color. “I thought you were asleep.”
“No. Just…thinking. Remembering.”
“Remembering what?” Laura asked.
Carmilla eyed her for a moment, and then it seemed as if Carmilla were looking through her, at a different person in a different time, perhaps. A flash of sadness passed across her face, and then Carmilla smiled grimly.
“Past mistakes.”
Wait, does that mean I’m a mistake? How can I be a mistake? I’m not…We haven’t… Laura wished that her mind hadn’t instantly gone to possible mistakes that she could make with Carmilla. Well, really, she wished that all of the potential mistakes her brain had conjured up weren’t sexual in nature. She swallowed hard, and when she glanced at Carmilla’s face she found the smirk firmly settled across her lips once again.
Maybe not killing me is the mistake?
Laura grabbed her book and made her way back to the washing machine she’d been using as a seat. She climbed back up, not so gracefully, and then looked expectantly at Carmilla.
“Don’t let me stop you, princess,” Carmilla said, nodding to the book.
Laura frowned. She opened her mouth to protest the latest nickname, but Carmilla’s attention had already shifted. Laura sighed and opened her book.
It took her a little while to find her place, and even longer to stop needing to reread lines because she hadn’t been paying enough attention. Finally, the story started to pull her back in and she was almost able to forget about the extremely silent, ridiculously sexy vampire sitting across from her.
When the buzzer for Carmilla’s washing went off, Laura jumped and dropped her book.
“Still jumpy, huh?” Carmilla asked in amusement as she somehow managed to make sliding off a washing machine look sexy.
Laura glowered at her over her book, but Carmilla was already opening the washing machine and leaning over to fish out her clothes.
Don’t look at her ass. Her eyes immediately disobeyed. Goddamn, she was sexy. Those leather pants clung to Carmilla’s figure so attractively. Laura bit her lower lip and told herself she’d only look for a few more second, and then she’d behave herself. It was a good bargain, but when Carmilla stood and turned, her arms full of wet clothes, Laura was still staring.
“Enjoying the view?”
Laura cleared her throat and did her best to appear innocent, but it was clear Carmilla didn’t buy the act for a second.
That’s when Laura’s eyes fell on the clothes that Carmilla was putting into the dryer. Laura shook her head. She couldn’t just let her ruin them.
“Wait! You can’t put them in the dryer!”
Carmilla eyed her with one eyebrow raised. “Because?” she demanded, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
“Do you want the blood stains to set in, or would you actually like to be able to wear those clothes in public again sometime?” Laura shot back. Laura put her book down and jumped down off the washing machine. She marched over to Carmilla before she could think better of it, and began taking the wet clothes out of her hands.
“Look, see? There’s still blood. Did you run these on hot? You need cold water.”
Laura led Carmilla to the lone slop sink in the corner and started to lay out the stained clothing over the side. She sighed.
“Hang on. I’ve got some stain remover.” Laura went back to where her laundry bag sat on the floor and fished out her stain remover spray, then went back to the sink, only to find a vaguely amused Carmilla watching her every move.
The buzzer on the second washing machine went off, but this time, Laura didn’t flinch. She was too busy being aware of Carmilla blatantly checking her out.
“YOU enjoying the view?” Laura challenged, self-consciously.
“Very much so,” came the unabashed reply.
Laura did her best to ignore it, though she knew that the blush on her cheeks gave her away. “Right, well, anyway, here.” Laura began to spray the splotches of blood, rubbed the stain remover in a little, then put the articles of clothing into the sink, making sure it was plugged first. She began to run cold water into it. “Next?” she demanded, holding out her hand.
She swallowed hard when a lacy purple bra was placed in her hand. “Really?”
Carmilla shrugged. “Not all the feeding happens fully clothed.”
Laura tried not to imagine those circumstances, and failed miserably. She was decently sure that Carmilla had given her the bra in expectation of a reaction and she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction. She applied the same treatment to the bra, then turned back to the clothes still in Carmilla’s arms.
She picked through a variety of mostly tops, and a few pairs of pants, and put them all in to soak. Then Carmilla held up a pair of lacy underwear. Laura swallowed hard. “Okay, really?”
“Relax. Not feeding related, although feeding on the inner thigh can be quite –“
“Okay, you know what? I think you can soak take care of those yourself.”
Carmilla smirked as Laura stepped back and handed over the stain remover.
“Wait, so are you implying that vampires get their periods?” she asked after a moment.
“The joys of living forever,” Carmilla responded dryly, dropping the underwear into the cold water.
“Okay, you should let those soak for a while, and you should probably get whatever is stained in the other load and add put it in to soak too.”
“Doesn’t leave much to go in the dryer.”
“Well, maybe you should have thought of that before you put the clothes in the washing machine covered in blood to begin with.”
“Please. It’s not that much blood.”
Laura fished a long-sleeved top out of the sink. “Really? What did you do here? Wipe your mouth on your sleeve?”
Carmilla shrugged. “It was handy.”
Laura dropped the shirt back into the sink and rolled her eyes. “Classy. Aren’t vampires supposed to be sophisticated or something?”
“Sophistication can be draining. Every once in a while, wiping your mouth on your sleeve is convenient. Besides, have you seen current media representation of vampires? I don’t know that ‘sophisticated’ is really the right word.”
Laura considered Spike from Buffy and, shudder, Edward from Twilight and had to concede the point. “Fine.”
Carmilla moved back to the dryers with the unstained clothes still cradled in one arm, and shoved them into the one next to one Laura was using. Laura followed her, then froze as Carmilla rounded on her with a smirk.
“Why? Is sophistication something you go for?”
Laura swallowed hard. “It…I-“
“Expensive wine in ornately decorated rooms with high ceilings and elaborate chandeliers? Dinner parties catered by high-paid chefs where the dress-code is formal? Waltzing across ballrooms clad in fancy clothes?”
With each question, Carmilla moved closer and Laura inched backwards until her back was pressed against the wall of dryers and Carmilla was close enough she could feel her breath on her face.
“Is that your idea of romance, sweetheart? Were you hoping for someone to whisk you away to exotic palaces and drafty castles where maids would wait on you hand and foot and you could lead an elegant life of sophistication?”
Carmilla’s mouth was mere inches from her ear now, and Laura couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down her spine.
Laura’s mouth was dry as she opened and closed it, trying desperately to come up with a response, but all she could think was that Carmilla’s bra was ghosting against her crossed arms and Carmilla’s exquisite body was so close.
Do NOT think about kissing her.
Her eyes darted to Carmilla’s lips.
“I –“
“Sorry to disappoint,” Carmilla said, pushing off of the dryers and moving away from Laura. “I’ve spent my time in sophistication, and while waltzing can indeed be…” Carmilla’s gaze clouded over for a moment as she let the sentence trailed off, and Laura was once again struck by the idea that Carmilla was lost in a different time. “Anyway, don’t go looking for sophistication in a laundromat at two in the morning.”
Laura had to admit that that was probably sound advice. She didn’t move. Part of her was still recovering from the proximity to Carmilla. She would never had admitted it aloud, but the brief moment of closeness had gotten her kinda hot and bothered. Which was stupid. Definitely stupid. Definitely not something she should try to make happen again. Or want to happen again. Definitely not. At all.
Carmilla had resumed picking through her remaining wet clothes in the two washing machines and Laura was just a little pleased to see her setting aside the clothes that still had blood stains on them.
“So if something’s already been through the dryer with blood on it…?”
“Good luck getting it out,” Laura replied, and watched, vaguely appalled, as Carmilla tossed a blood-stained shirt into the ‘go ahead and put in the dryer’ pile. “Did no one ever teach you to do laundry?”
Carmilla grimaced. “I had servants growing up, and I don’t think Maman has lifted a finger towards housework in centuries. Why would she, when there are so many people that are so easy to control?”
“So your mother is a –“
“She’s not my birth mother, but I suppose you could call her my ‘rebirth’ mother,” Carmilla sighed, and Laura didn’t have to be super perceptive to pick up on some tension there.
“You two don’t get along?”
Carmilla let out a bark of laughter and then smiled ruefully. “You could say that. Maman is…she’s the type of vampire that would gladly, and does, have other vampires cowering in fear.”
Oh. Well, that didn’t sound good. Laura thanked her lucky stars that it was Carmilla, not her vampiric mother, that was here at the laundromat with her. Still, it was probably wise to put as much space between herself and this family of vampires as possible as soon as her laundry was done.
Laura frowned at the ease with which she was accepting this whole vampire thing. Maybe she was losing it. Maybe this whole thing was some vivid hallucination brought on by extreme self-consciousness at doing laundry in her underwear in public. She pinched herself and blinked hard a few times, but Carmilla was still standing there before her. If it was a hallucination, it was an awfully vivid and persistent one.
“So where do you come from? Who were you before you were…a vampire? How did your mother turn you into one? Is it just like a biting thing? Is there some blood exchanged?”
“Back to the interrogation, then?”
“I’m not interrogating,” Laura replied defensively.
“No?”
“I’m making conversation.”
“Ah.”
Carmilla finished sorting through her clothes and shoved the ones she’d deemed not in need of soaking into a dryer and started it.
Laura waited expectantly for some answers. She waited as Carmilla carried the rest of her clothes to the sink and began to treat them with stain remover. By the time Carmilla had returned, Laura was standing next to the dryers, arms crossed across her chest, foot tapping impatiently.
“Well??”
“Well, what?”
“Are you going to answer any of my questions?”
Carmilla smirked. “Got to keep some air of mystery, don’t I, cupcake?”
Laura glowered. She didn’t like when questions went unanswered. It probably wasn’t wise to pester a vampire who didn’t feel like sharing, though. She bit her tongue.
Carmilla settled back on a washing machine and examined her nails, then looked up to find Laura still standing by the dryers.
Carmilla sighed. “Oh, come on, princess. Don’t sulk.”
“I’m not sulking,” Laura replied, vaguely aware that she sounded just a touch too much like a petulant child.
“Okay, fine, I’ll answer one more of your invasive questions. Will that make you happy?”
No. Laura knew from experience that would only make her more curious. If she was willing to answer one, maybe Laura could get her to answer more.
“Well?” Carmilla prompted. “Which question do you want an answer to?”
“All of them.”
Carmilla gave her a grin that wasn’t entirely kind, but there was a gleam in her eyes that almost made her look impressed.
Laura puffed out her chest and stood a little taller, not that the effect was anything near as imposing as she’d have liked. It was hard to be imposing at 5’2”.
“All right, since you look so cute standing there trying to intimidate me, I’ll be nice and give you two answers. Choose wisely, Lois Lane.”
Lois Lane…Well, that was probably the most accurate nickname yet. Laura could live with that one. She was a journalism major, after all.
“Okay, how did you become a vampire?”
Carmilla chuckled, a low, sexy, vaguely melodic sound that Laura couldn’t help finding enticing. She stepped closer to Carmilla, in anticipation of the answer, she told herself.
“I thought I said to choose wisely. You’re not going to be very satisfied by my answer to that one.”
“Why not?”
“Because I really don’t know the details. I’ve never asked. Maman isn’t big on the sharing, especially when it comes to power. I was murdered, and then Maman pried apart the jaws of death to save me.”
“You were murdered?”
“Is that your second question?” Carmilla questioned with a glint in her eye that said she knew it wasn’t.
“No.” Laura scowled. How could she not elaborate on that? It sounded like a kind of important moment in personal history. It was not a good use of a second question, though, and Carmilla had been right: Laura wasn’t happy with the answer to the first.
“You really never asked how she saved you from literally death itself?”
“Is THAT your second question?”
“You know it’s not!” Laura huffed.
“Well, are you going to get around to your second question at some point? Or shall I sit here in suspense.”
Laura glared. She wasn’t an idiot. She could tell she was being mocked. She wanted her second question to wipe the smirk off of Carmilla’s face. “Give me a minute. I’m thinking.”
“Don’t break anything, cupcake,” Carmilla replied before idly examining her nails.
Laura glared harder. Right, then. Second question. What should it be?
“Tell me about your human life.” She blurted it before she really had a chance to think it through, but the smirk does indeed fade from Carmilla’s face.
“That’s not exactly a question, poptart.”
Poptart? What is it with her and sweet foods? Laura wondered. Aloud she asked, “Does that mean I get another question?”
Carmilla shot her a quick grin. “Nice try.”
“Well?” Laura prompted a moment later.
Carmilla looked at her and sighed heavily, then she seemed to look past her, and she began to speak. “I was a countess once. Countess Mircalla Karnstein of Styria in Austria.”
“Countess? Mircalla?”
“Are you going to listen? Or do you not really want to know?”
Laura mocked locking her lips and throwing away the key, then she moved closer as Carmilla continued.
“Even though Austria was involved in war with the Ottoman Empire at the time –“
“The Ottoman Empire? Didn’t that dissolve in, like, the 1920s?”
“I thought you weren’t going to interrupt.”
“I know, but, really, how old are you?”
Carmilla rolled her eyes. “As I was saying, despite war, I led a privileged, sheltered life. There were lavish meals, plenty of servants, elegant balls…And then I was murdered and Mircalla died.”
“And Carmilla rose from the dead.”
Carmilla nodded. “It’s a jolly little tale, don’t you think?”
Laura frowned.
“So, is your curiosity satisfied, Lauronica Mars?”
Lauronica Mars? Laura had to concede that that was pretty clever. She liked the comparison too. Veronica would NOT drop the subject. Not with this many unanswered questions swarming in her head. “Not even close.”
Carmilla sighed. “Of course, it’s not. Guess I’m just fascinating.”
“It’s not like I meet vampires every day.”
“That you’re aware of.”
Laura hadn’t considered that. How many other vampires were wondering around? How many of them had she passed on the street and had no idea as to their true identities?
“Are they all such messy eaters?”
“Well, some of them don’t care if their dinner lives or dies.”
Laura swallowed hard. That had NOT been a subtle reminder that the person she was with could probably kill her at any moment, should she chose to do so. It had been a neon sign flashing that fact in her face. “Right. Well…Lucky for me, you care?”
“I’m not a fan of the angry mobs that form when you’re too obvious. Pitchforks and torches are overused and overrated.”
“So, you’ve been chased off by angry mobs?”
“I’m fairly certain that I’ve let you get away with more than two questions, here.”
“Exactly, so what’s a few more?” Laura suggested hopefully.
“You are…intriguing.”
Laura wasn’t sure why the word sent a shiver down her spine. Maybe it was the way that Carmilla ran her tongue across her lips just before she said it. Maybe it was the way her eyes were boring into her like they could see into her brain and read her thoughts. Maybe it was the way her chest seemed to push out just ever so slightly afterwards as if reminding Laura that Carmilla still wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“I am?”
“Vaguely annoying, like a mosquito that won’t let up, but…You’re not what I expected to find in a laundromat at two in the morning.”
“Well, that goes for both of us.”
Laura moved back to her seat on the washing machine across from Carmilla. “You really aren’t anything like I’d have imagined a vampire.”
“I can suck your blood, if that would help.”
Laura’s eyes bulged and she brought her hands protectively to her neck. “That wasn’t an invitation!”
“There are plenty of other places I could bite you besides your neck, you know,” Carmilla informed her, her eyes dragging over Laura’s legs as she ran her tongue over her teeth. “Some of them, you might even find pleasurable.”
Laura blushed and tried to pull the shirt down to cover more of her legs. Unfortunately that only served to expose more of her chest. God, she couldn’t wait for her clothes to be dry. “I highly doubt it,” she replied, her voice an octave higher than normal.
“Oh, cupcake,” Carmilla said, shaking her head, her smirk firmly back in place. “Wound a little tight, are we? Let me guess…virgin?”
“Not that it’s ANY of your business, but I’m not.”
Carmilla’s smirk widened, then she bit her lower lip and gave Laura a sultry look. She slid off of her washing machine and took a purposeful step towards Laura.
Please, don’t bite me. Please, don’t bite me.
“Really?” Carmilla asked, leaning forward and placing one hand uncomfortably close to Laura’s bare thigh. “Thanks for sharing.”
Carmilla’s eyes were locked on hers and her lips were far too temptingly close. Carmilla leaned her body against Laura’s legs and began to reach with her other hand…
…and she reached right past Laura and picked up her book.
“What’re you reading, creampuff? Anything good?”
Laura cleared her throat and tried to regain her composure as Carmilla moved away, flipping idly through the book.
“Good Omens, by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. One of my favorites, actually. It’s a hilarious story about the apocalypse, or, well, everything that goes wrong with the apocalypse…”
Carmilla paused mid-step and looked up skeptically at Laura. “Sounds like a laugh.”
“No, it is. See there’s this demon, Crowley, and he’s supposed to play this pivotal role in bringing about the apocalypse, but he doesn’t really want it to happen because he’s grown attached to life on earth, and so he goes to his angel friend, Aziraphale –“
“Ha, like demons and angels would, what, socialize over coffee?”
“Tea. They’re English. Anyway, the Satanist Nuns –“
“Satanist Nuns? Really?”
Laura kept going like she hadn’t been interrupted. “They screw up switching out the antichrist as a baby, so he goes home to the wrong family and is raised like a normal kid, and –“
“A series of unfortunate events sort of thing?”
“More fortunate, assuming you don’t actually want the world to end.”
Carmilla eyed her for a second, but didn’t respond. “Hmm,” she hummed eventually and opened to the first page of the book.
“Feel free to check it out,” Laura mumbled as Carmilla turned the page.
Carmilla didn’t respond. Instead, she leaned against a washing machine and kept reading.
“Well, then…” Laura muttered. How am I supposed to pass the time now?
.
It turned out that watching Carmilla read was actually kind of entertaining.
“Ha, I like this Ligur, guy. ‘’I imagine Ligur here would give his right arm for a chance like this.’ ‘That’s right,’ said Ligur. Someone’s right arm, anyway, he thought. There were plenty of right arms around; no sense in wasting a good one.’” Carmilla read aloud.
Laura smiled, and then realized that Carmilla might very well share that sentiment here in real life and her expression turned to unsettled. Still, it was rewarding when Carmilla chuckled softly as she continued to read and shared the occasional line.
Carmilla eventually grew quiet as she became more absorbed in the book and Laura began to wonder. It wasn’t her fault, really. She was a curious person. It was what had driven her to journalism in the first place. She tried to occupy her thoughts by checking on her clothes to see if they were dry enough to put on yet. They weren’t. She lingered by the dryers and her gaze returned to Carmilla.
God, she was sexy. Was that a vampire thing? Or a Carmilla thing? She looked effortlessly cool and confident, leaning back against a washing machine, reading a book, her pink lip teased between her teeth, the corner of her mouth turned up in a grin, her dark eyes moving quickly down the page, her pale skin smooth and inviting.
Laura swallowed hard.
“Why me?” she blurted before she could think better of it.
Carmilla looked up in surprise and blinked at Laura, almost as if she’d forgotten she was there.
Flattering, Laura thought.
“Why you what, cupcake?” Carmilla asked, closing the book and placing it on the washing machine before striding towards her with an enticing sway to her hips.
“You weren’t going to kill me, you were going to flirt with me…Why me?”
“Are there lots of other people here that I’m unaware of?” Carmilla asked coming to a stop just in front of her, bordering on invading her personal space.
Laura tried to step back, but only succeeded in pressing her back up against the wall of dryers.
“No, obviously. Did you have to flirt with me just because I’m here?”
Carmilla smirked. “No.”
“Well, then…Why me?”
Carmilla tilted her head to the side and studied Laura’s face for a second. “Because you’re cute…” she began, inching closer, “…and bold…” Carmilla took another minute step closer. “…and a little surprising…” Carmilla put a hand on the dryer next to Laura and leaned in close so that her skin was barely brushing against Laura. “…and you’re attracted to me,” she finished, the look on her face saying, “Checkmate.”
“What?” Laura squeaked. She cleared her throat in an attempt to lower her voice back down to a normal range. “I’m not…You couldn’t possibly know that!”
Carmilla smirked. She placed her free hand on Laura’s chest, just above her left breast, her fingertips just hitting bare skin. Laura felt heat radiate from the touch and flush through her body.
“Your heartbeat sped up the moment you saw me,” Carmilla said.
“Yeah, well, I was nervous because I was almost naked in a laundromat and someone had just walked in. You could have been anyone. That doesn’t prove attraction,” Laura defended herself. It was a half-truth, at least.
Apparently vampires have super hearing. Good to know, Laura noted.
“And every time you walked past me to sit on the washing machine?”
“I thought you were a serial killer and I was your likely next victim. My heart sped up out of fear, not attraction.” Another half-truth.
“Okay, creampuff,” Carmilla said, her voice low and sultry, prompting an involuntary shiver to run through Laura’s body. She leaned in even closer, trapping her hand between their bodies as the subtle pressure of Carmilla’s body against hers made Laura’s body respond in ways that she’d rather not admit.
Carmilla licked her lips and Laura’s eyes shifted there without her permission and lingered as a broad smirk spread across Carmilla’s face.
Maybe it will go away if I kiss it off, she thought, and instantly regretted it. Now all she could think about was doing just that, and wearing hardly any clothes with an extremely sexy vampire leaning into her was really not the best time to be doing that. She was going to have to change her underwear as soon as she got home as it was. She just hoped that a vampire’s sense of smell wasn’t as heightened as their hearing apparently was, or she’d be able to smell her arousal and any attempts at a defense would go flying out the window.
Carmilla ducked her head and long, dark hair brushed Laura’s cheek as she murmured, “What’s your excuse right now?”
Laura opened and closed her mouth a few times, but an excuse eluded her. Instead she was focused on Carmilla’s hot breath on her ear and the sensation of her body pressed against her and the intoxicating sweet scent of her shampoo. “I, uh, I…” she stammered as Carmilla pulled back just enough to look at her with that infuriating smirk once more.
The buzzer for one of her dryers went off just by her head and she jumped, Carmilla moving with her easily, taking hold of her shoulder to steady her. Carmilla pulled her in close and murmured, “Saved by the bell,” in her ear, before releasing her and sauntering away to lean on a nearby washing machine.
Laura felt a little faint and breathless and her mouth was dry. She licked her lips and swallowed in an attempt to get some feeling of moisture back in her mouth.
“You gonna get those? I’d think you’d be eager to get your clothes back on,” Carmilla commented.
“Right, yeah,” Laura mumbled, still trying to regain some semblance of composure.
She braced herself for the next buzzer that she knew was coming, and, for once, managed not to jump when it went off a moment later. She opened the first dryer and reached in to feel her clothes. Mercifully, they were actually dry. She fetched her bag from the floor and began to load her clothes into it. Normally, she’d have folded them there, but, honestly, they always got wrinkled on the trip back to her apartment anyway, and she deemed it prudent to get out of there and away from Carmilla as fast as possible. It was probably best for both her physical and mental health.
She almost jumped for joy when she found a pair of jeans on her second handful of clothes. She pulled them out, slipped out of her flip flops, and tugged the jeans on quickly, feeling instantly more at ease. After that, she rummaged around and grabbed the first shirt she could find. It was a tight, army-green tank top, and a bit more revealing than she’d have ideally wanted, but it had the distinct advantages of being hers and in her hand. Laura glanced over her shoulder at Carmilla to find her eyes focused on her, one eyebrow raised, and that annoyingly attractive smirk firmly in place. Laura swallowed hard, then peeled off the top that Carmilla had given her, careful to stay angled away from her, and she clumsily pulled her own top on.
“My, my, aren’t we feeling modest all of a sudden,” Carmilla commented, and her voice made Laura jump because it came from right by her ear.
She wheeled around to find that Carmilla had moved up behind her. Carmilla gave her a coy grin and moved around her, eyes trailing up and down her body.
“Hardly seems fair, when you’ve been getting such a show, but I did appreciate those shoulder muscles you’ve got going on…” Carmilla placed a hand between Laura’s shoulder blades, then slid it along, painfully slowly, up over her shoulder and down her arm.
A shiver shot down Laura’s spine, and she swallowed self-consciously. “Yeah, well, you can thank krav maga for that.”
“Ah,” Carmilla said with a nod. “That explains the little stunt you pulled earlier. For the record,” Carmilla murmured low in her ear, and, God, Laura could feel her breath hot against her neck, and it was far too enticing a feeling, “it would take much more than that to stop a vampire.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what? Any recommendations?” Laura inquired, trying to take control of herself and the conversation. The high pitch to her voice betrayed her unease.
Carmilla’s eyes glinted in amusement as she tut-tutted. “Now, now, cupcake…Here I thought we were getting along so well. I even leant you my shirt and everything,” Carmilla said, her hand sliding down over Laura’s, then claiming her shirt back. Carmilla stepped away and slid it on, though unlike Laura, there was no hurry to her actions.
Laura bit her lower lip as the porcelain skin of Carmilla’s stomach disappeared beneath the black fabric of her shirt. When she dragged her eyes back up to Carmilla’s face, Carmilla was eying her seductively.
Laura flushed and looked shyly away. She pressed her hands down over her shirt, trying simultaneously to calm her body and to distract herself from the sudden urge to rush forward and kiss Carmilla. Just to see what it would be like, not because you’re actually attracted to a vampire, she told herself. It didn’t work. Lying to herself never did very well. She turned hurriedly back to the dryers without glancing back at Carmilla, and resumed shoving her clothes into her bag with a renewed sense of urgency. What she needed, very definitely, was to get out of here. Once she was away, her head would clear and she’d be able to retrieve some sense of normalcy (although the knowledge that vampires DID in fact EXIST in her world meant that she’d probably never get back to the exact state she deemed normal before tonight).
She moved to the second dryer, and, just as quickly, emptied it into her bag. She zipped it up, only having it catch on her once, threw the strap over her shoulder and headed to the exit, throwing a quick, “Well, it was nice meeting you. Goodnight!” in Carmilla’s direction without actually looking at her.
“As adorable as you are in your rush to leave,” Carmilla’s sultry voice halted Laura in her tracks a few meters from the door, “aren’t you forgetting something?”
Laura frowned. Clothes? Mercifully, check. Flip flops? Check. Bag which contained clean laundry, her cell phone, and her apartment keys? Check. Brain? Mostly check. Willpower? Fading fast, but she doubted that Carmilla was hanging on to it for her. Reluctantly she looked around and saw Carmilla holding up her copy of Good Omens. She debated going back for it for a moment. Pros: it was her favorite book and she was in the middle of re-reading it (though it wasn’t like she didn’t know how it ended), she’d probably miss it if she didn’t have it sitting on the shelf in her room, and she’d seem less rude if she didn’t just rush off. Cons: she’d have to move in close to Carmilla to get it and she might lose her head and do something more stupid than the long list of things she’d already acquired that evening. Besides, she might be depriving someone else who could love the book of the joys of reading it if she went back for it.
Laura’s eyes darted to Carmilla’s face and saw that she was biting her lower lip invitingly as one eyebrow raised questioningly at her. “Well?” Carmilla inquired, holding the book out.
Laura hesitated another split second before making up her mind. “Keep it. I’ve read it and you haven’t.”
Carmilla eyed her curiously, then pulled the book in to her chest. “I shall treasure it always,” she said with mock emotion. “My memento of time spent with the adorable, but strange girl who found me more terrifying when she thought I was a serial killer than once she found out I was a literal monster.”
“You’re…I…” Laura closed her mouth, heeding the warning in her head for once tonight. “Enjoy. Bye.”
She ducked her head, turned and hurried out of the laundromat before she could change her mind.
When she was a block away, she paused, looked around and took a deep breath. The slight chill in the early autumn night air had a calming effect on her. She shook her head. Maybe she’d just hallucinated that whole thing, her brain suggested. Maybe she’d fallen asleep and dreamed it all up, only waking up properly once she was outside. Doing laundry in her sleep was about as reasonable an idea as getting hit on by a vampire, right? MORE reasonable, really.
And yet…
Laura could still feel the ghost of Carmilla’s touch on her arm.
Laura took another deep breath. It didn’t matter. It was over. She was probably never going to see Carmilla again. And now she had clean clothes. If she was responsible and washed them BEFORE they were all dirty next time, she wouldn’t need to strip down to do laundry, which would mean she wouldn’t have any reason to go back to the laundromat in the middle of the night. She could do her laundry between classes in the middle of the afternoon when other people were apt to be around. It’d be fine. She’d forget all about Carmilla and vampires and those damn seduction eyes, and that sexy little smirk, and the way she’d run her hand through her dark hair and it had fallen back around her face, and the way her fingers had felt against her skin, and…
Laura coughed, shook her head, adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and kept walking.
.
A block from home she had the sudden thought that if vampires DID have a heightened sense of smell, then Carmilla might be capable of tracking her back to her apartment like a bloodhound. Maybe she hadn’t killed her in the laundromat because she was hoping that Laura would lead her back to more potential prey. Laura took a wrong turn on purpose, walked around the block, then doubled back before heading to her building, just in case. Besides, she’d probably have had to be invited in, right? Even if she could track her? That’s what all the myths suggested.
Take that, devious vampire fiend!
Laura glanced around before sticking her key in the lock, but the streets were still and empty.
Adventure over.
Some small part of her couldn’t help feeling just a little disappointed as she dumped her clothes on her bed and began to fold them. She felt silly, now that she was in the safety of her room with the light on her bedside table casting a warm glow over her room and the soft, almost comforting sound of her roommate’s faint snores floating in from across the hall.
She should have at least gone back and gotten her book.