carmilla: (Generic slash icon)


"What the hell are you doing?" yelled Griffin, disentangling himself from Demian's arms.

The beginnings of Demian's apology for who knows what imagined offence were quickly cut off by Griffin's reassurances. He glared up at me, attempting to preserve what remained of his dignity by means of a bedsheet.

“Honestly! Surely you’ve learned by now that when we lock doors around here, it’s for a reason.”

“Griffin,” I drawled, happy to have the upper hand over the supercillious bastard for a change, “surely you’ve learned by this point that it takes more than a locked door to thwart the Master’s will.”

He drew his arms up, protectively.

“I have not disobeyed him.”

“Oh, but you have. I was entrusted with teaching this one about his new body. That means that what you were doing” - I crossed the floor to stand directly in front of him – “is my task.”

I captured Demian’s chin in my hand, looking deep into his wide-opened eyes.

“And I intend to see it through.”

I pressed those parted lips with a kiss, and Griffin could only watch me do it.