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Scar.

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Laura has been staring at her reflection in the mirror for the last thirty minutes, her fingers are softly, absentmindedly, running up and down the raised tissue that has been poorly knitted back together a second time, a jagged line in the valley between her breasts, the colour is a soft translucent white against her pale skin but still obvious because a couple of weeks ago, she’d ran into trouble outside the grocery store at nine in the evening, a couple of guys had grabbed her from behind, she’d twisted her body in such a way as she’d shaken them off that she’d torn the scar tissue and as a result reopened the scar, that scar, this scar right here, the stitches have only just been removed this morning.

Laura is aware of Carmilla’s presence behind her before she sees her in the mirror, the brunette’s hot breath at her neck as she curls a hand around her waist, the other stills her own hand motion as it strokes obsessively over and over on the cusp of the newly closed wound. “Hey..” now she’s clutching her hand, stroking her fingers, as she slowly whispers low at the base of Laura’s neck. “You’re beautiful” before she’s peppering kisses to the crease in Laura’s shoulder as her hand pulls Laura’s away completely. The way her body shudders fighting the urge to break down, because she did lose her for a bit back there, in the pit, in fact she lost her for a longer time than she’d ever held her vampire breath, which, now she’s human would set a Guinness world record for the longest held breath.

There’s goodbumps forming on Laura’s exposed shoulders and for the first time since she’d entered the tiny bathroom, Laura’s very aware of just how naked she is from the waist up, Carmilla’s body is curled around her own, her light kisses on her cold skin have brought her back to a reality she’s been absent from all evening. There’s a buzzing in the corner of the room where a fly slowly fries to death on the UV light, the smell of burning permeates the air but it’s all being seen through a hazy fog by Laura who’s using the sink to hold herself up now. Her fingertips are turning white and she’s fighting the urge to gag as a sudden wave of nausea hits her. Carmilla’s hand is pulling lightly at the strands of her hair that are out of place and she’s “shushing” the little whimpers that have somehow escaped Laura’s mouth as she forgets how to breathe properly and breaks down into tiny broken sobs.

Laura finds herself wondering how she’ll tell Carmilla that she still feels incomplete, how she’s scared that she’ll always feel this way because it’s been months since she died but it still feels so raw. And she still feels so empty. In the dead of night when a curled up, purring Carmilla sleeps pressed against her back as the big spoon Laura’s mind wanders as sleep evades her, in the deepest darkest pit of her mind she envisages her mother and how she died, she pans through every minute detail till she’s crying her heart out into her yellow pillow. She wakes in the morning puffy eyed, and Carmilla knows, Laura knows she knows, but she never asks and Laura never tells her.

Laura’s urgent lips are pressing into Carmilla’s, she’s turned away from the mirror, straight into her arms flush against her chest, the scar pressing into her clothed bossom. Carmilla knows this Laura, the girl who’s so eager to feel something, anything, that she’s begging Carmilla to touch her, she’s begging for her kiss and the touch of her lips on her goose pimpled skin, she wants Carmilla’s hand between her legs, her fingers between her wet folds and she’s yearning for those fingers to slip inside and fill her completely. Carmilla knows this Laura because she’s seen her countless times in the last thirty days, she’s chased away her fears with orgasm after orgasm till Laura’s completely undone, the ability to control her emotions fades and she cries herself to sleep in Carmilla’s arms.

Laura’s trying to take her shirt off, her other hand is grabbing at her belt buckle and urgency pressing through her ragged sobs, and it would be so easy for Carmilla to just let go and let Laura take over, let her fall apart. Again. But she can’t, she’s reached a new level of self hatred, one where they’re not in love like lovers should be anymore, they seem only to exist to fulfil the others desires. Carmilla hates herself. Deep down she hates Laura, what she’s become, what she let her become in the aftermath of her death and rebirth. Here’s a point in their tale where nothing makes sense, when the love she feels for Laura is so brutal she can feel it etching it’s own scars into the inside of her heart, she wonders if this is what Laura’s heart feels like. Scarred.

She’s stopping her, she’s putting her hands up against her bare abs and shaking her head, her words are jumbled when they fall out of her mouth and so Laura stares at her, just stares a tiny bit of the haze lifting as she’s making sense of it now “Please” Carmilla’s voice is soft, but it’s there, it’s clear as day and she’s got all this concern washed all over her face and what have you done? “Laura, baby..” Laura can feel the warmth of her hands at her shoulders, the warmth seeping through makes her feel more human than she’s been in days, weeks; “not like this baby” there’s a lump in Laura’s throat that is threatening to spill emotion again as she swallows it away eyes searching Carmilla for a sign she’s been searching for for a while now. She doesn’t know how to name it, maybe it doesn’t have one, or not a spoken one at least, because when Carmilla finally draws her gaze, she’s staring right into Laura’s soul and all at once she feels like her scar’s been cut open again.

There’s rapid fire blinking where Laura’s trying to hide her tears as they form, she’s adamant they won’t fall, not this time, and maybe it was a bit of wishful thinking because they do fall, and it’s a flurry of wetness on her cheeks dripping down and splashing onto her exposed breasts, trickling down between them coursing over the angry scarred skin, Laura wants them to fall forever, whilst they fall she feels things again without the urgency of sexual favours to fuel a fake feeling of completeness. But Carmilla doesn’t let them, she’s stroking away at her cheeks, her shoulders, her breasts, not hesitating on the rough edges, her fingers replaced with lips and kisses, and soft murmurs of love and appreciation, Laura’s hands are sifting through her hair, holding her against her chest feeling the beating of her heart in her throat, against her ribcage, in the tips of her fingers and right down to her toes.

Carmilla doesn’t let her drown in the feelings, she’s pulling her hand and lips away from Laura’s body as she pulls her into the bedroom, the light from the fireplace hits their pale skin bathing it in an orange glow. Carmilla’s fingers dance across Laura’s lips, she’s asking her something she’d faded out; “Let me show you how much I love you..” it’s a request, a question of consent and Laura’s given it away without a second thought, because she always would, the tingling in her thighs has been with her since Carmilla entered the bathroom and its strength pools in the pit of her stomach as Carmilla lowers her to the bed, kissing every inch of skin exposed by the motion.

Carmilla’s pores deep in fear, this plan was an off chance, a bitter hope that ‘love’ would win over the uncertainty. She’s reminded of cradling Laura’s lifeless body, of pleading with death herself for her to give her back, she’s taken into the morgue of her darkest thoughts when a secret would out one day that she’d giver her entire existence for Laura’s human life, Laura knew, though unspoken, she knew and secretly Carmilla knew she knew but she never asked and Carmilla never told her.

As Carmilla’s soft lips continue to graze her scar over and over almost obsessively just like her fingers had done earlier, Laura’s mind falls out of the hazy fog, her ears pick up on Carmilla’s whispers, “beautiful.. stunning.. my heart.. my love..” mixed in with Laura’s short gasps as Carmilla’s fingers wander lower to the waistband of her pants, she’s been holding her breath and it’s Carmilla’s turn to look at her now, eyes slightly hooded, golden in the light that surrounds them, she’s stopped her mouth, her hands and her lips, she’s staring deep into Laura’s soul and it’s like she’s seeing her for the first time, all ragged and worn and slightly broken but still limping on, putting one foot in front of the other.

There’s something about this moment where they’ve stopped, with Carmilla’s hands just dipping low in the warmth beneath Laura’s waistline where Laura wants her to ask, where she’s staring back into Carmilla’s soul and seeing the fear as if it were her panther stalking the stagnant air around them. “Are you sure?” It comes before Laura’s even asked, she can feel the tug of the skin at the corners of her lips and there may be a smile peeking through, she’s burning with desire but Carmilla asked first, and she’s nodding without thinking and a “please..” escapes her lips all needy and passionate the warmth in the room heating up her cheeks in a blush.

She’s falling into motion with Carmilla’s hands, bucking against the press of her fingers into her wetness, fulfilling her every desire, creasing through the fear in Carmilla’s heart and seeping into her own savaged heart, the odd beat it made skipped more than once as Carmilla chased her two fingers with a third and filled Laura completely, every thrust of her fingers deep inside her Laura felt a kiss to the length of her scar, her orgasm teetering on the edge, she longed to be pushed over, but cried out for her feelings to be complete, for the love that overflowed from Carmilla’s lips to encompass her completely, to complete her wholly, to feel like the scar upon her chest was just another battle won.

Laura’s body seized, her hands gripped the bedsheets as her muscles tightened, breaths coming in short sharp gasps, emotions flooding through her fragile resolve. “Carm…” she’s not finishing that sentence, because she’s falling, falling and floating and feeling and free; Carmilla’s last kiss on her scar whispers “mine” as the palm of her hand covers it completely and she’s kissing Laura’s remaining breaths away with lips so soft and needy, breaking out between breaths and kisses and this new feeling that she’s not felt in so so long she almost forgot what it really felt like, Carmilla’s not letting her go and she knows she won’t let her go either, because this is how incomplete feels…

Complete.

“Always” Laura whispers, feeling the press of Carmilla’s hand against her scar and her body closer than she’s been in weeks, months.. “Always yours..”