/I'm branching out of m/m slash and writing slashiness of the f/f variety, so if it seems a little strained at all, please have patience with me. I've never written f/f before. This is the first chapter and very short, so tell me if the story seems interesting at all yet.

Ten points to anyone who can guess what fairy tale I'm very loosely basing this off of!/

Like the Sky Was Falling

When I met her, once upon a time, it was like looking in an obsidian mirror. Everything about me that was hidden, that was locked away in my secret shadowed heart, was written so clear on her face. I hated her.

She stood in the sunlight and her eyes were closed, long smudgy eyelashes fanning delicately over her cheekbones. Her face was tilted up to the light and it looked ivory-green, just the faintest tint of serene leaf-green in her pale skin. Her hair was dyed black, anyone could tell it wasn't really supposed to be that color, but it didn't matter because it was now and the color suited her. Maybe it was more the fact that she was trying to change it to be something she wanted that suited her, though.

And her eyes were the strangest yellow-brown I'd ever seen, almost amber when she opened them and looked directly at me. I turned away and crossed my arms tight over my breasts, angry for some reason I didn't understand.

I drew in a breath and held it in like I would never let it go. I hated school; I hated having to hide behind my own fake smile to gain the fake smiles of everyone else. Nothing was real there. Nothing was right. As for me, well, I was the least real.

That's why I was angry, I realized. I would never dare let my hair fall loose and my feet go bare under the bright sunlight in a parking lot, soaking in the sunshine like a walking magnolia tree. She wasn't playing the game and she couldn't care less. When she had looked at me, her eyes were clear as the sky.

So I walked with my head held high into the squat, square building and hid behind all my masks again, afraid to see her again and wanting to, just the same.

High school is a test of endurance. If you can endure the schoolwork, the teachers, the people, and yourself. I could barely last the whole day in the swirling mess of brittle-bright words and fake plastic smiles, but I managed. I had managed for three fucking years and I wasn't about to fall now.

Popularity is overrated. Everyone wants to be loved by everyone else except for those who are. Loved, I mean. I watched the happy people and saw the cracks in the eyes. It made me want to laugh but I knew that if I did, it would be harsh and tortured and I'd be carted away to a shrink. I was falling apart from the inside, too. No one wanted to know who you really were; just play the game and get through and one day, maybe, be someone real. It doesn't matter if you want that reality now, that's not how things are done.

Yes, yes, I knew and I know but I want to be real. I want to say what I feel without fear.

She was looking at me again in math class. She sat two seats back, one row to my left, and I could feel her eyes on me like fire. I had turned to say something to Aaron, who sat right in front of her, laughing in that sweet, fake manner that girls are supposed to laugh in, just so I could I study her out of the corner of my eye.

Plain blue jeans and a baggy white blouse with long sleeves over a slender body. She couldn't have been much taller than me. She was twirling her hair around her fingers, watching me. I wanted to say something rude, wanted to ask her what the fuck she was looking at, but I didn't dare. What if she said she was looking at me? What would I say? Would it matter to her if everyone thought she was weird for staring at me?

I knew that it wouldn't. Don't ask me how I knew; I just did.

I found out her name in that class. Christine Sherada. She asked to be called Chris. When the teacher called my name, I could feel her staring at me again. I felt even more exposed, like those old superstitions: don't let people know your real name, because that can give them power over you. Class was over before I had found my cool again and I tried to get out of there quickly.

"Laura?"

It was true, I thought. About the names. When she said my name it was like I froze.

"Yes?" I asked, fake-smiling. She didn't smile back, just looked at me with calm, warm eyes. They were warm but I was cold, and I shivered.

"I'm glad that we have a class together," she said, her voice smooth and strong. I stared at her like 'what?' but she just smiled and walked away. I watched her walk away and felt like the world had just flipped itself around while I wasn't paying attention. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Are you okay?" someone asked me- it was Natalie, my friend for six years, my friend who still didn't know that there were times I'd like to strangle her for her ignorance when it came to just about everything- and I nodded, gathering up what composure I could and walking with her down to history, listening to her babble and trying to dismiss the image of bright amber eyes and sweet, smooth skin.

/Review if you like, flame if you have to, blink in confusion if you just don't get it./