Title: wildly coherent in a watery deep
Summary: Like she's nothing and the water is all.
Author's Note: Title and summary come from the song "Dory" by Grizzly Bear. As of 9/21/15, this was edited — because who knows.
His eyes that have faced the lost treasures of the world; they lose themselves to the light.
(the truth comes crushing down, so painful and good that she sucks it up – takes in what she needs to know.)
"It's better this way."
His smile doesn't reach his eyes.
(she has forgotten his happiness. it has come and gone. maybe it left back when the heavens closed their doors, but she has forgotten, and that is all she remembers.
(she sees black and blue eyelids — the makeup jade used to cover up her pretty skin. she didn't feel pretty – did she tori? did she, did she, did she —)
"Don't ask about her."
His voice is rough and gruff, his unshaven chin scratching her in all the right (wrong) places. It feels so fucking good (ow ow ow ow ow) and she can't get enough. (enough is enough – god, save the empty.)
She has black and blue marks on her thighs, her butt, her pretty, flat stomach.
They never are as dark as Jade's makeup.
(more, more, more! tori screams. begs.)
("i always knew you were nothing more than a whore," beck says, breath labored and oh —)
Ashes thrown in the sea, harsh kisses placed on the back of her neck, her collarbone. (yes —)
Her eyes roll back. He forgets the color of her eyes for a moment before they come back into view, warm and loving.
("i love you," he maybe says -)
Jade comes to collect Beck (slave), but Beck doesn't go. He stands still next to Tori, his fingers circling the spot in her neck where he can feel her heart beat.
(it beats for you, she thinks, i can't remember when it didn't beat for you.)
Jade cries. Tori has never seen such a beautiful sight.
The shower water beats down on her greasy hair. She must've done this a thousand and two times, she thinks. She has to just let the memories sink in.
"My name is Tori Vega," she mumbles into the ceramic tiles, "I am seventeen years old and my mother's name is Rebecca. My father's name is Rick. My sister's name is Trina Vega and she attends a college in Vermont. I have two dogs, an old Welsh Corgi named Sparky and a baby beagle named Toada. I like to swim and dance and sing. I don't know much about who I really am though."
She takes the shampoo and spreads it delicately across her palms, slowly puts it to her hair. It's as if this were all new.
But to her, it is new. It is new and familiar and ceramic tiles really calm her down — and she really needs to calm down, okay.
(his eyes haunt her dreams. they're so big and pretty and so cold and she misses the warmth – the beautiful warmth that cradled her and kept her happy.)
Nowadays, it's a tough job to calm Tori down. Her breathing increases in a flash, her eyes widen, and her heart pumps too fast for her breath to catch up.
If she went to a therapist or a doctor, they tell her these are panic attacks. They would tell her to breathe in instead of holding in all the air as if it would patch her up. They'd say you need medical attention, Tori. You need help.
Instead of doing this however, Tori looks up the symptoms up on Google and has another panic attack when she figures out that these are, in fact, panic attacks.
(her skin is made of goosebumps, hair brittle straw. she can see every sin seeping out of her pores.)
(save me, she thinks.)
Her Prince Charming is weeping – an ocean falls from his eyes.
(she wants to be a fish, swimming through his sadness, living – breathing from his mistakes.)
Beck's lips touch her own. She feels like a flower that's been given rain for the first time.
"You are so beautiful," he whispers.
His eyes are warm – so warm and loving that her petals open in full blossom.
Her eyes are smiling.
Tori loves the ocean more than anything in the world.
(more than beck – more than herself – more than the sky's rumbling thunder -)
She wades in with all of her clothes on. Her denim shorts stick to her. They've gotten tighter in the water and weigh her down like denim anchors. Her white shirt shows off her bright blue bra.
She sinks under the calm waves, letting herself fall to the bottom. She lets her body release all it's tension – all it's pain and sin into the forgiving salt water.
(it has seen worse than me, she tells herself.)
She smiles with her teeth bared. She wants to be strong. She wants to surrender.
But the calm of the sea does not want her either, so she rises.
She listens to Beatles music when she's in love.
When she's heartbroken, however, she doesn't know what to do. Words don't feel the same way, don't mean the same thing, don't sound right.
When she's heartbroken, she listens to radio static.
It makes her cry; tears coursing down her cheeks at night into her pillow. She can barely breathe. It is the only thing that makes her feel safe: the varying dynamic of sound waves drowning the sound of her heart shattering in her ears, over and over.
"No one has ever called me beautiful, before you," she says into the sheets.
Her grin is infectious and he hasn't even seen it yet. His lips are tugged up to the sky, his teeth promising her a hundred and two beautiful pinky promises.
She doesn't think he will ever break any one of them.
She cannot hear. Everything that is flowing from his mouth is muddled. She can only hear the vibrations; see the turn of his mouth.
Her eyes are barely open. Salt is intruding – stinging them. She cannot hear a goddamn thing.
That doesn't mean that she can't guess.
("i don't think i love you," beck says from a thousand and two miles away.)
Tori Vega got an A+ in Lip Reading.
(he is on land, safe and sound with cruelty intact, but she is going down into the ocean – faster and faster as each sin tugs her to where she belongs. down to the bottom.)
"I can't breathe," Tori gasps.
This is the first time Tori Vega has a panic attack.
"Uh, it's cool," he says. His voice is so soft and it makes her forget that she has just poured hot coffee all over his shirt.
She looks up, and sees his pretty eyes behind his shaggy bangs and his cute, easy-going smile.
She falls in love with him at in those thirty seconds, and if it wasn't for his mean girlfriend right behind him, she thinks she could easily say that he fell in love with her too. But of course, there was a mean girlfriend and Tori was awkwardly rubbing his chest even though she had realized that, yes, it was a horrible idea to rub the coffee in. It seemed as nothing seemed to be going the way she wanted to.
But in those thirty seconds, when he was just so close and they were just thinking about one another, she could swear that everything would be right. Perfect. She never thought that he would have a girlfriend, or he would break her heart in tiny, tiny, little pieces.
In those thirty seconds, it was just them.
Tori thinks Beck falls out of love with her on a Thursday.
The day is cold and she's wearing his big sweater, the one that has a cigarette hole by her hand that she pushes her thumb through.
Everything's been going so well, but his eyes are so sad and unfamiliar. He's hiding something – the boy who told her he doesn't have any secrets. He's hiding something. (she knows what it is – she knows his secret – oh god, she knows.)
He puts his head in her lap, looking up at her with drooping eyes. He looks so tired.
"I love you," he says.
(she sees the way he looks to the sky – sad and lonely and lost. please tell me what's wrong, she thinks. but she knows what it is, knows he's lying -– tell me, tell me, tell me —)
She kisses her finger tips, uses them to brush his bangs back.
He smiles, but his lips don't reach the sky.
(bubbles rise from the deep, dark blue bottom. catch them!)
"But I like the ocean: deep and dark and cold."
(it's like your heart, somewhere i've never been, she thinks. i don't think i ever will be – there.)
(you never do anything right, you're fucking despicable, no one loves you, you're nothing but a filthy who—)
"Take a deep breath," she says.
(shut up. take it. the mean voice is loud. you're NOTHING. no one loves you. beck can hardly look at you.)
She can't help but agree with the mean voice, nowadays.
("beck, please. rethink this.")
("i tried so hard for you, i really did. i really wanted to be good, beck.")
("i'm sorry, but i can't be with you, tori. i'm -– i'm not in love with you anymore.")
The calm sea does not want Tori Vega, but the angry sea inside her is strong enough to take her away, to the bottom.
"I was always meant to be here," she thinks.
("you were always so weak," the voice in her head says.)
His fingers trace over her body. Her body is shaking as she holds in her laughter.
He smiles into her belly button, "Tor, I will always love you."
"Don't say that," she says, giggling. "You can't take that back."
His face gets frighteningly serious. Then he gives her a gift.
"Forever," he says. "I'll love you forever."