It happens the same way every time.
I've never known how to love.
Jade and I are on the way to my apartment. She insists on walking me home after school every day. I'm not sure why, but the one time I asked her, she mumbled something about people who couldn't be trusted. I didn't mention it again because it made her uncomfortable. Anyway, I don't mind. It's nice to have company. Especially Jade's.
Every day I try to leave Cat alone, and every day I fail. She widens her eyes, or bats her lashes, or smiles (god, that smile), and I think of all the things that could break her in the minutes it took her to get home.
She keeps me safe.
Including me. But I try not to remember that.
She looks sad, so I smile and grasp at her hand. She glares at me. "Don't," she says.
She never suspects a thing. She believes me when I apologize. Tell her I won't do it again. She always forgives me.
I'd cry if it was anyone except Jade. I know she doesn't mean it. It's how she is.
She finds her way back to me no matter how I treat her.
I try to help her with it, but it doesn't always work.
I try to hate her for it, but it doesn't always work.
I talk, uninterrupted, for the rest of the trip. It's only when we get into the elevator when Jade grabs me by the wrist and shoves her mouth against mine.
It's not easy, but I never kiss Cat when we're out in public. If I did, she'd get the idea in her head that what we have is a real relationship.
Nothing has changed since the first time: how Jade's fragrant lips taste (somewhere between walnuts and fresh rain), how Jade's fingertips feel as they glide up and around my body (viciously, blissfully, perplexingly warm), how my stomach drops when I feel the lift slow to a stop and Jade push me away, not so much as glancing at me until the doors close and we're alone again.
It's not. At least, I don't want it to be. But walking into that elevator each afternoon, I somehow manage to forget that.
And when Jade tugs my arm, and when I see the smoke and ice in her eyes, my heart freezes, melts, aches thumps shivers bursts tumbles whirls stops.
I can convince myself that I won't fuck up and ruin her, the only beautiful thing in my life, again. I really should know better.
And then I say, "I love you."
I can't help but hurt the people who care about me. Dad. Beck.
Her lips part and her eyes get big and her skin is a full moon. And all I can think, as her fists slam into me, is of how beautiful she is.
The difference with Cat is that it hurts me just as much.
"Don't. Lie to me," she whispers. I slump to the floor. Tears blur my vision. I hear the rapid, fading clicks of stilettos.
So when I'm alone I scream and break things and vow to never speak to her again, but then I see her the next day and I can't say no.
Even though she's running away, and I'm hurting everywhere, I don't mind. I know it's just because no one's ever loved her the way I do, and she's scared.
So when we're alone I give in and hold her and kiss her, but then I see her eyes asking me and I can't say yes.
I know she'll believe me some day.
Because I don't want it to be true.
I know there's love in her.
Because I don't know how to love.
This fic was incredibly difficult for me to write, loving these two characters as I do. Still, I find it's always healthy to explore the negative sides of a ship.
If you liked it, let me know what I did well so I can keep doing it. If you didn't, do your part in helping a disastrously out-of-practise writer and let me know what I should do to improve.
Originally inspired by the song "Elevator Love Letter" by Stars (but soon got much darker).
- Kneecap
Disclaimer: Neither Victorious nor any of its characters are my property.