Okay guys, I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in a while. I've been really busy and honestly just had no motivation for either of my stories. I've rewritten chapter two of Knight & Her Princesses like three times and I still don't like it. So here's a short fic to help me get back in the swing of writing. It's kind of an odd style, but I hope you'll like it. Enjoy!
It never occurred to you just how many surprises your stormy little DJ could pack into her tiny frame. Not the product of things you didn't know, because you made it a fact to know almost everything about her, just things you've assumed over the past few years of knowing her. Products of your own mind. Several things pop into your mind at the moment, yet there are so many more you know you're forgetting. Like the time she strong-armed the Trebles and the Bellas to perform the entire discography of Hairspray (your favorite musical- shut up) for you on your birthday. And that was before you got together. On your first Valentine's Day, she made them split into groups and follow you around, singing love songs to you all day. Any time they tried to sneak away, there she was, holding your hand and glaring at them. Yet that was only the beginning.
Imagine your surprise when you met her five brothers and four sisters, only three of those from her mother's second marriage. It wasn't as if you'd discussed it before, though. Just the opposite, as Beca hated to talk about herself in an extremely disproportionate manner to her cocky, bad ass exterior. You'd just assumed, through her demeanor, that she had no siblings to speak of. In fact, you were quite astounded to learn that she was part of a set of triplets, because honestly, when does that actually ever happen? She'd assumed the two tall, happy-go-lucky, jock-type boys were twins, when (much to Beca's displeasure) they announced their shared birthdate while grabbing her up into a bone-crushing hug between them.
Assumptions. You've learned not to do that with her anymore, especially after she revealed herself as being somewhat of a musical prodigy. Not that you'd ever say that to her face, seeing as how she's expressly forbidden you to say anything of the sort. Her multiple musical awards and even an appearance in a classical music magazine would beg to differ, though. So what, she could play Mozart and Beethoven before she could write, she would roll her eyes. Big deal, she'd exclaim, hands thrown out, that she taught herself how to play nearly ten instruments before she hit high school. Very big deal to you and any other sane person, you love to argue back. It's not her fault she has a photographic memory; the constant comeback.
Your sweet, romantic (though she'd probably strangle you if you ever said it to her face) beat master (that, she would like) is also very smart when she wants to be, and you've learned not to underestimate that. She may have a terrible work ethic when it comes to school, but she could easily be valedictorian if she applied herself to anything. You were thoroughly surprised (when will you learn?) when she made a 100 in her mathematics class, even though she never actually went, forgoing it to spend an hour after lunch with you. When you asked, the wry smirk she gave you, so sneaky and elvish as it was, brought forth a number of horrifying scenarios to your mind. She explained, with a kiss to your nose, that she'd walked up to the professor on the first day, given a twenty minute speech of the mathematical intricacies of music, declared that that was the only math she'd ever need, and gotten the teacher to agree.
As you've learned, assumptions are usually wrong when it comes to Beca Mitchell. You'd assumed she wanted Jesse, and look how that turned out. Four months of completely avoiding anything Beca only to find out that she'd cut it off the same night they'd shared their first kiss. She likened the experienced to kissing her brother, and with a cheesy reference to Back to the Future, Jesse agreed. Of course, that brings you to your current situation, the whole reason that you've been having this internal retrospection about assuming things about your little lovergirl. She'd probably tease you for having this internal monologue with yourself while there are so many other things you could be paying attention to, and usually you'd agree, but there was just something about her surprising nature that drew your attention to it. Especially since your feet weren't touching the ground at the moment.
"Penny for your thoughts?" There was that devilish smirk again. Sometimes you think it just might do you in.
"Just a little... surprised, is all. I really shouldn't be surprised by anything about you anymore, but here we are." You tighten your arms around her neck. You trust her completely, of course, you're just not sure you trust her arm strength. You are bigger than her, after all. It would be sort of a mood killer if she dropped your naked ass on the hardwood floors of your apartment.
"Surprised by what?" It was cute that she looked genuinely confused, as if she hadn't just picked you up with little to no effort. You made your sentiments known and she giggled. Another thing that had shocked you the first time.
"What, just because I'm small means I'm not strong? I grew up with five brothers; it was fight or die. I'll also have you know that I was the karate champ in my town for three years!" She throws you onto the bed and crawls over you with a huge grin.
"Hey! You can't do that! What if you had dropped me? Or I fell off the bed?" You cross your arms and pout in that way you know she can't resist. She hasn't told you that, but you can see the way she bites her lip and squirms every time you do it.
"I will never let you fall." She places a tender kiss to your lips, and it's at times like these that you wonder how you aren't squealing over the cuteness. Not that you'd ever do that. It might hurt her feelings, being called anything other than something synonymous with badass or tough.
"Too late." You smile, because you know it's true. You fell hard for this girl, your surprising and squishy-on-the-inside hard ass, and you wouldn't want it any other way.