Justin was the anthesis of what Christina usually likes. He's too tall and not muscled enough, he has a bit of an Oedipus
complex, and he's too laid-back. It annoyed her, but she's was still attracted to him.
They would always argue. And fight. And disagree. She likes music fast when he wants it slow. He wants to party when she
wants to sleep. Justin frustrated her when he wanted to be romantic and gushy. She would rather just laugh with him and be
silly, not have him write sappy poems to her or sing sappy songs. But he was just like that--wearing his heart on his
sleeve, wanting her approval. He wished she'd stop wearing such revealing clothing, but she refused to change, arguing
that "you didn't have a problem with the way the other girls you slept with dressed."
Justin didn’t understand why they clashed so much sometimes. He's a water sign, she's a fire sign--allegedly, Sagittarians
and Aquarians get along well. "Britney and I got along," he said.
Christina would roll her eyes at him. "We all know how that turned out," she replies in her usual sarcastic tone.
For some reason, though, they make sense. They both laugh when they're accused of having egos when they know that it's
just misinterpreted confidence. They both laugh at silly movies and can talk about random TV commercials on the phone for
hours. They both adore their younger brothers and wish they had more time to spend with them.
The tour wasn’t just a ploy for them to spend time together, it was also a clever strategy to show the world what they
could do, both individually and together. Whenever Justin talked about the show, his eyes would light up with anticipation
the way a child's does when describing his Christmas presents. Whenever Christina talked about the choreography and the
songs, she’d smile and move her hands excitedly, her now dark-colored hair bobbing as she explained.
The reporters would always ask Christina the question. "Are you and Justin dating?" She’d always smile, laugh, and say
that no, she and Justin weren’t dating, that he wasn’t her type. She even ended up having a snide remark about how she
preferred Latin men printed, much to Justin's dismay.
Later on, as they lay in bed together, Justin asked her about it. "What's the deal with your Puerto Rico fetish?"
"It's not a fetish," Christina corrected, her fingertips gently tracing Justin’s cross tattoo. "I generally find Latin
men more attractive. You asking me this is like me asking you why you want Janet Jackson to be your baby's mama."
"Shut up. She's just fine."
"Wait. Wait. If I like my papis--" she could get away with throwing in random home-girl slang--"and you like black
girls, why are we with each other?"
Justin thought about this for a minute, then looked into her eyes. "'Cause you make me feel so emotional," he sang,
causing Christina to playfully slap him on the shoulder. "Hey, you wanted to know, I gave you a reason. What's yours?"
"Maybe it's because I'm sinking fast into an ocean full of you," she responded, smirking.
end
