A/N: Mags has a secret that she is afraid to tell Riff, and the only
one she can turn to it Columbia. In this fic, you see the human side of
both Riff and Mags, and learn a bit about Columbia's mysterious past.
Please R&R
Disclaimer: No, I do not own any of these characters. *weeps her eyes out, wishing she owned Mags and Riff*
Magenta hugged the toilet, her knees quavering and eyes watering as she flushed the contents of her stomach down the drain. After she felt secure enough, she pulled herself off of the floor and went to look at herself in the mirror.
"I look like shit," she said to her reflection, her Transylvanian accent thick. She carefully regarded the white skin, blood-red lips, and frizzy mane of fiery curls that crowned her head. She heaved a long, loud sigh and walked into the room that she shared with Columbia, who was still asleep in her bed. She stopped when she came to the floor-length mirror, turning so that she could see herself from the side, and then pulling her skimpy, see-through black nightgown to her body.
She studied herself in the mirror, her pale, well-shaped legs and arms, and her stomach, which was still flat and had not yet begun to swell. Suddenly, hearing her roommate moan and turn over in bed, she jumped away from the mirror.
"Maggie," the younger woman said groggily. Magenta grimaced at the ridiculous nickname Columbia had insisted upon giving her, but still managed to reply nicely, "Vhat?"
"What's wrong? I heard you throwing up in the bathroom. You've been puking in there for a week. Are you sick?" the girl asked. Magenta bit her lip, feeling tears come to her eyes and thinking, "She knows".
"Ummm...yes, I am ill. Some strange virus, I guess," she replied. Columbia just nodded, groaned and went back to sleep. Ah, how Magenta wished that she too had the luxury of being able to sleep late. But no, she was a servant, and would be yelled at if breakfast wasn't prepared when her Master woke up, so she had to wake up at impossible hours of the morning.
Throwing on her uniform and not even bothering with makeup or her hair, she trudged out of the room and down to the kitchen.
"Good morning, my beloved Magenta," came a voice from behind her, and she turned around quickly to see her brother and the love of her life, RiffRaff, standing in the door to the kitchen. At the sight of him, the feeling of love, fear, and excitement that she always felt around him these days rose up within her.
"Err...ummm...good morning, brother," she answered. He gave her the bright, warm smile that she so seldomly saw these days, and then walked slowly to her, and upon reaching where she stood, he put his arms around her and lifted her slightly off of the ground.
"Oooh, Riff, please don't do that. I've been feeling ill lately," she said. He set her down lightly and apologized. He felt a slight coldness from her this morning, just as he had for the past few days.
"Well, I'll leave you to your cooking. I have my own duties to see to," he said, turning to leave. Magenta just nodded and watched him go. As soon as he was gone, she broke into tears. She knew he thought she was mad at him, knew that he stayed up late every night wondering why she had been treating him the way she did, why she avoided him by day and did not come to him at night.
"Oh, my RiffRaff, how I long for things to be the vay they vere, how I burn to feel your arms around me again, but if you knew the secret I hide, you'd be furious," she lamented, feeling the contents of her stomach once again churning. She leaned over the sink, turning on the water to cover up the sound of her retching.
Disclaimer: No, I do not own any of these characters. *weeps her eyes out, wishing she owned Mags and Riff*
Magenta hugged the toilet, her knees quavering and eyes watering as she flushed the contents of her stomach down the drain. After she felt secure enough, she pulled herself off of the floor and went to look at herself in the mirror.
"I look like shit," she said to her reflection, her Transylvanian accent thick. She carefully regarded the white skin, blood-red lips, and frizzy mane of fiery curls that crowned her head. She heaved a long, loud sigh and walked into the room that she shared with Columbia, who was still asleep in her bed. She stopped when she came to the floor-length mirror, turning so that she could see herself from the side, and then pulling her skimpy, see-through black nightgown to her body.
She studied herself in the mirror, her pale, well-shaped legs and arms, and her stomach, which was still flat and had not yet begun to swell. Suddenly, hearing her roommate moan and turn over in bed, she jumped away from the mirror.
"Maggie," the younger woman said groggily. Magenta grimaced at the ridiculous nickname Columbia had insisted upon giving her, but still managed to reply nicely, "Vhat?"
"What's wrong? I heard you throwing up in the bathroom. You've been puking in there for a week. Are you sick?" the girl asked. Magenta bit her lip, feeling tears come to her eyes and thinking, "She knows".
"Ummm...yes, I am ill. Some strange virus, I guess," she replied. Columbia just nodded, groaned and went back to sleep. Ah, how Magenta wished that she too had the luxury of being able to sleep late. But no, she was a servant, and would be yelled at if breakfast wasn't prepared when her Master woke up, so she had to wake up at impossible hours of the morning.
Throwing on her uniform and not even bothering with makeup or her hair, she trudged out of the room and down to the kitchen.
"Good morning, my beloved Magenta," came a voice from behind her, and she turned around quickly to see her brother and the love of her life, RiffRaff, standing in the door to the kitchen. At the sight of him, the feeling of love, fear, and excitement that she always felt around him these days rose up within her.
"Err...ummm...good morning, brother," she answered. He gave her the bright, warm smile that she so seldomly saw these days, and then walked slowly to her, and upon reaching where she stood, he put his arms around her and lifted her slightly off of the ground.
"Oooh, Riff, please don't do that. I've been feeling ill lately," she said. He set her down lightly and apologized. He felt a slight coldness from her this morning, just as he had for the past few days.
"Well, I'll leave you to your cooking. I have my own duties to see to," he said, turning to leave. Magenta just nodded and watched him go. As soon as he was gone, she broke into tears. She knew he thought she was mad at him, knew that he stayed up late every night wondering why she had been treating him the way she did, why she avoided him by day and did not come to him at night.
"Oh, my RiffRaff, how I long for things to be the vay they vere, how I burn to feel your arms around me again, but if you knew the secret I hide, you'd be furious," she lamented, feeling the contents of her stomach once again churning. She leaned over the sink, turning on the water to cover up the sound of her retching.
