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Laura wanted to get new clothing for her interview that week, so Carmilla had agreed to tag along and critique Laura’s outfits, even though she didn’t have any experience with appropriate interview attire––although she did have plenty of experience with what looked good on Laura. Plus, Carmilla really couldn’t pass up the chance to have an excuse to watch Laura model outfit after outfit. So they were wandering through the department store, trying to find the perfect outfit.
Carmilla was wearing skinny jeans (purple, and probably the most colorful item in her wardrobe), and her hands were stuffed into her pockets. Laura was resting her hand on Carmilla’s arm, and Carmilla got goosebumps every time she felt Laura’s fingers tighten their grip on her bicep.
“What about this?” Carmilla asked, running her fingers along a form-fitting black dress, with stripes of leather down either side.
“That looks a lot more like something you would wear, Carm,” Laura teased, bumping into Carmilla with her entire body.
“Yeah, well, I still say you’d look good in pretty much anything,” Carmilla replied, turning away from the dress and continuing on through the store. “Although you look pretty good when you’re not wearing anything.”
Laura blushed bright red as Carmilla whispered that last part, and she slid her arm down Carmilla’s arm and tugged Carmilla’s hand out of her pocket. Their fingers laced together automatically, and they bumped shoulders as they walked.
Eventually, Laura had it narrowed down to two suits. One was grey, with flared pant legs and a jacket that hung loosely around Laura’s torso. The other was black, with straight-cut pants and a blazer that seemed like it was made for Laura.
“I think it’s obvious,” Carmilla said flatly. “It’s black, and you look incredible.”
“Yeah, but the grey one is really nice too!” Laura protested.
“Come on, Laur, the black makes more of a statement. It says ‘I’m hot, I know what I’m doing, hire me.’ So let’s buy it and go out for dinner. My treat.”
Laura shifted her weight from one foot to the other, but finally acquiesced. Carmilla was right, and if she wanted to make a good impression, she wanted to look confident and comfortable, and the black suit did just that.
Laura paid for the suit, occasionally leaning against Carmilla, who was standing against her. Once she’d paid, and the cashier had bagged the suit up, Laura took Carmilla’s hand, and they headed out. There was a small German restaurant in the mall on the opposite end of the mall, and they both knew, without having to say anything, that they’d both be happy with dinner there.
“Well, if it isn’t Carmilla Karnstein.” Laura and Carmilla had made it halfway to the restaurant when Carmilla heard someone behind her call her name. The voice made her blood run cold.
“Just keep walking,” Carmilla hissed to Laura, but it was too late. The woman who’d spoken had already circled around to stand in front of them, effectively blocking their path.
“You weren’t honestly planning on just ignoring me, were you?” Carmilla glared at the woman standing in front of her. Even though it was a Saturday, she was wearing a pencil skirt and an imposing blazer. Her black hair, just barely tinged with grey, was pulled back into a tight bun, and her dark brown eyes––the same shade as Carmilla’s––lacked both emotion and warmth. “Not after everything I’ve done for you? So I see no matter how much… therapy you go through, you’re still the same ungrateful, pathetic child you’ve always been.”
“Mother,” Carmilla said, her voice broken. She hated her mother, but she hated herself more, and all it took to remind her of that was listening to her mother for a few seconds. Carmilla pulled her hand from Laura’s, and she could feel herself shrinking; slouching and curling in on herself in an effort to disappear.
“This is your mother?” Laura asked, comprehension dawning on her face.
“And who might you be?” Carmilla’s mother asked, her voice icy as she turned to face Laura.
“Laura Hollis. Carmilla’s girlfriend,” Laura answered defiantly.
“Oh, look at that, kitty,” Carmilla’s mother taunted, smirking, “You’ve finally found one person who actually gives a damn about you. How did you trick her into thinking that you were worth her time?”
Carmilla wanted to grab Laura and run, to get away from this monster that she’d once called ‘mom.’ But she was frozen, rooted to the spot as she listened to her mother berate her. Even after everything Carmilla had gone through, and all the ways in which she’d improved, her mother could still reduce her to nothing with just a few well-chosen words.
“Where do you get off talking to us like that?” Laura snapped, shocking Carmilla.
“Excuse me?” Carmilla’s mother asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. No one had ever spoken back to her before.
“You’re a monster. You were absolutely horrible to Carm, when all she needed was a mother. You abused her, so badly that she left as soon as she could, even though that meant that she was going to go through hell trying to keep her life together. If you can call it a life, after what you did. But she did her best, and she’s fought like hell to get to where she is now, and I am so insanely proud of her for getting to where she is now. Did you know that she’s been sober for eight months? But you wouldn’t know, because the only reason you ever cared about Carmilla was because you needed someone you could hit. You don’t get to hurt her anymore! And if you ever come near either of us again, I swear to the God in a Shiny Blue Phonebox that I will find a way to make your life miserable.”
Laura paused just long enough to draw breath––honestly, she was surprised she hadn’t passed out during that rant––and, out of the corner of her eye, noticed that Carmilla was staring at her with a mixture of horror and admiration. She felt a surge of resolve before she continued, “And you know what? I do give a damn about Carmilla, and she didn’t have to ‘trick’ me into anything. Maybe if you’d taken the time to get to know your own daughter, you would know that she’s incredible. Sure, she’s had her problems––which you helped cause, by the way––but the fact that she’s been able to get past all that just makes me love her more. I’m lucky to have her in my life––which is something that you will never get.”
Red in the face from her outburst, Laura turned to Carmilla, who seemed shell-shocked. She grabbed her by the arm and tugged her away, muttering, “Come on, Carm, come on, let’s get out of here,” as she led them both out of the mall. Neither of them was particularly hungry anymore anyway.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Carm, are you planning on talking to me anytime soon?” Laura asked, her voice gently, but starting to give away a hint of annoyance. Carmilla hadn’t said anything since they’d run into her mother, and her silence was starting to scare Laura. “I kind of just screamed at your mother in the middle of a shopping center. And she said a lot of really awful things to you. Are you okay?” There was a long pause, and Laura added, “Can you talk to me? Babe, please talk to me?”
For some reason, being called ‘babe’ seemed to bring Carmilla out of her trance. She looked up at Laura and, in a voice that was so hollow Laura thought it had to belong to someone else, Carmilla said, “I want heroin.”
Laura’s face fell, and she realized that Carmilla was closer to relapse than she’d been since she’d first entered Lifestyles, nearly a year ago. She wasn’t sure that she’d be able to help her girlfriend out of this one. “Honey? You know you don’t really want to do that. Remember everything you went through to get to this point? You’re so much stronger than that.”
“But it makes it hurt less,” Carmilla sobbed, her voice breaking. Laura felt her heart break as she took Carmilla into her arms, but it wasn’t until Carmilla half-shouted, half-sobbed, “Please!” that Laura actually felt scared. She had never, ever seen Carmilla like this. It honestly scared her more than finding Carmilla unconscious in her bathroom, with a needle still in her arm.
“I know, sweetie, I know,” Laura whispered, running her fingers through Carmilla’s hair and trying to sooth her. She wracked her brain, trying to think of what she could say to make Carmilla feel better. She thought of some of the coping mechanisms she’d learned about during her classes and her internships. “Carm, can you try something with me?”
Carmilla sat up, her eyes red and puffy––Laura had never even imagined that she would see Carmilla look this frail, this broken––and nodded, still clutching one of Laura’s hands in her own.
“Okay, good. So, let’s say that you find some heroin, and you use again, and for tonight, you feel great. How are you going to feel tomorrow morning?” Laura was trying to get Carmilla to think her decisions through all the way. It was a technique she’d learned from a psychologist she’d shadowed: when recovering addicts want to keep moving forward, sometimes you have to try to show them what the future can look like.
“Pretty shitty,” Carmilla mumbled.
“Right. And how long will it take before you need another hit?”
“Just a few hours,” Carmilla admitted. She shifted, so that she was lying down across the sofa, her head in Laura’s lap. Laura started absentmindedly stroking Carmilla hair, and Carmilla could feel herself slowly feeling more peaceful, more comfortable.
“So then you’d get another hit. And another, and a few days after that pattern, how would you feel?”
“Strung out. Like I did when I first met you. Like I would do anything to get another hit, to feel that rush again.”
“And what do you think would happen to you and me?” Laura knew she was toe-ing a dangerous line, but she hoped that by making Carmilla think all the way through the consequences of her actions, she could talk her down from her cravings.
Carmilla thought for a minute before she whispered, “We’d break up. Either I’d go too far, and overdose, and you’d be broken-hearted and beating yourself up for letting me back into your life. Or I would choose heroin over you, and you would decide that you couldn’t be around me anymore.”
“I really don’t want any of that to happen,” Laura said, still running her fingers through Carmilla’s long, dark hair.
“I don’t either,” Carmilla agreed, reaching up awkwardly to hug Laura around the waist.
They sat like that for a while longer before Laura finally asked if Carmilla felt better.
“Yeah,” Carmilla whispered. She sat up, and Laura was relieved to see that there was a spark back in Carmilla’s eyes. I’ve got my girlfriend back, Laura thought. “Hey, Laura?” Carmilla asked.
“Yeah?”
“I know I shut down, after what my mother said. But I heard everything you said too.”
“I meant every word,” Laura said adamantly.
“I know you did,” Carmilla assured her. “I just want you to know that I heard it. And I appreciate it. And I love you for it. And I love you because you’re you. God, this would sound better if I was writing instead of talking. Or just playing piano. I can do that.”
Laura grinned. That was the Carmilla she knew and loved: tough on the outside, but a complete romantic at heart, stumbling over her words as she tried to tell Laura just how much she meant to her. “So it sounds like,” Laura said, teasing, “you’re trying to tell me that you love me.”
“So much,” Carmilla agreed, nodding fervently. “I really can’t think of words that adequately describe how much I love you, Laura Hollis. My mother still seems to have this… power over me, but what you said? It made me feel like I mattered.”
“You do matter,” Laura said forcefully. “You’re like… you’re my world, Carm.”
Carmilla just gave a half-smile and continued, “Thanks, Laur. But I guess what I’m trying to say is that, for so many years, my mother would do exactly what she did today. And I’d feel about this big,” Carmilla held up her thumb and forefinger, barely separated. “I never had anyone to tell me otherwise. Even Ell, she would say that she loved me, and she’d try to get me to stay over at her place as much as possible, but… I never had somebody actually fight for me until you came along. You’ve been fighting for me since we first met, and you talked me into going to the shelter. I can’t even tell you what it means to know that I’ve got you by my side.”
Laura squeezed Carmilla’s hands, tears in her eyes. “You were fighting for yourself,” she insisted. “I’m just glad I get to come along for the ride. And yes, okay, sometimes I guess you did need a bit of a prod in the right direction.”
Carmilla laughed weakly. She figured it was more shoves than prods in the right direction, but she didn’t want to correct Laura on that one. “Well, whatever the case, I guess I just want you to know that I really appreciate it. And I love you. God, do I love you.”
Laura giggled cheerfully and leaned forward to press her lips to Carmilla’s. “Well, I love you too. And… if you’re up for it, you could always show me.”
Carmilla grinned and raised an eyebrow at her girlfriend. “Why, Ms. Hollis, are you suggesting what I think you are?”
“Come on!” Laura nagged, grabbing Carmilla hand and pulling them both to the bedroom. “We could both use some… fun, after today. And just think of it as helping me relax before my interview tomorrow!”
Carmilla didn’t need telling twice… she let Laura pull her into the room, a grin spread across her face.