I suck monkey butt. I know. But here it is. The second to last chapter, so. Yeah, the story really might be another one that is a two-shot. But I mean whatever right? These two are idiots who absolutely cannot figure themselves out...Or maybe one of them finally has.

Night Changes: Daylight

She's far too passive while time (in all its essence) binds her and fixes her with a ruination meant to advise her. Methodically, every intention to inculcate a rationality internally for her to part with. Her future in mind. The tentative encounters: murmured assurances, tender dispositions, mental consternation's, every rectified situation practically conclusive with a shared breath, delicate touches, their external laughter contained for them only—it's fate.

(Only if she would validate her emotions and concede to the inane semantics.)

Time could not be kinder to her, but often she defied that conviction it warmed her with. She believed that the daft one had been 'time', but between them it seems that the more protracted her moments with her love she was converted into the dolt. Blithely content with her contrived contrivance that had fitted her every controvert to any situation propelled into her hands. While Tori earnestly meandered around without so much of a hint as to where they would be lead. She had lead them unto a ruination that she had no comprehension of, and no capability for a solution.

The potential they had. Blindly directed from them, thieved away by her vanished virtues. She had done this deliberately. Vilely leveled every certain smile, dwindled the radiance in the eyes of the one she dared to fall for—corrupted their emotions with a depraved mediocrity.

And not one soul could perceive how honestly wicked she actually is. Just a morbid fact of how mindlessly people could be, to even their own emotions. Andre, Beck, Trina, even Robbie failed to consider the truth as to why she had not heeded their advice, at least not entirely. She shirked every feeble conversation that alerted her, momentarily, of the cruelty she acts with. She defiled their trust, and they still airily conversed. Selfishly she wanted everyone to believe that she merely wants to distance herself, become a detached individual. When in all actuality she wants to extract every little ounce of affection between them and have it, to hold, and coddle with her cold hands.

("All things truly wicked start from innocence.")

And this is exactly what it was. A revolutionized idea of her own that quickly evolved from an honest fondness, developed into some sick cancer that brought upon them only sorrow.

"You should tell her." Beck advises timidly.

He has only ever been hesitant with her on two occasions, one being there very first split, and the other was the moment he had found out about how she really felt for Tori; his friend who hardly accepted his voiced 'hello' with sincerity. He was perplexed in his affection for her, that much she could perceive from the deliberate twinkle in his eyes when he stared at her with so much incertitude. She would advocate for him to have someone else, to try, to sort his tumultuous emotions for her with another. Only it was very much evident that he had no such intentions; she could only conceptualize the tenderness in his chest as he could merely watch them fall into the unnatural pattern of their relationship.

(She often wonders if they could have prevented this detrimental moment in time, if they ever had continued to pursue their relations; f they had overcome their hardships, and were still together.)

Spinning around to meet his saddened smile, Jade squints in order to memorize every detail that could have halted their ultimate downfall. Or rather theorizes where they had gone amiss. In place their quarrels she can only visualize feminine features: instead of their various moments of stilted silence, she only hears corny puns, feels lanky arms rather than lean ones—they had—she had ruined them with her want to decode the pull she feels. A less than convenient lure that inevitably lead her to drift from the relationship she had believed to had wanted, and towards another that is only ever questioned by so many.

"And you should talk to her."

Beck halts, side-eyes her, then continues his typing on his laptop. He only last twenty seconds before he's habitually flipping his hair back into place.

"It's not, when we broke up I thought I had feelings for her." He mumbles bitterly.

Jade tilts her head, features tight, mind perplexed minimally. She delves into the other possibilities, better situations, that all three of them could have been in if the two had decided to share those type of romantic emotions. Surly Beck and Tori is more compatible than Jade could ever be with either of them. She wonders. Maybe if she had not obscured the two, maybe they would all be happier.

"It should be you. You wouldn't have had to fight for her. I would have left it all alone." Jade implores.

"It's wasn't that simple. I saw it—how she looks at you. She wants to be with you. Even with all of the arguments, snide remarks, and crappy pranks you pulled on her. The way she sees you,"

Jade lets his words settle, allows them to fall into a flimsy place in her chest.

"She honestly adores every part of you. The good and the bad. And I think she's always felt that way about you. It's just that watching her watch you made me realize that she loves you the exact same way I love you. She just values that love more. Maybe that's why I feel a little bit of resentment towards her,"

Beck winces.

"And I told her that I didn't have any romantic feelings for you. I lied so that she wouldn't feel bad about pursuing you. Add on the fact that I stupidly tried to keep her away from you when you were hurt. It'll take some time, but we'll get past this. You two on the other hand..."

"Are screwing things up beyond repair." Jade finishes for him.

Beck nods, soft smile placed upon his lips. He eyes the prompted scowl of worry about her mien and merely stands. Opens his arms wide, warmly offers solace to the burdens that ran with their conversation. And somehow, he is ruined when she wholly accepts.

Ruefully in her heated embrace he locates the moment in which he knew he had lost her. An unearthly pain reveals a mundane, such a trivial time where it all vanished from his hands.

…

"I was bored and h—wait I don't have to explain myself to you!"

"Well next time you want to prank Robbie try not to involve me and I won't have to question you."

Beck blinks at the pair, eyes narrowly watching them. Their reactions are immaculate once he perceives the initial gist of their innocuous quarrel. One scowls, the other merely announces irritation with an overachieving huff. Yet one, out of the two, one remains playfully innocent.

Jade is amused, that tilted smirk of mirth toying on her lips is far too telling. And he knows that look, of pure joy, and a hint of adoration. He has been on the receiving end of that concealed stare.

(She is very much interested, if even a little, in her voiced frenemy.)

"You're unbelievable!" Tori huffs, and stalks away angrily.

And Jade, stares, and stares even after a minute has passed. That further his preconception about the incident, but once the enticement is split, her soft eyes viciously flick onto him. Warm smirk slithering from her lips. He holds the placid eyes contact only momentarily. Heart substantially heavy.

...

"Do you ever answer your phone? I called you four…"

They've been stunted into circumstance limbs stifled, and minds confounded sadistically. Their eyes locate the intruder that has stumbled upon their rather intimate position; both hearts heavy as their initial conception is cruelly evident. The tender voice had been honest, and the palpable hurt exudes from the brunette numbly withering before them.

Out of the three, Beck (ironically,) is the very first to react; hands tentatively falling away from a thin waist, and Jade, in pursuit sidles a few steps from him. Methodically she observers the stale examination that is thrust onto them—chest devastated covertly once the teen visibly quivers dully.

"It's no—"

Jade is sliced into thinly, violently.

"I called, a couple times actually. But I can see now that obviously you were…are busy." Tori chuckles innocently.

The brutal timbre is a bit cynical, if not, then positively venomous. And she craves to abate the fierce hurt leering at them, yet the chance is snatched from her. Virtually her body recoils at the stealthy countenance that, far to easily, slips into an apathetic depletion. The saddened demeanor had transitioned into an aura of exhaustion; the simplicity of the conversion, eerily as is, becomes rather intrusive. It concerns her profoundly.

As it occurs, the silence overwhelms them. It's lengthy, and oddly curt; terminated upon an inept (incensed,) swivel of her heels, from the rather peculiar teen. It all transpires so abruptly: an emotional conversation, a tender embrace, and an intruder that raves a storm exponentially mystified of the scene that they had set their eyes upon, and suddenly—it vanishes. Into an air of disturbance. Only her mind adeptly catches wind of the misconceived situation, and she is nimble enough to scramble after the brunette, frantically, yet sufficiently so.

Her hand catches the wrist midway through Tori attempting to open her front door. It leaves her winded, somehow, once the teen does indeed halt at her desperation. And when she does notice the harsh exhale that Tori exudes, well, she becomes more than irked. For more reasons than none.

"Wait one fucking minute Vega," Jade practically snarls. "How about you listen instead of storm—"

Tori cuts in hastily.

"Let me go, Jade."

And maybe currently she is very sensitive and should certainly think of the demand as a minor request, rather than evaluate the entirety of their predicament, but she is overly sensitive—and overthinks the command, and superficially she erupts.

"Hell no!"

Her vocals vibrate, even after silence ensues. She can tell that the level of her voice, the sudden vexation, startles the brunette. Yet that twinkle of unsettlement morphs into a fine fury of its own. Upon that crinkle of her forehead, and tint of pink to her cheeks, Jade can feel them breaking.

Tori advances viciously, steps slicing into her space, and Jade stands stoic still. Yet the brunette neither falters, or switches tactics. Instead the darker fared teen halts into her breathing space, leering at her, even if she does indeed possess a very few inches over her.

(Beck leaves from the back door easily; weary and even more reluctant, at their heedless behavior.)

"I don't think neither he, nor you know what either of you want." A usually smooth voice seethe's.

A comprehension dawn's upon, her swiftly. Her shoulders slacken instantly, anger dissipating methodically. They've always been, this, or rather they've occurred so wildly, only to recover defiantly and so effortless. They never resolve, merely add to the (hurt,) concealed issues.

She absolutely, comprehensively, knows what she wants. Yet desire and the need should be both ways. It defiantly is, in her perception of this, but the other half of the equation does not see it that way. A hushed breath leaves her lips woefully.

It very well may be the ordeal of graduation preparations and the load of words, calculations, shoved into her brain and the various projects that had been ordered by the teacher's. If that may be the cause for the lack of excitement, or the persistent fear that has yet to be decimated by all logic: the revelation has had an evasive tactic that not even she can decode.

Shakily her left hand comes to cup the brunettes heated cheek; there's a flicker of curiosity, and then astonishment that lurks about a pair of wide, unblinking, brown orbs.

"I do," Jade mutters intently. "You've been worried—of course I want you. It's just that this really shouldn't have happened in the first place. We've only been hurt this entire year. It shouldn't happen."

There is a destructive and queasy storm ravishing her stomach, at the suddenly soft eyes observing her.

"We've been," Tori breathes evenly, harshly. "That can't be the excuse anymore Jade. I want you too, and I would never ask any more than what you have to offer. I lo—"

Her ears dare not hear the perceptible word spew from the teens lips, the outcome is far too abstract, she is too weary to discover the existence of the ideal conception she has idly eluded.

Her mouth moves reticently; a lure that securely bolts the thick word within the endless abyss between them. An endeavor that seems crude in the vast amount of options she very well could have taken as an alternative. She hushes the novel whisper of her name with another tender connection, and upon this time, the other teen meekly falls into her. Arms fasten into her hair, while her hands dimly, circumspectly lurk low.

Oddly, recklessly so, they end up stumbling up the stairs silently; Tori leads them with a steely grip on her wrist, and she can only, helplessly, follow the object of her deepest affections.

And then the pace is set with an even stare, vivid in its portrayal of tenderness. Her lips meet a patient mouth, ardent, and easily accepting what she has to offer. In this there is an outlandish intensity of sentiment. Nothing ever seemed so mundane, yet an onpour of affection shrouds her mind until there is not an ounce of sorrow that held her from keenly sensationalizing the tender touch of the tanned hands idly stirring the heat within her stomach.

They lose their shirts, and she knows that this is it. She's sealed her fate, and that she without reservation, loves her. The ponder over the notion becomes deathly and seems so inane.

(They evade the fact that they both know that the innocent brunette is just that—innocent. The near experiences with tinkering around the concepts of virginity loss must have been close, because Tori practically withers underneath the soft hands weaving up her tanned skin and sailing across her exposed body reverently.)

…

"I love you."

She whispers breathlessly; air thieved from her viciously, brutally taken from her. And she has none to blame but her own habitual process of repelling those who dare care for her.

Her shaky hands flick at the lighter desperately, throat suddenly fixed. She tries once more, another attempt, another, and another until a vile sob leaves her lips with a tremendous quiver. The brick wall catches her numb fall—her arms encircle her legs pushed into her chest, and she cries. Stupidly and tumultuously sobs, because she fathoms that the entailed occurrence that wills itself not to leave her mind, is so vile on her part.

Her body is exhilarated, vibrations of pure happiness consuming her; only the bleak depths of her mind is far from pleased, revolted almost at the deed she has done. Her heart elated, but her emotions overturned and deluded.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why can't I ever stop being so fucking stupid around you."

Jade convulses at the evocative memories storming her head. It had been love, and adoration, and love, and tenderness, and innocent curiosity, and love, and every second of it was bliss.

…

"I love you too Jade. After one more you'll be fine. One more heartbreak. I promise." Tori mutters softly.

She falls death to the bawling teen opposite her. The luminous stove light caressing her softened features delicately; her heart, body, and mind remain serene about the concerning scene outside. They were nightfall, and daylight, in a continual venture to find another and somehow—even the truth of the matter does not burden her.

Her shoulders are weak, own breath shaky, but it all mollifies her merciful and kind. In that moment her elation for the answer enkindles her.

Covertly she decides.

She'll have to devastate them both, if they ever wanted to be.

I just love theatrics—I mean come on, they just did the do, and still they act like it was the worst and best thing in the world...I mean maybe circumstances be held, it kinda was, but whatever. And next chapter will be the last. Kind of thinking of taking this into another little baby story. Just to tie up all of the loose ends and not make it seemed rushed.