a/n: ella-beth, i lovelovelove you. you are amazing, and i really hope you have a fantastic birthday! 3 happy birthday! :3 (hope you win the bet ;D)
disclaimer: i don't own victorious.
jaded – adj. 1. worn out; wearied. 2. dulled by surfeit; sated. 3. cynically or pretentiously callous.
They become Beck&Jade one spring afternoon when he accidentally stumbles into the closet she is currently occupying and crashes into her, and something clatters to the floor.
"Watch where you're go –" she starts to snarl before turning around, sleeves hastily pulled to the tips of her fingers, concealing the scarlet mess of angry slashes on her pale arms. "Beck Oliver. Well, well, well. What're we doing here?"
And she raises her arms to give him a shove, mouth twisted in a scowl, pretty face marred by the grimace plastered unforgivably in place of rose smiles. He sees her trusty scissors bloodied on the ground, inky beads of crimson meshing together into myriad memories.
(He sees the burn marks on his own back flashing in his mind.)
He swallows the bile rising in his throat. "Jade."
"Beck." She challenges, narrowing her eyes and fiddling with a heavy ring on her finger. This paper puzzle of a destroyed girl confuses him, the way she scatters her own pieces and hides them on purpose, and keeps herself aloof from potential friends.
"Are you okay," he says carefully, sawing through her paper-thin mask as smoky eyes reveal pain and mask hurt.
Because the girl is drowning in her lies, choking under the pressure and when she cuts she doesn't think of the repercussions, only the satisfied feeling of release.
"Fine," she snaps, head bent. His fingers wrap around a blue strand of silken hair and she collapses into his arms and leaves mascara stains on his shirt.
(He kisses her like glass, and then they are Beck&Jade.)
a/n: thanks, blue, for the prompts!
ella-beth, sorry this was so short/horrible. i'll attempt to make it up to you eventually, haha.
please, do not favourite without reviewing.