Caramel (wlw)

chapter 9 - what do you write?

It was a strange sort of quiet when I got home in the evening. Don't get me wrong, it's always quiet here, but it's usually a peaceful silence, and this had a vibe of emptiness; it was almost sinister.

The door to Laura's was shut, so I'm guessing she's in there or left for the night. Whatever. I'm going to stand under the shower for an hour.

My skin was all wrinkled when I finally dried myself. Stepping outside my door, I could hear shuffling in the opposite room. So Laura was home. It was past 10pm, so I decided to have cereal for dinner.

As I was pouring milk over cornflakes, a crash came from her room. This wasn't a lone occurrence; when I was shoving spoonfuls of cereal in my mouth, several dull thumps followed. Okay, now I'm worried. Rinsing off the bowl as fast as I could, I stood at her door.

"Laura? Are you okay?"

The response was a shattering of something that sounded like glass.

"I'm fine," she said, probably not at all fine, what with the noise.

"Open the door."

"What? No. It's fine." Her voice wavered.

"Something broke in there, let me in."

She didn't reply, so I did took the most logical course of action. After taking a step back, I kicked just beside the lock. There was a sharp hey! from inside, but I paid no attention and kept assaulting the door. Finally it swung open, and though I somewhat expected the sight, it still stunned me.

Illuminated in the dim light of a singular lamp, Laura was crouched over something on the floor, and around her, books were strewn in a careless heap. I never even noticed she had this many. The bookshelf was still standing, so she probably swept them to the ground. The desk, too, was empty. Journals and pens were scattered on the hardwood floor.

This might be a pointless thing to say right now, but I'm surprised; Laura has always been a gentle person.

I walked over to her; she was clutching her hand. I crouched down with her and saw that it was bleeding.

"Woah, where's that from?"

She raised her head to shoot me a quick glare; her face and eyes were red. Was she crying?

"It's from when you were hitting my door. I was trying to clean up."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Come on." She made no effort to move, so I picked her up, which was a little difficult seeing as we were the same size. She gave a little yelp, but didn't protest. I put her on her bed.

"Wait," I said, and stepped out to fetch my first aid kit. When I came back, Laura was in her bathroom.

"I told you to wait."

"I was washing the blood off, mother." I had to chuckle just a little bit as we both sat on the bed. Wordlessly, she offered her hand. It was a small cut, won't need anything other than a band-aid.

The whole time, Laura was faced away, busy staring at a spot on the wall. When I was done, I clasped her hand in both of mine. Abruptly, she turned to look.

Her tears fell, and on impulse I reached to wipe it off with my thumb. I could pinpoint the exact moment she broke down; her stance gave it away. She shifted, and her cheek was cupped in my hand. The tears flowed freely now, and I had no idea what to do.

I'm not used to this whole consoling business. Frankly, I've never done this before. I could just get up and pretend this isn't happening, but my heart hurt for Laura. I don't know what she's going through, and I know I have no business knowing, but at the very least I'll be here for her.

This position was rapidly becoming awkward for me though, so I moved closer and put my arm around her. She welcomed this and buried her face into the crook of my neck, now sobbing. She's warm. I held her and we stayed a while like that.

Our comfortable silence was broken only by her erratic breathing and my occasional murmurs of reassurance. Somehow, we fell back onto the bed and Laura was still against my chest. I wasn't the one crying, but I felt vulnerable.

"Sorry, I was having a hard time." Her voice was weak and hoarse. She moved herself off of me; my skin cooled.

"It's okay." She was beside me now, so I turned my body to face her. Her eyes were closed.

This is a different side of Laura, maybe one I wasn't meant to see. Maybe no one was.

"Don't you have anyone to tell your problems?" She tensed and her eyes stayed shut. I bit my tongue; I had no right asking, and if I did I could have worded it better. I was just about to apologize when she replied.

"No," she whispered. "No one."

"You could tell me."

Her eyes flew open. The look she was giving me made me ache; it was hopeful and desperate. But she turned away, and I'll admit I felt hurt by that.

"How do you do it?" Oh? I thought she spurned me.

"Do what?"

"This. Keeping your life together." She was on her back, staring at the ceiling.

"Hah. Just barely."

"Still." She sighed. The barely-there conversation lapsed into silence.

"I only finished high school, you know. The shop is the only thing I got going for me." Laura didn't contribute any words, so I kept talking.

"Sometimes I wonder if I should have gone to college, like you." She scoffed.

"Why?" Scorn punctuated the word.

"I don't know, I feel like I missed something."

"It's nothing important, and besides you've built something for yourself. I envy that." Her tone was almost resentful. I wonder what she regrets. I had nothing else to say, so we were quiet for a while, until she spoke.

"Do you know what I do for a living?" I paused before replying.

"Not really." She laughed then, a bitter laugh with no real mirth behind it.

"Well, now I don't want to tell you. It's ridiculous."

"You don't have to tell me."

"I'm going to," she said, but paused after. I held my breath; she turned toward me.

"I write vampire erotica."

My mouth actually fell open. Laura was leaning back against the headboard and had her hands behind her head, a cocky little smirk on her face. I've never seen her with an expression like that. She looked like she was playing a mean joke on me, but, in the warm light, I swear she was blushing.

"You don't believe me." It was a sure statement. "You believed I was a vampire quick enough, though."

"Yeah, because I saw proof!"

"You're not getting to see my writing for free." I didn't reply. She was still staring at me.

"It pays well, you know. I'm good at it."

"I'll take your word for it." She laughed again, this time on a lighter note.

"I just didn't think I would end up like this. It's sad."

"This isn't what you wanted?"

"No, Val. My life's dream is not writing porn." A faint smile formed on her lips.

"Damn. What is it, then?"

"I'm not sure. I want something peaceful, I think. Like running a coffee shop." And then she actually winked at me. My breathing hitched.

"I guess it is pretty peaceful, yeah." I was looking at the ceiling for a while until she called my attention.

"Valentin." I turned to her.

"Thank you. For this. For listening." Suddenly she was too close. I could guess at what would happen next, but I didn't push her away.

Laura closed the gap between her lips and mine, and there, bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, we shared our first kiss.