all these frozen strawberries
Almost like falling in love. Tori/Beck.
So, I'm a bad Jade/Beck shipper. But, I wanted to go outside my comfort zone, and write some CUTE NOT ANGSTY Beck/Tori. And I did. And I hope you all don't hate me. And I realized I actually do not mind these two as much as I thought. :) yay?
i'm pink and black and blue
for you
;;
The first thing he says is, "You like Queen now?"
It was all downhill from there. Or, uphill, kind of. It was downhill in the sense that it was easy. Like falling. Tori remembers reading something like that in a book from the store across from her college; she used to go there on Wednesdays, since that was when she had a lunch break and no classes. There was something relaxing, about that store, when she was curled up in one of the worn out chairs, reading.
The second thing Beck says is, "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
It's not one of his better jokes. She rolls her eyes; gestures.
;;
She used to think about him. Sometimes she still does, when it's raining outside or she's bored in class. Random things, of course. Stupid. When it comes to the past, no one thinks clearly. Right? Tori doesn't know. She likes to think she's put it all behind her, now. But.
And then, after the initial wondering, she'd start to wonder more, and she was sure she'd do something stupid, like call him, and the only person she still talked to from Hollywood Arts was Andre, and he was on the other side of the country, and so that didn't even count, really.
So, no, she didn't keep in contact with him.
"Long time," Beck says.
"Yep." Tori tells him. "I mean, I know. Andre talked about you, sometimes. I saw a picture."
She doesn't know why she's saying things. He takes a sip of his coffee.
"I got a picture too." He laughs. His hair looks like five shades of brown in the coffee shop lighting; and soft. She has the weirdest urge to run her fingers through it, doesn't.
"Yeah. Well." Beck says, while Tori is still musing about colors and softness and wondering how brown can have so many different shades. "Nice to see you, Tori."
They shake hands.
His skin is tan and rough, against her own, which is burnt from last week's trip to the beach. Warm, too, she thinks.
"Nice to see you, too," Tori says.
;;
Beck's divorced.
It's the first thing he tells her, right after he calls her up for a random lunch in the middle of a slow Thursday afternoon. It was weird, she thought, that he had her number, and after a little bit she realised he'd probably gotten it from Andre, since they were still friends.
Weirder, was that Tori had already eaten lunch, but the second Beck had called her up, she was hungry again. That was something she couldn't explain, even though she spent the whole cab ride down to the restaurant thinking about it.
"Me and Jade went here once." Beck is peaceful. Tori is quiet. "She was reading e.e cumming's, and she got a Dr. Pepper. I knew, then."
"About what?" Tori asks. Her food's gone cold already. She takes a bite anyway.
"That I was going to marry her." He says, grinning.
"What? Right then?"
"Yeah," He says, shrugging. "Don't you believe in that shit? All that fast-paced, romantic stuff?"
"Sure," Tori says, elbow pressing against the table. Their eyes meet. "Of course I do."
;;
They stand too close on the elevator.
;;
"Why'd you get divorced?" Tori asks, sitting on Beck's couch. It's fall, the leaves are already changing colors. From his apartment, you can see the sky and the parks and the greens fading yellows and oranges and reds.
(Autumn, her dad would say, it's change.)
Beck is by the window, looking out.
"Why does it always happen?" He asks.
;;
Beck tastes like chocolate and licorice and sun. It makes Tori think of jeans bleached by the salt water, of lazy Sunday mornings, of twilight, stars scattered across the sky. His hands cup Tori's face, they feel like an anchor to the ground. Strings, tying him to her. Without them there, she thinks she might float away. He feels like the infinite, endless amount of possibilities that extend forward, every direction, from this one point.
"It's just a kiss," Beck says, when they break apart, eyes searching her face.
Tori says, "No, it isn't."
He presses her to the bed, his hands moving form her face to her hair, tangling in the loose curls, his face so close to hers she can feel his breath against her skin. He kisses her, neat and gentle, until it feels like time has started to move backwards.
;;
Tori, Beck mouths against her stomach, before kissing her skin there. His hands are light, one cupping her breast, the other at her knee.
"We have time," He tells her. She feels like she's dissolving.
Hours, Tori thinks, arching her head back, hands grasping- lifetimes, years, centuries.
"Yeah," She sighs, "We do."
;;
Tori is in a blue dress with flowers. The blue isn't the color of her eyes, but it makes them brighter. The flowers are white, with streaks of sunshineyellow and grasslandgreen in them, and the centers are violet and lilac hues; the shadows traced in gray. She sprays perfume, it smells like vanilla.
Beck's hair is still damp from the shower, bangs lopsided from her attempt to trim them.
"Hi," She says, ready.
;;
Beck's mouth is against hers; like their hearts, pressed together.
;;
fin.