"Christina..." I moaned as she moved her mouth down to my neck and ran her tongue along my collarbone. She pressed her body tight to mine. I closed my eyes, feeling her tongue running along my collarbone, her lips pressing light kisses against my warm skin.
I couldn't even believe that this was happening. I couldn't decipher what I was feeling, and all I knew was that Christina was kissing me and I liked it. I wasn't even paying attention to anything else, and when I opened my eyes, I noticed that somehow she had pulled me onto the couch. On top of me, kissing me passionately.
Still dazed, I brought my arms up and ran them through her blonde hair.
She pulled away after a few seconds, and looked into my eyes.
"Do it for me?" I whispered quietly, focusing my eyes into hers.
Christina looked at me hesitantly for a second, and then a smile crossed her face, and nodded. She got up off of me and kissed me again, before taking a cracker off of the table and putting it into her mouth, and chewing it slowly.
It took her awhile, put she managed to finish it and a few more, with a look of disgust on her face. When she was finished, she looked at me with an exhausted expression.
I smiled at her, brushing my lips against her cheek as I went to hug her tightly.
"I'm sorry for everything, Brit." Christina whispered softly against my ear, sending chills down my spine.
"Everything's okay..." I reassured her.
Christina pressed her lips against mine, and I slid my tongue in as she parted her lips. All I wanted to do was to resume what we were doing before, and she read my mind as she pushed me back onto the couch.
******
Christina's POV
******
The last few days have been hard, because I still wanted to not eat, and take laxatives when I did. Unfortunately for me, Britney had thrown them out, making sure I never got a hold on them again.
I still have the craving sometimes, because I feel worse than anything. But Britney makes me feel better, holds me when I'm down. She says that everything will be okay.
I'm starting to realize that I'm not as fucked up as I thought I was. I'm not as fat as I thought I was. And now, when I see models on shiny magazine covers in convenience stores, I just think to myself that they're not perfect, because now I know that they're not.
I've found Britney, and I'm sure, with no doubt in my mind, that we'll be spending the rest of our lives together. No one has ever made me feel the way she does. She has faith in me, and right now that's all that I need to overcome my problems.
My wrists are healed almost completely, and I don't have a strong urge to cut anymore. Britney told me that I'm beautiful, and that she loves me, and that I don't need to do that. So I don't.
Even though sometimes I doubt that things will work out in the end, I know that they will.
Because Britney told me they will.