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anactoriaTitle: Elements of Change
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
anactoria
Fandom: Losing Christina – Caroline B. Cooney
Rating: PG
Pairings: Christina/Anya
Disclaimer: No own, no sue.
Word count: 300
Summary: This is a triple drabble based on Caroline B. Cooney's Losing Christina trilogy. Femmeslash if you squint right, but I think you can read it as friendship fic too if you want. I didn't intend it to be a Christmassy fic, but for some reason it is.
The fog is thick, heavy as deep water, blurring edges and swallowing sounds. Passers-by move slowly, swimmers or sleepwalkers.
“Chrissie.”
The voice is muffled to a dreamy whisper, and Christina stumbles back six years, stomach lurching. She’s in the cellar, trying desperately not to breathe; she’s at her bedroom window, the tide calling her down to Candle Cove.
“Chrissie? C’mon, we’re late! Don’t you think this jacket would suit Blake?” And Anya’s dragging her into another store, eyes shining. They’re grown-ups now, and it’s nearly Christmas. But Christina links her arm through Anya’s, and holds on tightly all the same.
***
All flights to Maine are still grounded due to heavy snow. Passengers are advised to stay tuned for the latest…
The doorbell rings, and Christina drags herself out of her funk and off the couch, stumbling over her packed-and-going-nowhere suitcases in the hall.
“My flight got cancelled too. I brought marshmallows.” It’s Anya, wearing a red scarf and a red smile, snowflakes glittering in her dark hair like tiny jewels.
The hot chocolate is wonderful, just like they used to drink it in Christina’s parents’ kitchen back on Burning Fog. Thick, scalding hot, and covered in whipped cream. Tastes like home.
***
After their snowed-in Christmas, Anya stays the week. All Christina’s roommates are home for the holidays, so they have the rickety old house to themselves.
On New Year’s Eve, they sit up talking all night. And when it’s time to watch the sunrise they pull on coats over their pyjamas and sit out on the porch, clutching mugs of hot coffee to warm their hands.
“Why’d you come and see me, anyway?” Christina asks. “I mean, it’s nice and all. But… why not Blake?”
Anya just shrugs, wordless, and Christina thinks she understands.
Silently, dawn sets the horizon on fire.
Author:
anactoriaFandom: Losing Christina – Caroline B. Cooney
Rating: PG
Pairings: Christina/Anya
Disclaimer: No own, no sue.
Word count: 300
Summary: This is a triple drabble based on Caroline B. Cooney's Losing Christina trilogy. Femmeslash if you squint right, but I think you can read it as friendship fic too if you want. I didn't intend it to be a Christmassy fic, but for some reason it is.
The fog is thick, heavy as deep water, blurring edges and swallowing sounds. Passers-by move slowly, swimmers or sleepwalkers.
“Chrissie.”
The voice is muffled to a dreamy whisper, and Christina stumbles back six years, stomach lurching. She’s in the cellar, trying desperately not to breathe; she’s at her bedroom window, the tide calling her down to Candle Cove.
“Chrissie? C’mon, we’re late! Don’t you think this jacket would suit Blake?” And Anya’s dragging her into another store, eyes shining. They’re grown-ups now, and it’s nearly Christmas. But Christina links her arm through Anya’s, and holds on tightly all the same.
***
All flights to Maine are still grounded due to heavy snow. Passengers are advised to stay tuned for the latest…
The doorbell rings, and Christina drags herself out of her funk and off the couch, stumbling over her packed-and-going-nowhere suitcases in the hall.
“My flight got cancelled too. I brought marshmallows.” It’s Anya, wearing a red scarf and a red smile, snowflakes glittering in her dark hair like tiny jewels.
The hot chocolate is wonderful, just like they used to drink it in Christina’s parents’ kitchen back on Burning Fog. Thick, scalding hot, and covered in whipped cream. Tastes like home.
***
After their snowed-in Christmas, Anya stays the week. All Christina’s roommates are home for the holidays, so they have the rickety old house to themselves.
On New Year’s Eve, they sit up talking all night. And when it’s time to watch the sunrise they pull on coats over their pyjamas and sit out on the porch, clutching mugs of hot coffee to warm their hands.
“Why’d you come and see me, anyway?” Christina asks. “I mean, it’s nice and all. But… why not Blake?”
Anya just shrugs, wordless, and Christina thinks she understands.
Silently, dawn sets the horizon on fire.
