we're all together, just taken apart

summary: you let go of her hand first.
disclaimer: victorious isn't mine.

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she's magic, you think.

her eyes sparkle like stars and her voice dazzles the audience and her hair is as red as blood (red velvet cupcakes, she insists) and her best trick is knowing when to disappear.

beck watches you watching her and you wonder why he doesn't say anything when he knows.

maybe he wants videos.

(or maybe he really doesn't know)

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you're holding her hand in your left and her fingers are slender and her skin is soft –

beck's hand, in your right, is rough and his fingers are lax and he brushes his thumb idly up and down yours.

cat holds onto you like you're her lifeline. beck holds onto you like you're something (but not enough). it's okay, though, beck was never enough, either.

you let go of her hand first and he never notices.

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it's your first slumber party with anyone, ever, and you're fourteen years old and cat insists upon doing each other's nails and hair and makeup. you grimace as she wipes pink eye shadow over your eyelid and if it wasn't her you'd probably punch her in the face.

it is her, though, in all her innocent and naïve glory. she's wearing a tank top and when you open your eyes as she applies blush you can stare straight down her shirt.

you lick your bottom lip and cringe; it tastes like strawberries because of the lip gloss she forced on you earlier.

"there," she murmurs, sitting back on her feet and smiling her million dollar smile. she squeals and hops a little. "you look like a princess!" she says, passing you a mirror.

you hate it. you really do look like a fucking princess and pink really isn't your color. you don't say that, though, you just glare at her and she giggles and says, "my turn! make me beautiful!"

you turn her into an ugly witch. if she's going to turn you into what she is, you're going to turn her into what you are.

when she sees it, she cries, and you think that maybe she's not as stupid as she wants you to believe. that she understands. you hold onto that thought when you grab her jaw and kiss her, and when she moans it makes her seem as ugly as you feel.

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(fuck is he looking at tori again?)

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whenever you're angry, your sex drive is jacked up so high you feel like you might literally die if you don't have someone under you. beck likes that about you.

that's why you two fight so much, because what starts in harsh words and screaming ends up in harsh words and screaming, only it's better the second time because you're naked.

cat doesn't make you as angry, so it always surprises you when you want to jump her bones and fuck her into the mattress. she mewls like a kitten and whispers sweet things into your ear and always, always tells you how beautiful you look when you're like this; vulnerable and tainted and broken all at once.

it should unnerve you. it should make you feel nervous and drive you crazy and make you wish you were anywhere but there, with her, kissing her until your lip gloss mixes and you can't tell which part of you belongs to which person.

(your heart belongs to me, cat murmurs, biting your ear)

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dirty.

there's the word you were looking for.

beck makes you feel that way. you once said the word was used, but that's not it. dirty fits better. it's more appropriate.

"babe," he says, kissing the top of your head, "can you hand me my phone?"

new text message from tori vega, it reads.

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"you should be with me," cat says, running slender fingers through your hair. you've been lying in her lap for the better part of an hour, crying over beck when you don't even think you should be. you guess it's only fair that he's cheating if you're cheating; only it feels different because, with cat, it doesn't feel like cheating. it feels like breathing, and you can't keep going without her.

"i would never make you cry," she continues, lips turned downwards into a deep frown, "and if i did, i'd buy you ice cream."

you laugh and tell her you don't like ice cream. she changes it to chocolate, and you're okay with that.

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"we should break up," you say one day while you're in his RV, holding his hand in your own and lying on his chest. it seems like such a weird thing to say when you're like this; comfortable, together. he hardly bats an eyelash.

"i think we should, too."

all of the sudden, everything is over. two years of crying and screaming and never being good enough is over, and it feels over. you're no longer beck&jade, you're just jade and he's just beck.

you don't let go of his hand.

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cat makes you cry, but it's different.

you tell her you and beck broke up. she tenses up, apologizes a million times, and hopes that you'll forgive her for saying that you should end things with him. you laugh, grab her face, and you kiss her, long and hard and passionate and everything is suddenly falling into place.

happiness seizes your heart and you feel water leaking from your eyes.

"oh," cat says, pulling away and staring at you, "did i do that?"

you can only halfway nod and laugh again, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. cat reaches for you, locks your fingers with her, and uses the pad of her thumb on her free hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks.

"i owe you a chocolate bar," she says, and that just makes you cry more.

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you're holding hands.

beck's is in one and cat's is in the other.

you let go of beck's first.

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fin.

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a/n: i'm actually kind of proud of this and i don't know why. thank you for reading. please review with more than "so weird" or "it liked it".