Page 6 of My Carmilla
The implication hung heavy in the air, thick and intoxicating. Her candor left me breathless, my tongue thick and useless in my mouth.
Carmilla stretched her arms, the sheets falling away to reveal a glimpse of creamy skin. "Is it afternoon already?"
"Nearly," I admitted. "You slept like a stone."
"Forgive my tardiness. I didn’t have much of an appetite for breakfast.”
"Perhaps you need the curtains opened a touch," I said. “Some fresh air and sunlight might do you well.”
Her hand shot out, swift as a viper's strike, and captured mine before I could reach for the drapes. Her grip was surprisingly strong.
“You are the only sun I need.” Her words were a caress, and the shadows seemed to dance even closer as she leaned in. She smiled at me, the movement stretching the shadows beneath her high cheekbones. Carmilla's beauty was undeniable, but a hint of something else lurked beneath the surface. A gleam in her eyes, like a beautiful snake basking in the cool of its shaded den. “Besides, sunlight tends to give me a dreadful headache. I fear I’m a delicate hothouse flower.”
“What if we stay in the shade?”
“I suppose that’s alright.”
We stepped outside the schloss, the scent of honeysuckle heavy in the warm air. The late afternoon sun beat down, so I led Carmilla through a walkway with weeping willows, arm in arm. Their branches, heavy with emerald leaves, formed a cool, green canopy overhead.
“I must show you my favorite spot of all. The lake—” I stilled, spotting a thin strand of silk dangling from a branch overhead. A plump, writhing caterpillar clung to the end of it. I quickly side-stepped it, that familiar aversion to anything with too many legs creeping in.
Carmilla laughed, a sound as light and musical as wind chimes. “Don’t tell me this creature frightens you.” She reached out, her fingers brushing the caterpillar's silken thread. “Girls are like caterpillars too, you know. Butterflies when the summer comes, but in the meantime they are grubs and larvae.”
The comparison did not sit well with me. “I’m not certain I agree.”
““Don’t you see? They spend their lives diligently consuming. Lessons, social graces, expectations. It's all a form of sustenance, gathering the strength needed for something more." Her hand, still hovering near the caterpillar, traced an invisible path in the air. "Hidden away in their chrysalis, they undergo a metamorphosis, and in the summer, they emerge as winged butterflies.” Her tone shifted, evocative, as her dark eyes pinned mine. “Vibrant, free.”
"Free," I echoed, the word hanging heavy on my tongue.
Her implication was clear. I was trapped in a state of larval existence. My life, confined within the schloss, was stifling as a tightly spun cocoon, but Carmilla's arrival had stirred a yearning for something more. A part of me craved the transformation she spoke of, a chance to break free from the chrysalis of my preordained life.
"What if the transformation doesn't happen?" I asked, eyeing the caterpillar dangling precariously above. "What if the caterpillar gets stuck or trapped in its cocoon?"
“Well…” Carmilla gently plucked the caterpillar from its silken thread, and it wriggled faintly, a blind, instinctive movement. Sometimes," she said, her voice a soft caress, "the cocoon needs a little help to break free."
Her other hand, light as a feather, brushed my cheek, and my breath hitched. Like the cicadas, shedding their exoskeletons to emerge with vibrant wings, I knew, with a deep, unsettling certainty, that I would too emerge from my chrysalis. But what would I become on the other side?
Carmilla wrapped a hand around my waist, a possessive claim that both startled and thrilled me. Her touch sent a spark that traveled down my spine like a wayward bolt of lightning.
"You said you wanted to show me the lake?" she said.
“Oh…yes. It’s just beyond the thicket.”
We pushed through the dense foliage, the air thick with the musky scent of damp earth and the sweet perfume of wildflowers. Finally, the trees parted, revealing a shimmering expanse of water that mirrored the vastness of the twilight sky.
“I come here sometimes,” I said. “To get away from it all. It feels more home than the schloss ever was.” The hidden lake, a jewel tucked away in the heart of the forest, had always been a private sanctuary until now. It was the first time I had shared it with someone else. That I wanted to share it with someone else.
“It’s beautiful.” Carmilla stood beside me, her silhouette stark against the fiery glow of the setting sun. "Shall we go for a swim?"
The thought of shedding my clothes, of standing before Carmilla in my most vulnerable state made my breath catch in my throat. For a moment, the world seemed to shrink to encompass only the intensity of her gaze and the unexpected yearning that flared within me.
"Alright," I managed.
We retreated to the secluded edge of the clearing, removing our garments one by one. The act felt like a slow, deliberate stripping away of not just my clothes, but also my inhibitions. I snuck glances at Carmilla's form, her body a sculpted symphony of curves and shadows bathed in the golden light. She reminded me of an ethereal beauty captured in classical paintings of goddesses and nymphs. The rosy, puckered nipples, the delicate indentations at the small of her back, each detail etched itself into my memory, arousing feelings that had been dormant until now.
Carmilla's gaze found mine, and it held a glimmer of knowing, as if she understood the tempest churning within me. Heat flooded my cheeks, a blush creeping up my neck. I felt exposed in front of her, raw. Yet, here she stood, unashamed in her nudity.
We were both stripped bare, standing at the bank of the lake, a precipice of something primal and unknown. A silent challenge flickered in the depths of her eyes. A dare, an invitation to a world I wasn't sure I belonged to.