Hello all! :D

This is my first RHPS story, it was inspired after listening to the song "Stars" by t.A.T.u.

How did we ever get this far?
It shouldn't have to be this hard.
Now for the first time in my life
I'm flying.
Are we in love? Do we deserve
To bear the shame of this whole world?
And like the night we camouflage
Denial.

I do not own Rocky Horror, the glorious and beautiful, Richard O`Brien does. :]

Please read and review-- I'd very much appreciate some feedback and critique, negative or positive.

(Magenta's POV)

I was frozen and shivering as I crouched into my flimsy coat- I suppose you could say that I'd been in such a blind rage from storming out of my home that I had stupidly forgotten to grab something warm to wear. These Transylvanian nights were the most frigid this time of the year. Then again, who in their right mind thought of such things when they were busy running towards the door, trying to dodge an onslaught of glasses and kitchen knives anyway?

I really needed to watch what I said around my mother- She had become such a violent alcoholic ever since dad left us. Riff and I hadn't been that affected by it. In a sense, you might say we had seen it coming. However mommy dearest, too enraptured in her whiskey bottle, was blindsided by the whole ordeal. She drank more and more and her bitter resentment for dad ultimately was redirected towards us.

Well, not so much 'us' as, myself. Riff was the master of being elusive when mother hit the bottle. Oh no, not me. I happened to continually be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

Lucky me.

Today wouldn't have gotten to this degree of insanity if my dearest brother had been there to calm me down like he always did. Even when dad was around and before mom picked up drinking, when we were a relatively 'happy' family, my brother was the only one who could quell my temper when I would get upset. Thinking about it I wondered where he was now, probably out with a few of his classmates from the academy.

I glanced down at my watch, 11:10 PM. He would most likely be arriving home at this time and mom was probably passed out on the couch, like always. Somehow though, I didn't feel like risking the walk home, it was dangerous for me. I was only sixteen and still a virgin, and wanted to keep it this way until I found someone I loved. Of course, this was strange and possibly considered an old-fashioned way of thinking on our planet. We were a very free-thinking breed of people and were taught at a very young age about sex and how being sexually open was not only accepted but encouraged.

Of course, old-fashioned or not, this didn't mean I was prude. I'd done my fair share of experimenting with all sorts: men, women and everything in-between. But somehow I just didn't feel that spark (that I had promised myself was necessary to even consider losing my virginity) when I kissed them. I could be patient though, no problem. I mean, look at my brother, he hadn't even kissed yet! Than again, he was very picky but also very sought after at the academy. If he could manage 19 years without so much as a date, then I could manage holding onto my virginity. I held a very high sense of self-preservation, you could say.

I was sitting now on the rocks that overlooked the sea, the shores were moon-drenched and positively glowing with radiance which our many moons emanated. This way my favorite spot in the world. It was where my brother had taken me after dad left and where he promised me that he would always be around to protect and be there for me. I guess at the time, hearing those words had really meant a lot to me because the second he'd spoken them, I'd started bawling my eyes out and clinging to him for comfort.

Looking back on it, I suppose it was a bit funny considering how hard I'd been trying to pretend that father leaving us didn't hurt. I hated crying, it made me feel so weak and vulnerable and worst of all- pathetic. However, there was Riff Raff, sturdy and stable as always; there to hold me when my façade broke and I had no one to turn to. I guess I'm a bit of a loner. It's not that I'm disliked, no, not at all. It's the complete opposite. I immensely dislike just about everyone aside from my brother. Too many times I let my walls down only to get hurt time and time again. After all these experience I learned quite quickly who to trust and who not to.

Besides, those people that I'd dated never wanted to get to know me, rather, they wanted to get to know my body. It repulsed me. Only my brother knew the real me. Until there was somebody who wanted me for me and not for sex, it would stay that way. My walls would be up and strengthened with steel.

As if on cue, a voice, stern yet kind, brought me out of my reservoir of thoughts.

"Magenta, what are you doing out here so late by yourself? It's dangerous."

I than glanced back to see Riff taking off his heavy coat and draping it over my shoulders as he gave me his hand and helped me to my feet.

"Mom is what happened." I replied, glancing away and still upset that she'd gone this far tonight. She had never tried to physically hurt me before. She was like an insect in a cocoon- instead of changing into something beautiful, she was slowly transforming into a hideous thing that I was ashamed to be of the same flesh and blood.

He looked upon me with weary eyes as if to continue on with explaining what happened. Lord, why was it so important to know? It had happened and that was all that mattered, wasn't it?

Sighing in defeat, knowing that he probably wouldn't move until I'd explained, I took a deep breath before telling the story.

"She accused me of drinking her last bottle of whiskey, even though it had been lying empty beside her the entire time." I cursed her stupidity under my breath, "Of course, I denied it because I hadn't even known she had another bottle. . . Then she accused me of being a liar and we started fighting. I wasn't going to take crap from anyone, let alone her. She hated how defiant I was, and that's when the throwing of glasses and knives commenced."

"She threw stuff at you?" Riff asked me, shocked and in disbelief, his eyebrows furrowed with anger and resentment for leaving me alone with her.

"Mhmm, see for yourself." I reluctantly replied, turning and exposing my back where a deep gash resided, the dried blood staining my thin white nightgown.

Then to my surprise, my brother lost it and began screaming and cursing our mother for hurting me. He even went as far as to say that he'd never leave me alone again, which shocked me even further.

"Riff," I began, bringing my pale hand up to his cheek, caressing it softly, "You're overreacting. I'm not about to let you give up your social life just to baby sit me."

"Overreacting?!" His eyes were flickering with anger still, our poor mother the target of all of this malice. "I am not overreacting, you're my sister, blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh…" Suddenly his expression softened and he smiled ever so slightly, bringing his hand up to mine and holding it still against his cheek. "Remember the promise I made here, to protect you? Well, I'm just keeping to my word. . ."

Somehow, the manner of which he had spoken had flustered me, causing the blood to rush up to my cheeks. Why was I blushing?! This was my brother, for heaven's sake. . . I tried to desperately shake this odd feeling away from whence it came and thankfully, his voice broke the awkwardness that seemed to only affect me.

"Come on, my beautiful sister, it's time we go back home." he said, taking my hand, which was still pressed against his cheek, and intertwining his fingers with mine as we started walking home.

Somehow, there was this flutter in my heart that I just couldn't place nor escape for the life of me. It was unnerving, to say the least, yet it wasn't necessarily bad. Having him there with me, walking hand in hand, I felt on top of the world. Nothing would stand in our way, especially not our cowardly mother.

When we got inside, we ascended the stairs as quietly as we could manage so as not to wake our mother (who was in fact passed out on the couch like I predicted), then headed towards our bedrooms. He suddenly pulled me to him. His crystal gaze penetrated my own, making my breath catch in my throat and my body stiffen.

"You're sleeping in my room with me tonight, I no longer trust her. I'm not letting her hurt you again." Riff Raff said to me. No, not said, ordered. It seemed as though I would have little choice in the matter, yet all the same, I had to be defiant (it was in my nature, after all).

"Don't be silly, brother, she's not going to do anything-" I began before he interrupted me.

"I'm not taking any chances. You're staying with me."

Knowing better than to fight him, I merely sighed and nodded, following him into his dark room full of antique furniture including ornate candelabras and other strange things he had come across. He had a pleasant room which always smelled of a strange mixture of dragon's blood incense and his cologne- which held notes of lavender, bergamot, cedar, clove, nutmeg, and patchouli. I breathed in the wonderful fragrance that overcame me as I stripped down to my underwear and bra which was my normal routine. Wearing too much clothing often made me feel restricted and everyone in the household understood this.

As I was disrobing, I felt a set of eyes lingering over the delicate curves of my body. I tried my best to ignore it but that fluttering feeling within my chest had already returned. Why was I so on edge around my brother? This was surely something to look into in the future. I really needed to figure out what was going on.

But as I continued to think my thought process was cut off by a long yawn. I blinked when I realized that it had been I who had yawned. Riff Raff smirked at me and shook his head as if to dismiss a passing thought, already lying in bed. Candles were lit, with a book perched on his lap as he wearily flipped through the pages.

I locked eyes with him and smirked back, shaking my head as I crawled into the large bed beside him. He than set his book back onto its shelf before wrapping his arms around me, holding me so tenderly. I could feel our hearts beating as one. I rested my head on his bare chest, right under the crook of his chin, completely at ease.

"I'll always take care of you, Magenta, never forget that," he whispered into my ear before our immense exhaustion seduced us both to sleep.