Color Perception
Title: Color Perception
Rating: G
A/N: Inspired by a comment birdtaurasilove wrote last night.
Word Count: Two separate but tied-together 100-word drabbles. I'm picky.
Fandom: WNBA (sportsslash)
Disclaimer: People real, story fake, slash faker.
Pairing: That locker-decorating, pants-removing, marvelously versatile old standby, Becky and Crystal. You can see them flicker by in the icon.
You don't know what to think when you see her with the blonde who looks like her sister: the one you've seen wearing the blue striped shirt you saw the last time you did laundry, the topic of all the gossip on 33rd Street. She says she loves you; you should be glad, but you aren't perfect like she deserves.
So you ask her after the game one night. And she laughs.
"Crys, I love you 'cause you're not another blonde." She runs her fingers through your nappy hair, down your brown-skinned cheek, along the contour of your blissful smile.
You don't know what to think when you see her and Vickie laughing together. Sometimes you wonder if she wants someone more like her, if you'd both be better off separate.
Vickie sleeps on your couch one night after her blue-eyed girl kicks her out; you stay up all night, waiting to see if Crystal will go to her.
Crystal sees you watching, so you blurt the question out. She laughs. "Darlin', what would I do with another me? I love more than this-" she strokes your blonde hair- "or this-" she looks into your pale eyes. "I love you."
Rating: G
A/N: Inspired by a comment birdtaurasilove wrote last night.
Word Count: Two separate but tied-together 100-word drabbles. I'm picky.
Fandom: WNBA (sportsslash)
Disclaimer: People real, story fake, slash faker.
Pairing: That locker-decorating, pants-removing, marvelously versatile old standby, Becky and Crystal. You can see them flicker by in the icon.
You don't know what to think when you see her with the blonde who looks like her sister: the one you've seen wearing the blue striped shirt you saw the last time you did laundry, the topic of all the gossip on 33rd Street. She says she loves you; you should be glad, but you aren't perfect like she deserves.
So you ask her after the game one night. And she laughs.
"Crys, I love you 'cause you're not another blonde." She runs her fingers through your nappy hair, down your brown-skinned cheek, along the contour of your blissful smile.
You don't know what to think when you see her and Vickie laughing together. Sometimes you wonder if she wants someone more like her, if you'd both be better off separate.
Vickie sleeps on your couch one night after her blue-eyed girl kicks her out; you stay up all night, waiting to see if Crystal will go to her.
Crystal sees you watching, so you blurt the question out. She laughs. "Darlin', what would I do with another me? I love more than this-" she strokes your blonde hair- "or this-" she looks into your pale eyes. "I love you."