I Saw Harley Kissing Mistress Clause

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"Why are you staring at me like that?" A teenage Carmilla asked me with big blue doe eyes. They search my stare as if she would find the answer there. She was looking flushed from the heat of the fireplace

We sat on a couch right front of it, a romantic setting if it weren't for the other drunk teenagers stumbling around us. We had been sitting there for an hour, getting to know each other. 

I told her about my childhood, and she told me about her dreams of the future. I had made myself comfortable- both arms spread out wide and taking up the entire back of the sofa. She was sitting with her posture ramrod straight, back against the arm of the couch, hugging her knees loosely as we chatted. 

She still appeared nervous at my attention, but as her beer slowly disappeared, it took more more of her nerves along with it.

I didn't respond at first, letting my attention linger until she looked ready to either bolt or faint from pure anxiety. Then I smiled.

Not my usual smile. Not the one my last fling accused me of using when I wanted to "charm the panties off of someone." No, this was a genuine one, which was a rarity even in my formative years.

The smile, to my surprise, causes Carmilla's shoulders to relax, and even prompted a small, if unsure, smile in return.

I brought my right arm from the back of the couch to take a long sip from the beer dangling in my fingertips before I answered her question. Almost as if to bolster my courage to respond, since I was doing so with complete honesty. There was an unusual fluttering in my stomach, and I hoped the alcohol would fix whatever it was causing the uncomfortable sensation.

"It's your eyes." I admit quietly, wanting to look away but being unable to. They grow even more round and entrancing as I speak about them. "The fire, the way it's reflecting in your irises. It makes your eyes look like they have little blue flames dancing around in them. You would think it would be intimidating, seeing something like that, but you're such a little ball of sunshine. I guess I associate it to the fire burning inside of you. I find it...captivating."

I down the rest of my beer, and drag my attention towards the fireplace itself, wondering if someone had just thrown a new log on while I had been distracted. It seemed much warmer in here than it had only a minute ago.

"Thanks, I think..?" She says after a moment. A few silent beats pass beats pass, then she says something so low, I almost miss it entirely. I turn towards her, and can see pink spreading from her neck to her high cheekbones.

"I've never seen eyes like yours. Gray, but sometimes when you turn your head they shine like silver. They remind me of little moons. They're...really pretty." She finishes, almost inaudibly. She breaks our eye contact to glance towards the shifting flames as she fidgets with embarrassment.

I knew right then my evil master plan was sure to succeed. I had Carmilla Johnson in the palm of my hands. I should have felt like a winner. I really should have felt like an irredeemable asshole, knowing what I would end up doing to her, to spite her brother.

But all I felt was that damn fluttering in my stomach grow stronger. I didn't know what it was, or how to make it go away. Which made me feel a sense of foreboding that eclipsed all the feelings of guilt that should have been in its place.

---------------

The memory hits me like a freight train, when Camry stands and the tattoo on her foot flashes past my vision. Now I know it's the only tattoo on her entire body, and I don't think it's a coincidence.

It takes me a few moments to react to her mad dash for her clothes. I'm so lost in the complexity of my emotions. As well as stunned from the flashback, and it's possible implications.

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