Vampire lore - Carmilla/First Kill

Chapter 48

Carmilla's eyes flicked from Juliette to Calliope, her thoughts pulling her away, back to the safe house, to the others—especially Laura. The weight of their argument from the night before settled on her like a heavy cloak, each word they'd exchanged playing over in her mind. Laura's voice, usually full of warmth, had been sharp, cutting deep.

She had tried to push it aside for the night, telling herself it would be easier to deal with in the morning, but now the unresolved tension gnawed at her insides. Laura had no idea where she was, no clue if she was safe or if she'd come back at all. The thought of her waking up, reaching out for her only to find an empty bed, filled Carmilla with guilt.

Her chest tightened, and she blinked back the anxiety that threatened to rise. It was an old feeling, one she hadn't allowed herself to feel in centuries. But Laura—Laura had torn down walls Carmilla thought she'd buried under lifetimes of indifference. Now those walls were cracking, and the vulnerability she felt was overwhelming.

She pushed herself off the bar, the soft clink of glasses shifting behind her barely audible over the thrum of her own thoughts. Her eyes flicked back to Juliette, who was sitting so still beside Calliope, like a statue carved out of devotion and desperation.

— We should head back to the house - Carmilla said quietly, her voice cutting through the thick silence that hung in the air. She tried to sound practical, even though her mind was a storm of emotions. - The others are probably awake by now... and worried.

Her gaze softened as she added.

— I'm sure Laura is.

Juliette didn't answer immediately. Her fingers traced the delicate lines of Calliope's hand, brushing over her knuckles with a tenderness that spoke of both love and fear. Her brow furrowed, and her lips pressed into a thin line as if she were holding herself together with sheer will. Carmilla could feel the emotions radiating from her—the raw uncertainty, the need for answers, the dread of what those answers might be.

— I can't leave - Juliette finally said, her voice barely a whisper but unyielding. - Not until Calliope wakes up. I need to know if the spell worked... if she remembers me.

Her voice cracked, and she swallowed, trying to push back the tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

— I have to know if I saved her in time.

Carmilla watched her for a moment, her chest tightening with understanding. She had been there once, long ago—clinging to the hope that love could be salvaged in the face of insurmountable odds. It wasn't the first time she had seen someone gripped by that kind of desperation, but it never became easier to witness. She couldn't take that from Juliette, even if she wanted to.

Talia, who had been sitting in silence beside her daughter, finally spoke. Her voice was calm, the kind of calm that comes after hours of anxiety and fear have worn a person down to their core.

— Juliette, you should  stay - Talia said gently. She placed a hand on Juliette's shoulder, offering what comfort she could. - Your parents will wake up soon, and they'll be glad to see you home. They'll want you here.

Juliette hesitated, her gaze flickering between Talia and Calliope. The conflict in her eyes was palpable, torn between the family she had returned to and the girl lying unconscious in front of her—the girl who had become her whole world. She exhaled softly, her hand never leaving Calliope's, as though letting go even for a second might break whatever fragile connection still tethered them together.

Carmilla's sharp gaze softened as she watched Juliette. There was a rare tenderness in the way her usually hardened eyes flickered with something almost resembling sympathy. She understood better than most the weight of love when it was on the edge of slipping away. And she knew what it meant to fight for even the slimmest chance that everything could still be saved.

— All right - Carmilla said, her voice steady despite the swirling emotions underneath. - You stay here with Calliope. I'll take the van and head back to the safe house.

Her words were practical, but there was an unspoken promise behind them—a promise that she would take care of the rest, that Juliette didn't need to bear this alone.

— If anything happens, you call me. Immediately.

Juliette nodded, though her focus remained on Calliope. Her lips trembled slightly as she whispered.

— I will. And when she wakes up... I'll call you to come get me.

Carmilla lingered for a moment longer, her gaze shifting once more to Calliope. The girl lay so still, her breathing soft and shallow. The quiet in the room was suffocating. Carmilla knew how much hope Juliette had riding on this, and the weight of that hope was like a heavy shadow pressing down on all of them. She silently wished, for Juliette's sake, that the spell hadn't erased everything. That there was still something left to hold on to.

She turned away, her footsteps echoing softly as she made her way toward the door. But as she stepped outside, the cold night air hit her like a reminder of everything waiting for her back at the safe house. The argument with Laura felt like a bruise—tender and raw, something she couldn't ignore no matter how much she wanted to.

As she approached the van, Carmilla's mind replayed their last conversation, the sharp edge to Laura's voice, the look in her eyes as they clashed over something that, in the grand scheme of things, seemed so small. But it wasn't small. It never was when it came to Laura. The memory of Laura's hurt expression stayed with her as she slid into the driver's seat, her hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. She had to fix this. She couldn't let things end like this between them.

She started the engine, but her mind was still half in that bedroom with Laura, replaying every word, every mistake. She had left things unresolved, and it gnawed at her more than she wanted to admit. The drive back to the safe house stretched out in front of her, but all she could think about was Laura, waiting, worrying, and probably just as upset as she had been the night before.

Inside the house, Juliette remained kneeling beside Calliope, her heart pounding with each passing minute. She leaned closer, her lips brushing against Calliope's hand, whispering words meant only for her.

— Please remember me, Calliope. Please come back to me.

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating, as if the whole world had paused in anticipation. Juliette held onto the fragile hope that when Calliope finally opened her eyes, she would still be there—the same Calliope who had stolen her heart, the same Calliope who had fought so fiercely for them both.

She watched the gentle rise and fall of Calliope's chest, every small movement giving her something to cling to. But the fear remained, gnawing at her with the thought that maybe, just maybe, when Calliope woke up, she wouldn't be the same. That the spell had taken away the one thing Juliette couldn't bear to lose.

Her fingers tightened around Calliope's, and she whispered again, her voice breaking.

— Please, don't forget me.

All she could do now was wait. And hope.