Hallway

651 31 10

by Anomiac

by Anomiac

Tags: Hollstein, Fluff, Change, Character Study

The old hallways of her old high school are a nice reminder of how new everything in her life is, like someone hit the refresh button on the page of her life and now everything has been cast with a different light, a different meaning. Those last twelve years of education don't seem like a death sentence anymore now that they're over.

Even people who go through the toughest of times have the tendency to look back through the glasses of hindsight and see the reality that maybe things were better than they thought they were in the moment. She feels like for almost thirteen years of her life she's been staring at a painting with a microscope trying to figure out what it looks like, and now that she's taken a step back to look at the entire picture, suddenly everything makes sense.

Time had always played a big factor in her decisions. She needs time to do homework, time to sleep, time to take care of herself and hang out with friends, but while she was taking so much time for herself, she never took the time to look around her and see things for what they really are. This is clearer now more than ever as she looks at the profile of her best friend's face while they walk down the desolate, echoing halls.

As they walk the halls, Laura looks at Carmilla honestly and without pretense, and realizes that she's objectively beautiful. Beautiful, no doubt, but that's what everyone says in these sappy moments. The sentimental girl realizing the beauty of a friend in the zenith of everything that seems to have come together perfectly to aid that singular moment of realization. No, Carmilla is beautiful but she is so much more than that. She's a rock: jagged in some places and soft and smooth in others--primarily the places where Laura tends to hit the hardest.

When they first met, Carmilla wouldn't even hug her. Now it's the first and last thing they do whenever they see each other. She's more open to communication and she can even laugh if Laura tries hard enough. She had the pleasure of seeing Carmilla get worn down while trying to keep up her tough exterior. Carmilla turns her head to look at her, and her eyes, which had been staring--almost glaring--straight ahead, soften. A smile spreads across her face which immediately draws Laura's attention to her mouth. It's only enough time for a glance before Carmilla is looking forward again.

The feeling in her chest doesn't register initially. It's soft, warm, and it trickles down to her lungs and warms her stomach like a cup of hot cocoa. Yes, everything is new now, but some things also need to be reevaluated. Including how she feels about Carmilla.

It's not that she never noticed the way her heart sometimes skipped a beat in her friend's presence, or the way their other friends liked to talk about bets behind their backs when they thought they weren't listening--they had actually make a bit of an inside joke about that bit--it's just that she never had time to determine whether or not it was worth chasing; worth the risk.

And then, well, then they graduated.

She knows without a doubt now that on her death bed one of her regrets will be that she didn't take the chance when it showed its face to her--as it has many times in the past at sleepovers and in dark corners at parties. Hindsight is 20-20, and it's a nuisance because it won't stop reminding her of all the times she could have done what her heart told her to, but didn't because of silly and completely temporary reasons. Not anymore.

She stops walking, but to her it feels more like her legs stopped working, and she stands there watching Carmilla walk a few more paces ahead before she stops too.

"Cutie? You okay?"

"Can I-" Laura hesitates and walks closer to Carmilla nervously, taking a deep breath and forcing the words out--though they come out sounding nervous and unsure, "can I kiss you?"

It's as if all the air has been sucked from the hallway. Neither of them breathe for a moment as they stare at each other. It's like they've both been expecting this for so long; like it was an unspoken secret that somehow they both knew and somehow they both figured out that at this point in time everything would be revealed. It just made sense.

So much has changed, and she's been more than a little scared of things not turning out the way she planned, but now she's staring her fear of change in the face and she's not even flinching. Surely that must count for something.

Quietly, like a whisper of wind blowing through the locker-lined tunnel, Carmilla breathes out an unwavering "yes."