In which Trixie Holloway only ever wanted to have a good time, and Damon Albarn just couldn't help himself.
The wild nights, of the Party Professor and the Slutty Superstar, led to an academic in the newspaper for all the wrong reasons. Battling the...
¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸ {Author's Note: I Know It's Over by The Smiths is a good listen whilst reading this chapter! x}
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Trix and Damon had fallen asleep in the afternoon, too lazy to do anything but snooze. When they'd awoken, it was dark outside, the city coming alive as Trixie put a pizza in the oven. Damon had left shortly after eating, placing a kiss on her cheek as he promised to be back for them going to Chrissy McKenzie's together. He hadn't been home in nearly twenty-four hours and he had to freshen up if he was going to walk in on Trixie's arm.
She let her shower warm up, eyeing the lotions and potions on her side as she decided what she needed for her everything shower. Trix scrubbed her body raw, sugary exfoliant softening her buttery skin as the suds gathered at her joints. The scent of banana that Damon had noticed clung to her skin was no mistake, a wash with a similar look and consistency of lemon curd smeared across the vivid ink of her tattoos, a creamy curdle that glistened against her tan skin.
She shaved, almost, every inch of her body, wanting to feel smooth to the touch for all the cupping and pinching Damon would no doubt be doing throughout the night. Even then, in the thick steam that was choking her, she questioned what she was doing, was it just a bit of fun? It didn't feel like it. Trix was cleansing her body of his touch, just to make it softer and more inviting for him to do it all over again. His efforts to find her after weeks and weeks of searching had obviously knocked a few of her walls down, but she was crawling on her hands and knees through the rubble, desperate to piece it back together no matter how much it hurt her; it was futile trying to stay out of love with Damon Albarn.
By the time she'd stepped out of the shower, her hair felt as luscious as it does when leaving the hairdressers and she felt smoother and softer than any baby ever would. The heat had done wonders for her tired, winter-beaten skin and she was somewhat excited to put on makeup, knowing that it'd look as good as it felt.
She was just sliding her heels on when Damon knocked on the door, he knew he was making progress with her as he now knew the code to get into her block of flats. Trix hobbled over to the door, walking unevenly considering she was yet to put on one of her shoes.
"I think I'm hard." Damon blurted when she let him in. "Oh gross." She teased, taking in his ironed shirt, perfectly scruffy hair and jeans before muttering, "Jade was right, you are quite dishy." "Me? Dishy? Sorry I'm too busy trying to comprehend whatever the hell this is." He gestured to Trix and how utterly otherworldly she looked.
She blushed at his admittance, not that he could tell as she'd already dusted a vibrant, babydoll pink across her cheeks. Trix was dressed in a lilac glittery dress with a flattering neckline and a very short hem, she was bronzed and glowy and looked as if she'd been sprinkled with fairy dust - at least in Damon's eyes.
"But what the hell are they?" He dropped his pointer finger to her heels that she'd just finished slipping on. Trix was wearing the outlandish shoes he'd spotted hung up yesterday but didn't have chance to comment on. They were slingback, rhinestone heels bedazzled in a floral pattern of garish pinks, purples and greens. "They're my favourites." She beamed, giddily tapping them against the floor as she stood up, "Don't you like them?" But Damon was too preoccupied with how they made her legs look - before they disappeared under that pesky dress - to take full notice of what she'd asked, "Yeah, love 'em." He gawked.
