So, this little fic has been floating in my head after I watched this hilarious video on tumblr and I just had to get it out. Check out the video and come say hi to me on tumblr!
Best Revenge
2:12am
"I love this woman. I love this woman. I love this woman."
It's true. I'm desperately trying to keep that in mind because I do love her. I love her voice and her snark and the way she curls up to me in bed. What I don't love? Her damn snoring.
God help me, I love her more than life but if she doesn't stop soon, I can't be held responsible for what happens next. Honestly. It's after two in the morning and I've managed exactly zero hours of sleep courtesy of the buzz saw next to me. It amazes me such a loud sound can come from such a tiny package.
2:47
Enough is enough. I tried to play nice: a light caress, a gentle nudge, and even a repositioning of our bodies. I get a sleepy grin and she's back to it.
Music is what brought us together; it's a shared passion that's so intertwined with our story that I wouldn't even know how to separate the two. I associate a lot of sounds with this girl. The way she sings, the way she taps her fingers, or the way she is constantly humming whatever project she's currently working on. She's a constant rhythm of melodies and down beats that is so beyond sexy.
Except when she's sleeping. There is nothing sexy about this beastly roar which is why I can't help myself anymore. The gloves are coming off.
I get out of bed and turn on the bedside light. She doesn't even stir. I set up my phone to record what I'm going to do because I'm about to prove just how badass my girlfriend totally isn't. I giggle to myself as I grab my pillow and walk back to the camera.
"I can't sleep because I've been listening to this for hours..." and I pause to make sure the video catches the racket going on behind me. "So, what I am going to do is hit her with this pillow. Here we go."
I carefully approach Beca's side of the bed as I fluff the pillow for prime attack. I wink at the camera, then throw down one solid SMACK before I have to hop back because her reaction is better than I ever imagined.
"FUCK! CHLO, GET DOWN! I'VE BEEN SHOT" She's yelling as she launches herself a solid two feet in the air before landing on the floor next to the bed. I'm laughing so hard I already have tears rolling down my face.
My laughter seems to pull her back to reality because she's glaring at me as she says, "Dude! What the actual fuck?!" It only makes things worse. The exhaustion has given way to manic laughter and I collapse on the bed trying to catch my breath.
"Oh my God. You've been shot! Oh God." Every time I think I have myself under control, I replay her vaulting into the air and I lose it all over again.
"Seriously, what the hell just happened?" I finally manage to calm myself down enough to answer my rather peeved looking girlfriend.
"You wouldn't stop snoring! It was unreal!" The blank stare almost makes me lose it again.
"So, hitting me with a pillow and scaring the shit out of me seemed like the most mature way to handle it?"
I can't help but snort because this girl will go out of her way to avoid the mature path in most situations. "No, but it was certainly the most fun."
She finally cracks a grin at my answer. "You have seriously spent too much time with me."
Then, we're laughing together. She leans in to kiss me, lightly pushing me on my back, and murmurs about how she's sorry and she's more than happy to help me get to sleep. It's not until she straddles me that I remember the camera and she almost ends up on the floor again as I jump up to stop filming.
Sexy time Beca is for my eyes only.
"You FILMED this?!"
I quickly lock my phone and toss it back on the dresser as she moves toward me. I know distraction is my best defense here, so I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her close.
"Four hours, Becs. I've been listening to you for four hours. I have to get my kicks somewhere."
"Baby, if you want to get your kicks rough housing…there are way better ways. Trust me."
The look she gives me is downright filthy as she roughly shoves me back on the bed.
I sleep pretty well after that.
When we stroll into rehearsals the next day, I'm barely containing my grin at what I know is coming. We don't even make it half way into the theater before the mocking begins. They're all yelling over each other in their eagerness to tease the resident "badass".
"Yo, B. Mitch! How's that gun shot wound doing?"
"GET DOWN! I'VE BEEN SHOT!"
"What happened to Beca Effin Mitchell the badass, eh?"
Her head whips to me so fast, I worry for a second that she'll get whiplash. "You're dead, Beale."
"Nope. Sorry, babe. You're the only one that got shot."