A/N: I wanted to write a short dark and angsty fic. But apparently, when I try to do something, I end doing the complete opposite. So even though the sentences are shorter and vaguer and it is a little darker than I usually write, this still ended up being uber long. But I've been adding bits and pieces in between writing other stuff, so it's just a little side project. I hope you guys enjoy. Fyi, it gets pretty smutty. …

Pairings: Centered on Jade/Cat, but there's Jade/Beck in here too.

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I Know Better

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I've always liked breaking beautiful things.

Like when I was seven and took a few of my mom's crystal vases upstairs and threw them out the window. They broke on my back porch like exploding stars.

Like when I was fifteen and drove my dad's car into a light pole, and the crashing metal and glass, it was like exploding stars.

Like now, when I'm sitting in Cat's room, and I want to break just about everything in here. Everything bright and shiny and beautiful.

I think about it, fantasize over and over in my head about beautiful noises of snapping and cracking and breaking glass.

But Cat keeps talking and talking and talking, kneeling on her bed and bouncing like a bunny on meth.

Bright, and shiny, and beautiful.

I sigh, and move through unneeded menus and apps on my phone, trying to find something distracting. Just because I want to break things, doesn't mean I can. I'm still paying for those vases that looked better glittering our backyard.

"Jade, Jade, Jade…"

Over and over and over, she's saying it, like ignoring her the first five times didn't give her a hint.

"What?" I snap, looking up from my phone, and at her from her computer chair.

"I read online last night, about reading palms. Can I read yours?"

"No." I say without hesitation.

Then she's off the bed, and suddenly pulling on my arm.

"Please, Jade? Pleasepleaseplease. Don't you want to know your future?"

"I already know my future and it has nothing to do with my palm." I glare at her while I pocket my phone.

She keeps pulling and I relent, groaning as she pulls me to the bed.

Once we're sitting opposite of each other, she starts tracing circles in the palm of my right hand. And tracing and tracing, and she's focused on her work, staring at my upturned hand with bright eyes. Shining at me. And I know better than to be this close to beautiful things. I feel a heat creeping up my neck at the thought.

"If you don't hurry up, you're going to see a black and blue Cat in my future." I try to make my voice harsh, but it just comes out rough.

She up looks at me with a smile, "You won't hurt me." And then a slight giggle.

I feel something inside me burn at that,

She's so sure, isn't she? Sure and innocent, and bright and beautiful,

I flip my hand over and grab her by the wrist.

Fuck. I know better. But I've always done this. Always, and I knew better than to think she's an exception.

She squeaks a little, and pulls a little, and I tighten my grasp a little.

"How do you know?" I feel my eyebrow go up.

"Because I can see your future." And then she's smiling again, not giving any resistance, utterly trusting, as I gently pull more on her wrist. She just lets me, and lets me, letting me lead her closer to me.

I think about it sometimes, a girl like this, with all her tight tops and short dresses, wouldn't take much. With naïve dreams about unicorns and rainbows, it wouldn't take much to break her. To make her buckle, bend and break.

I think about it when she's around me. Sometimes when she's not. Over and over in my head about beautiful noises of whimpers and moans and begging, until she's nothing but debris from an exploding star.

Then I kiss her.

Just as soon as I do, I know immediately that this is a bad idea. I know because she's soft and willing and kissing me right back. She wants this, and it's bad because now I know I won't be able to stop.

Not while I open her mouth with mine, and taste sugar on her tongue, making me lightheaded. And my heart's pounding when I push into her, pushing her back, still holding on to her wrist with an iron grip.

When I feel her fingers wrapping themselves in my hair, I grab her other hand just as her back lands on the overstuffed comforter on her bed. I pull her arms away and pin them both above her head. My legs settle between hers, and I can feel the heat of her thighs through my denim as I reluctantly pull away from her lips. I let her breath, while my eyes focus on her neck and all the dark colors I could scorch it with.

I push her wrists into the mattress with a little force, and hear a whimper come out of swollen lips.

I like this. A lot. Way too much.

As if on cue, I feel the phone in my pocket start to buzz. Apparently she feels it too, smiling and giggling just like she does every day. Ridiculously unaffected.

"Someone's calling you." She enunciates the words with a gentle push of her hips into mine. Fuck.

I don't want to stop.

But my phone keeps going, because he's calling me.

And I'm pretty much fucked.

Fuck.

Cat's eyes widen a little, because apparently I said that last part out loud.

I let go of her and sit up,

"I have to go."

"Kay, Kay." She says with cheer and nonchalance, swinging her legs away from me and sitting up too. I'm a little confused, because she's acting like we weren't just making out five seconds ago, and I know she's random and sometimes doesn't understand things. But she wasn't kissing me like she didn't understand what was going on. Still, just to be sure;

"Don't tell anybody…" I stand up and grab my coat off of her dresser, then motion between us two. "About this."

She bounces back onto her knees and watches me with a smile.

"Why not?"

My eyes shift a little and I feel a pressure start to build in my chest.

"You know why."

Something shifts in her features. Her smile falters a bit, but there isn't anything resembling hurt or guilt in her eyes. Just shifting brown that looks almost…dark. Almost devious.

But then the shift is gone, and whatever slipped is back in place.

"Tell me anyway."

It's almost enough to get mad at her for. Almost enough to call her out, and to think that this was just some kind of game that she thinks she's winning.

But it's not. Because it's Cat, and almost isn't enough, so I just stare a moment too long before I leave her room, resisting the urge to run.