Chapter Text
The music reverberated off the mansion walls, a blend of modern pop and eerie melodies intended to capture the spirit of Halloween. This year, Mitzi had opted for a larger, more welcoming space, free from the sinister rumors that had haunted her previous properties; there would be no staged appearances by the three faceless sisters or anything of the sort.
Bloom’s decision to accept the invitation to her party had been an internal process fraught with misgivings. The memory of the prank Mitzi had played on her a couple of years ago was still fresh in her mind, giving her a pang of distrust. However, her desire for Icy, whose home world was completely unfamiliar with the human tradition of Halloween, to experience and understand this peculiar celebration was a powerful incentive. She wanted to see the curiosity in her eyes, explain the symbolism behind the costumes, and perhaps find in the night a new point of connection between their two such disparate realities.
Bloom’s soprano dress, inspired by the Phantom of the Opera, was a work of art in white taffeta and lace that swirled around her figure. It was dazzling, there was no doubt about it; it perfectly captured the tragic and romantic essence of the character, but the inner corset, necessary for her Victorian silhouette, felt uncomfortable, digging into her ribs with every breath. Beside her, Icy was the embodiment of the shadow that inspired her own costume. It wasn’t just the black suit that clung to her figure, nor the cape that billowed behind her, it was her refined bearing that transformed the costume into an extension of her very essence. The mask that covered half of her face revealed the intensity of her piercing blue eyes, which scanned the room with a hint of curiosity.
Without realizing it, Bloom squeezed her girlfriend’s hand, seeking support in the crowd. The house was packed with strangers in costume: witches in pointy hats, vampires with plastic fangs, superheroes in brightly colored capes, zombies with excessive bloody makeup, and women taking the opportunity to show off in suggestive outfits. Despite all this, it was Icy who effortlessly drew all eyes to her own particular compass point; in fact, her indifference was quite clear. But there was an innate authority in her gait, a grace that skewed the stridency of the surroundings and imposed order. Men and women stopped in their tracks when they saw her, and even the hostess’s gaze was drawn again and again to the spectral figure.
"This is noisy... and uncomfortable." Icy complained, speaking in a tense whisper into her partner’s ear. She brought her fingers to her neck, trying to relieve the pressure. The shirt’s high, stiff collar was choking her. For a brief moment, she cursed her choice of costume. She would have chosen simple, dark clothing that suited her practical and austere nature, but when Bloom showed her the designs she had prepared, she couldn’t refuse anything. Her girlfriend’s tenderness and enthusiasm were a spell she couldn’t, and didn’t want to, resist.
"Let me help you." Bloom offered with a sweet, understanding smile, sensing Icy’s discomfort. She gently untied the bow that crowned her girlfriend’s neck and undid the top buttons of her shirt, relieving the pressure on the other woman’s throat. Her porcelain skin was exposed, revealing the fragile and elegant architecture of her collarbones. A sudden heat rose up Bloom’s neck, tinting her cheeks pink. «This isn't the time or the place», she chided herself mentally, but the image of that sculpted beauty had been etched into her mind. "Ready." She announced, tho her voice sounded a bit hoarser than usual, betraying the fleeting desire she had just suppressed.
A slow smile, laden with deep tenderness, spread across Icy’s lips, completely transforming her ice-carved face.
"Thank you, baby." Icy whispered, her gloved hand slid over, gently holding Bloom’s. She raised it ceremoniously and, without taking her eyes, placed a tender, lingering kiss on the back of her hand, making Bloom’s cheeks match the color of her hair.
"You know? Halloween can be chaotic..." Bloom admitted with a genuine giggle of delight that sprang from relief and happiness. A broad smile lit up her flushed face. "But believe me, it's fun too." She added, trying to convey the peculiar magic hidden in that mess. But her effusive smile faltered, then flattened almost imperceptibly when she caught the movement of a group of women dressed as vampires out of the corner of her eye. They weren’t laughing or dancing, they were huddled together, whispering among themselves, and all of them had their curious eyes fixed on Icy. A hot, unpleasant pang shot thru her chest, momentarily dimming the evening’s brilliance.
"Funny, huh." Icy tilted her head, assessing the noisy, absurd scene. Her eyes didn’t conceal her disdain for the human frenzy around her very well. She could barely tolerate the constant hustle and bustle of a workday on Earth, voluntarily attending a party with over-the-top costumes, grating laughter, and deafening music was an entirely different sacrifice, a test of patience she would never have considered enduring. Although, when she turned her gaze to Bloom and glimpsed the hope in her eyes—the childlike wonder she still held for these quaint human traditions—her expression softened. The ice in her heart melted. She didn’t want to disappoint her. For her, for that spark of warmth and color that her beloved had managed to ignite in the cold landscape of her soul, it was worth trying, enduring the chaos just to share in her light.
"Very well." She said in a velvety voice that managed to cut thru the din. She shrugged with nonchalant grace. "You're the expert." Her tone took on a new quality, shedding its indifference and adopting a mischievous undertone that hung in the air. "So, guide me, my soprano." The words spilled out delicately. A slow wink appeared behind the white mask, meant for the woman who held her heart.
An even more intense blush crept up the redhead’s neck and cheeks, making her forget the vampires, the music, and everything but the woman with the icy eyes.
For a moment, everything seemed to flow like a dream. They danced to a sensual pop song with suggestive lyrics, moving in sync. The outside world faded into the background, all that mattered was the contact of their bodies, the sway of their hips marking the beat, the accidental caress of their hands, the smiles that adorned their lips. In those moments, Bloom could convince herself that the magic of Halloween was real and had cast a spell on the nite just for the two of them.
But the fragile charm shattered abruptly the moment Bloom could no longer ignore the voracious gazes fixed on Icy, nor the whispers that followed her. Her girlfriend’s magnetic aura was a siren’s song that drew admiring and lascivious gazes into her orbit. First, it was a girl with a flirty smile, wearing a devilish outfit that left very little to the imagination. She moved thru the crowd and, with a brazen wink, offered Icy a glass of alcohol, sliding her fingers along the witch’s arm with such familiarity that Bloom saw it as the worst of insults. And just across the punch table, a man dressed as a zombie pirate kept devouring Icy with his eyes, making Bloom’s blood boil.
"Pixie..." Icy’s soft, seductive voice traveled thru the music and the murmur of the crowd. Her eyes, visible thru the mask, were fixed on her, reading the tension that stiffened her shoulders and jaw. "Relax."
Bloom tried to heed her, to flash the smile her girl had asked for, but her lips trembled, betrayed by the racing pulse pounding in her chest. Every stranger who dared to get too close to Icy made her stomach churn. It came as no surprise, Icy was a beauty, and that black suit clinging to her curves only amplified her charm. However, the venomous, corrosive jealousy burned in her gut, consuming her with a possessive heat that dried her throat. Were they blind, after all? Or did they simply not care much about respect? Icy already had an owner. Her heart, that cold and complex territory she had worked so hard to conquer, was already claimed, and those smiles and glances from others felt like an attempt at usurpation, a threat to the precious prize of a dangerous dragon.
"It's just that..." Bloom began to explain, desperately trying to put into words the insecurity that gnawed at her soul. She wanted to articulate the fear that someone, with a bolder smile, a clever compliment, or incredible beauty, could snatch away the treasure she had worked so hard to win. But the confession remained stuck on the tip of her tongue, disintegrated by a sudden presence that completely altered the chemistry of the space around her. Mitzi burst into her bubble out of nowhere. Her fallen angel costume was a masterpiece of innuendo. Her arrival wasn’t just a friendly approach; it was a direct incursion aimed at capturing everyone’s attention.
"Wow, you really know how to stand out." Mitzi delivered the compliment, addressing Icy exclusively with a flirty smile. She ran her gaze up and down her figure, exuding a clear intention. She leaned forward, confidently invading the witch’s personal space, causing Bloom’s knuckles to turn white as she clenched her fists. "That costume... it suits you too well." She bit her lip with open, provocative audacity, holding Icy’s gaze. "It looks like it was made just for you."
Icy, for her part, didn’t flinch visibly, but she held herself in check, absorbing the intrusion with composure. She arched her eyebrows slightly above the edge of her mask, surprised more by the audacity and lack of protocol than by the attention itself. She didn’t show any hostility, but rather a kind of distant curiosity.
"Thanks?" she replied calmly, in stark contrast to the tide of emotions that was churning within Bloom. An arrogant half-smile spread across her lips. There was no way to deny the truth, nor did she try to. Deep down, in the core of her being where her ego nested, she liked the attention. She had always liked being the center of attention, the object of admiration and, why not, of desire. It was the fuel that fed her power, the external confirmation of her unquestionable relevance. Under the admiring and lascivious gaze of this human, that part of her that craved recognition felt deeply satisfied.
An invisible crack opened in the ground, right beneath Bloom’s feet, or at least that was the sensation that overcame her. It wasn’t the music’s pounding that made the ground tremble; it was Icy’s voice. That playful tone, not flirtatious, but indulgently receptive, a nuance that acknowledged and accepted Mitzi’s compliment without rejecting it caused her physical pain in her chest, a sharp tightness behind her sternum that made it hard to breathe.
Mitzi let out a sharp giggle and placed a hand on Icy’s arm, sensuously sliding her fingers over the black velvet of the suit. She did it with an absolute lack of urgency and total indifference to Bloom’s presence, as if the fact that the bride was standing just two steps away, staring with wide eyes and a look of disbelief, were an irrelevant detail.
"You know?" Mitzi resumed speaking, leaning even closer to Icy and lowering her voice to create a false bubble of intimacy for the sole purpose of excluding Bloom. "You should drop by my next party. You'd fit in really well in with my circle." The words weren’t just a simple invitation; they were a recruitment, a subtle suggestion that Icy belonged to a higher stratum than Bloom could never aspire to.
«You'd fit in really well», that sounded like a euphemism for something else, something Bloom didn't want to imagine. A searing, bitter heat rose from the depths of her being, flooding her chest. Without even realizing it, her nails dug into the palms of her hands. Her heart hammered furiously against the corset, ready to break her ribs. The fire of jealousy intensified, devouring her reason and scorching the edges of her composure. A little voice in her mind reminded her to breathe and stay calm. It whispered to her that Icy was with her, that she had chosen her, that they had built a life together, far from the dramas of the Magic Dimension, in the privacy of their apartment. But Mitzi’s venom, distilled over years of rivalry and disdain, and seeing Icy handle the situation with that haughty confidence that came so naturally to her, didn’t enrage her with an outburst of anger. It was tearing her apart in a much quieter, deeper way. It was a slow rot gnawing at the foundations of her self-assurance, making her feel invisible, exposed, and terribly ordinary amid her girlfriend’s splendor.
The knot in her throat became so tight that she couldn’t swallow her saliva. The air around her had become unbreathable, saturated with Mitzi’s cloying perfume and the static electricity of the flirtation unfolding before her eyes.
"I'm going to get some air." Bloom said abruptly, sounding sharper than she’d intended. She didn’t wait for her partner’s response, turned around, and made her way thru the crowd, gently nudging a couple of people. She left behind the music, the laughter, and Icy, right in the center of the whirlwind of gazes.
Of course Icy noticed the gazes fixed on her. It was a familiar sensation, a power she carried in her blood, a legacy from her days as a villain, when she manipulated with a single glance. But on this occasion, amid the frivolity of that deadly party, that attention was nothing more than a superficial game, a vain pastime to kill time in a mundane setting. She wasn’t interested in anyone; they were mere extras on the stage of her boredom. However, that cold calculation vanished in an instant when she saw Bloom’s back receding. Her chest tightened with a pang of alarm. «Shit», she cursed inwardly, recognizing her catastrophic mistake. She was fully aware that she had crossed an invisible line, although arrogance had until that moment prevented her from discerning where that boundary was drawn and the damage her indolence had caused.
"Excuse me." Her voice, devoid of any hint of playfulness, cut thru Mitzi’s chatter with coldness. The tone was so sharp that it forced the girl to take a few steps back, surprised by the sudden shift. But Mitzi, stubborn and believing she could still regain control of the situation, reached out with determination and grabbed her arm firmly.
"Leave her alone." Mitzi spat out with disdain. "Bloom has always been the weird one in the group. She’s not worth your attention or your concern." The curve at the corners of her mouth became compassionate and false. "You'd better come with me, darling. I assure you, you’ll have a much better time. I know a place that’s much more… interesting." The insinuation spilled out, ignoring the dangerous glint that was beginning to ignite in Icy’s eyes.
That display of contempt, directed at the person who mattered most in her world, caused the thin veneer of false composure that Icy maintained to shatter completely. Every contemptuous syllable Mitzi uttered against Bloom made her blood boil in her veins; the heat of her fury clashed with the cold of her essence. Behind the mask, her eyes lit up with a dangerous glow. She broke free from Mitzi’s grip with a sharp yank, and the cold of her magic answered the call of her anger, instantly gathering at her fingertips and forming a thin layer of frost beneath her skin. The temptation to freeze that despicable woman’s mocking smile, to turn her into an ice monument in the middle of her own party, was overwhelming.
But at the last second, just as the cold was about to unleash itself in an Arctic gale, the image of Bloom’s disappointed gaze flashed thru her mind. Because, despite the rage she felt, her girlfriend wouldn’t have liked her resorting to violence, staining the nite with her old, destructive nature. Icy gritted her teeth and, with superhuman effort, clenched her fist, forcing her magic to recede.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. Instead of attacking, she let the truth come out—raw, powerful, and stripped of any artifice.
"Bloom is my girlfriend!" Icy exclaimed, exuding a protective ferocity. It resonated so much that for a moment it silenced the music around her, and a few heads turned toward her. Mitzi was left speechless, her eyes wide open, not so much by the statement itself as by the fiery tempest and conviction with which it had been delivered. "And just so you know..." Icy stepped forward, causing Mitzi to step back and flinch out of sheer survival instinct. "I love her more than anything in this world or any other, and I’ll marry her soon." The sentence fell clear and irrevocable. At that moment, under Mitzi’s astonished gaze, it became clear to both of them that this love—the bond she had tried to belittle—was infinitely more valuable than any power game or cheap attention. It was Icy’s most prized possession, and she would defend it with everything she had.
She shot one last contemptuous look at Mitzi, then turned and ran toward where Bloom had gone.