RPFS Fic: Ice Blossom, Christina/Alyssa
Title: Ice Blossom
Pairing: Christina Aguilera/Alyssa Milano
Notes: Inspired by the Prompts at 2x5obsessions, rearranged into new groups of five per couple. Not being posted in order, but they should sort of circle round to one another anyway, so it doesn’t matter.
Previous: Part Four
Part Five: Ice Blossom
Christina/Alyssa
-
i. a black shirt
Christina leaves the crowd calmly, confidently, but as the people in the corridors lessen she speeds up her pace, faster and faster until she’s practically running to the toilet. Once inside the smell of over-scrubbed porcelain and pollen in all the changed-daily flowers does nothing to help her queasiness and throbbing head. Grasping the sides of the sink bowl and scraping her glue-on nails, Christina ducks her head down and breathes deep. It’s all too much.
Her hair is set with so many products it feels as though grease is soaking into her scalp. Her corset top is so tight she might pop out, and if she does she isn’t even sure she cares. It’ll splash across a few pages in a few newspapers, but it’s barely her in there anymore anyway.
She hears a sound, and turns quickly, patting at her hair as though she had only come in to check her reflection was picture perfect. A woman steps out of one of the stalls, and Christina thinks she recognises her from something on TV, or a movie or something. Christina doesn’t use the bathroom when she’s out on the town; photographers, nosey fans, other celebrities who want to get back at you; anyone could ruin your reputation at a bad moment. But this woman doesn’t seem to care, walking out of the cubicle the size of a real bathroom slinging her shirt over her shoulder. She wears a slinky, sexy dress, and the shirt was obviously to pretend she was trying to hide her deep cleavage and her smooth, tanned arms, but she’s no longer keeping hidden.
She doesn’t look at Christina as she reaches out to wash her hands minimally. She simply drops the black silk shirt on the floor at Christina’s feet as she leaves.
That is how it begins.
-
ii. a cruel illusion
Alyssa, that is her name after all, smiles as she presses Christina against the wall, almost sneers. The tile, for all it’s looks, are cold and Christina can feel goose-bumps spreading along her arms and legs. Slim but solid flesh pressed against her, black silk wound around her body, floral perfume spiralling round her sweetening the air more than the actual plants.
The lighting is low subtle, and it makes Alyssa look softer than she really is. She takes Christina’s pale hand and lifts it to her breast, daring her to hold back now that she’s really touching Alyssa for real.
It doesn’t take much persuasion after that. Alyssa has a gift for finding out when and where Christina is or will be; grabbing her quickly and quietly and taking her off to the make-up trailer, or a dressing room, or practically anywhere with walls and a door that can be locked from the inside.
The memories are always sweeter for Christina.
-
iii. all that is left
It takes a long time for her to see it that way, but Christina realises at some point that it became more than just sex for her, and became something else, something more. Something deeper. It became a point to hear Alyssa’s voice at least once a day, it became a constant wondering about what Alyssa was doing, who she was with, where they were going. It became a conscious effort to stop seething and going green with envy. Jealousy, the big issue. Something she never thought she’d ever have to deal with, ever. Most anyone she became involved with fawned over her, even if she didn’t want them to, and so she never had to worry what they were doing. They always loved her more than she loved them.
It takes even longer for Christina to realise that for Alyssa all it is, is sex. No conversations, no caring, no thoughtfulness or little gifts and surprises. Just want and need and lust. And she was too blind to see it.
-
iv. an empty heart
Christina always thought that in her job she would be too busy for love, and until Alyssa came along, life had proved her right. She didn’t get long enough in the day to make a connection and start to care that deeply. She had to worry about herself and where she was going, and what she was doing, and publicity and passion and fashion and weight, and all the other things that love would have dimmed a little. She always felt incapable of loving anyone the way she was, but sincerely hoped that one day when the biggest part of fame was behind her that her heart would wake from it’s hibernation and blossom, ready for the warmth of love to encourage it to flower properly. She could write a song about that.
But now that she knows the cold, hard truth, she knows it will no longer happen. Her heart becomes encased in ice; her hibernation will become permanent, and the sun will never shine on her again and melt the ice. No-one will ever get inside only to rip her apart from the middle out.
-
v. ruins at dusk
The ice doesn’t melt as she plots her revenge, her heart doesn’t stir and crack the casing. But Christina manages to crack her first smile in months, and for now that’s progress enough.
-
Pairing: Christina Aguilera/Alyssa Milano
Notes: Inspired by the Prompts at 2x5obsessions, rearranged into new groups of five per couple. Not being posted in order, but they should sort of circle round to one another anyway, so it doesn’t matter.
Previous: Part Four
Part Five: Ice Blossom
Christina/Alyssa
-
i. a black shirt
Christina leaves the crowd calmly, confidently, but as the people in the corridors lessen she speeds up her pace, faster and faster until she’s practically running to the toilet. Once inside the smell of over-scrubbed porcelain and pollen in all the changed-daily flowers does nothing to help her queasiness and throbbing head. Grasping the sides of the sink bowl and scraping her glue-on nails, Christina ducks her head down and breathes deep. It’s all too much.
Her hair is set with so many products it feels as though grease is soaking into her scalp. Her corset top is so tight she might pop out, and if she does she isn’t even sure she cares. It’ll splash across a few pages in a few newspapers, but it’s barely her in there anymore anyway.
She hears a sound, and turns quickly, patting at her hair as though she had only come in to check her reflection was picture perfect. A woman steps out of one of the stalls, and Christina thinks she recognises her from something on TV, or a movie or something. Christina doesn’t use the bathroom when she’s out on the town; photographers, nosey fans, other celebrities who want to get back at you; anyone could ruin your reputation at a bad moment. But this woman doesn’t seem to care, walking out of the cubicle the size of a real bathroom slinging her shirt over her shoulder. She wears a slinky, sexy dress, and the shirt was obviously to pretend she was trying to hide her deep cleavage and her smooth, tanned arms, but she’s no longer keeping hidden.
She doesn’t look at Christina as she reaches out to wash her hands minimally. She simply drops the black silk shirt on the floor at Christina’s feet as she leaves.
That is how it begins.
-
ii. a cruel illusion
Alyssa, that is her name after all, smiles as she presses Christina against the wall, almost sneers. The tile, for all it’s looks, are cold and Christina can feel goose-bumps spreading along her arms and legs. Slim but solid flesh pressed against her, black silk wound around her body, floral perfume spiralling round her sweetening the air more than the actual plants.
The lighting is low subtle, and it makes Alyssa look softer than she really is. She takes Christina’s pale hand and lifts it to her breast, daring her to hold back now that she’s really touching Alyssa for real.
It doesn’t take much persuasion after that. Alyssa has a gift for finding out when and where Christina is or will be; grabbing her quickly and quietly and taking her off to the make-up trailer, or a dressing room, or practically anywhere with walls and a door that can be locked from the inside.
The memories are always sweeter for Christina.
-
iii. all that is left
It takes a long time for her to see it that way, but Christina realises at some point that it became more than just sex for her, and became something else, something more. Something deeper. It became a point to hear Alyssa’s voice at least once a day, it became a constant wondering about what Alyssa was doing, who she was with, where they were going. It became a conscious effort to stop seething and going green with envy. Jealousy, the big issue. Something she never thought she’d ever have to deal with, ever. Most anyone she became involved with fawned over her, even if she didn’t want them to, and so she never had to worry what they were doing. They always loved her more than she loved them.
It takes even longer for Christina to realise that for Alyssa all it is, is sex. No conversations, no caring, no thoughtfulness or little gifts and surprises. Just want and need and lust. And she was too blind to see it.
-
iv. an empty heart
Christina always thought that in her job she would be too busy for love, and until Alyssa came along, life had proved her right. She didn’t get long enough in the day to make a connection and start to care that deeply. She had to worry about herself and where she was going, and what she was doing, and publicity and passion and fashion and weight, and all the other things that love would have dimmed a little. She always felt incapable of loving anyone the way she was, but sincerely hoped that one day when the biggest part of fame was behind her that her heart would wake from it’s hibernation and blossom, ready for the warmth of love to encourage it to flower properly. She could write a song about that.
But now that she knows the cold, hard truth, she knows it will no longer happen. Her heart becomes encased in ice; her hibernation will become permanent, and the sun will never shine on her again and melt the ice. No-one will ever get inside only to rip her apart from the middle out.
-
v. ruins at dusk
The ice doesn’t melt as she plots her revenge, her heart doesn’t stir and crack the casing. But Christina manages to crack her first smile in months, and for now that’s progress enough.
-