Tags: Hollstein, Drabble, Fluff, implied smut, soft and sleepy mostly
When thin pale arms wrap around her waist in the middle of the night, she feels safe. After dying and then coming back to life after being hunted day and night by the Dean, the only time she feels safe--really, truly safe--is when she's in Carmilla's arms.
Not when people are rushing around her at top speed trying to get the next big story or be the next big break. Not when she has to find a way to get up out of bed to walk away from those same arms for at least until noon when they meet up for lunch and talk about everything (and occasionally nothing when they're too busy kissing).
No, only now, when it's just her and Carmilla and their bed, whenever they manage to get into it.
When Laura's had a long day at work and Carmilla's had a difficult time job hunting--or attempting job hunting, because let's be honest, what she's best at is being there for Laura and loving her--they fall into each others arms, at times, like second nature, like native language.
At other times it's like waves, oceans, hurricanes, tornados. The amazing, earth-shattering natural disaster that is them being together.
It reminds her she's alive, and Carmilla's alive, and they're both living and breathing with actual beating hearts that can slow down, speed up, and skip beats with just the right gesture.
So when Laura feels Carmilla slide into bed behind her and wrap her arms around her waist, she snuggles back into her and whispers a quiet, "I love you." When she feels it, rather than hears it, mouthed against the nape of her neck in between good night kisses, she's finally able to sleep.