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The Beautiful Ones	By : TaimaMarie Category: Individual Celebrities > Criss Angel Views: 1682 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrity I am writing about. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Cassandra couldn’t pretend that it didn’t frighten her. It felt like almost overnight, everyone knew who she was. In Vegas, at least. Sometimes it almost made her wish she could move back into the car.

“Just wait until the new season starts.” Criss chuckled one night when she confessed the way she felt to him. She looked up, terrified, from the chicken she was frying.

“New season?”

“Of my television show? Do you pay attention?” he raised an eyebrow. The color drained from her face.

“So anyone will be able to watch and find me? Know where I am?” she crumpled the dishtowel she was holding.

“Well, yes, I guess you can think of it that way. But there’s so much security in place, Cass. No one will be able to get to you, I can promise you that.” He was surprised. For someone who had been sleeping in a car, she sure was concerned about safety.

It was very strange, he thought. Especially when you took into consideration the face that he’d had to explain to her twice why she couldn’t go for a midnight walk. It had nothing to do with fame then, really. Criss wouldn’t have felt comfortable about any female he was involved with going walking in the dark.

“Mmm,” the color didn’t return to her face. In fact, she didn’t look reassured at all when she turned back to the stove. Her movements were stiff and troubled all through dinner and the dishes.

To tell the truth, they had grown very domestic. Cassandra had taken to making him dinner every night. She hadn’t yet returned to his bed, though. Criss tried to tell himself he didn’t care. He tried to be satisfied with seeing her first thing in the morning, blurry eyed and sleep rumpled.

“Cassandra, are you really worried some random person is going to snag you or something?” the illusionist finally asked after watching her push her food around her plate for fifteen minutes without taking a bite.

“No,” it was true. She didn’t think some random person was going to come back at all. It was Michael she was worried about. It was her family she was worried about.

God, how long had it been since she’d thought of them? When she first came, they were in her every thought, seeped into any dreams she might have at night. But as time went by, they seemed to fade away. Whole days would go by and they wouldn’t even cross her mind.

Obviously, she was the worst person in the world.

“Talk to me.” Criss reached across the table and covered her hand with his. She jumped and pulled away.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I guess the idea of it is just new to me, that’s all.” She stood abruptly and began to do the dishes. Her boss sat still at the table for a bit, listening to her.

He hadn’t thought that it was possible to sound angry while doing the dishes, but she sure pulled it off. Criss stood and put his hands gently on her hips, trying to radiate serenity.

“Calm down, Cass. Please sit down with me and talk? There’s obviously something bothering you.”

“You’re bothering me.” She muttered before shaking him off to scrub at the pans.

“And I’m bothered because you won’t talk to me. I need you to communicate with me. I need to know what the matter is, Cass!”

“You don’t need to know anything!” she shouted, turning around to glare at him. “We’ve been over this. You’re only going to know what I tell you, and when you push me I don’t feel like telling you anything at all.”

“Why is it always the same fight with you?” Criss stepped back, feeling himself getting angry with her.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.” She sneered. Criss just stared at her.

“Why don’t you understand that I’m doing this because I care about you?”

“Oh please!” she scoffed. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve heard that in my life? Nobody knows what I need but me, okay? Nobody but me knows what’s best for me. I’m not going to have my life lived for me, all right?” without another word, she snatched her jacket and headed for the door.

“Don’t you walk away from me like this!” Criss yelled as he grabbed her upper arm. She spun around, still in his grasp.

“You can’t make my stay! You don’t own me.”

“No, I don’t, and sometimes I wish I did because I could keep you from being such an idiot, Cassandra Gabrielle.”

“You’re an asshole, Christopher Nicholas.” Their voices rang and echoed throughout the room. Hammie had taken cover under the bed at that point.

“I want you to try and hear me out for once in your life.”

“I want you to try and understand that you don’t know what’s best for me. It’s my life.”

“I know it’s your life! I get that! You have made me very aware. I’m trying to make you aware of the fact hat I’m very invested in your life.” Criss was feeling exasperated. Sometimes he forgot how young she really was, and then things like this came around to remind him.

“Because you don’t want to hire another assistant.”

“Because for some stupid reason, I actually care about you.” He corrected you. “You don’t get it, do you, Cassandra? I don’t tell you things just because I want to control you, or because I get a kick out of making you miserable.”

“Could have fooled me.” She snorted. Criss continued on, ignoring the interruption.

“Cassandra. I would die if you got hurt. Do you get that?” he was still holding her arm and he shook it gently. “Do you understand? It kills me to think of anything bad happening to you. Just like it kills me when I wake up in the morning and see that you’ve been sleeping alone on my couch again, because I know that isn’t where you belong. And nothing hurts me more than when I look across the room at you and I see that pain in your eyes, because you won’t let me try to help you. Goddammit, Cassandra, I love you!”

“Y—you what?” she stammered.

If only he could have taken those words back. Criss dropped her arm and turned and went into his bedroom, slamming the door. He heard her calling to him, calmly the first two times, upset the second two, and crying the last two.

But he still didn’t open the door.

Criss lay down on his bed, throwing his arm across his eyes. What the hell had he done now? She was going to leave. She didn’t love him. She didn’t even love herself; it just wasn’t possible for her to love anyone else. And he had spooked her, he could tell from the way her lips trembled when he said that he loved her. He had scared her to death.

And she ran when she was scared. Cassandra always ran.
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