he wakes up feeling warm, gentle kisses on the back of his neck, and decides that staying still is the best option right now - that staying still and willing his headache away is a better option than getting up, than peeling himself away from jade’s warm hands, gentle kisses.
but she takes the decision away, moves away from him instead, and he drifts back into something sleep-like, hears faraway noises that seem like they should be worrisome, that seem like something he should fix. but his head pounds, and he keeps his eyes pressed clothes, shallow breaths in and out of his mouth to try and quell the ache behind his eyelids. it’s fine, though, because she returns, gentle fingers in his, and she whispers two words that take his muddled brain an uncomfortable amount of time to unravel.
and when they do unravel, beck’s eyes fly open, and he sits up ramrod straight, regretting the action immediately as his blackened eye throbs, and his nose aches, and his head pounds. and somehow, all of that gets pushed aside in seconds, and beck forces open watering eyes to look at the woman he loves, and contemplate the fucking mess his life is in, because god damn he should be happy - he should be something like overjoyed - but all he can feel is dread, knotted like a fist in the bottom of his stomach, because he can’t fuck up a kid’s life. not anyone’s kid, and least of all jade’s. so what the fuck. ❝are you serious?❞ probably not the best question to start off with but goddamn if beck isn’t nursing three different kinds of hangovers right now. ❝jade, are you fucking with me?❞ almost as soon as he finishes the question he covers his mouth with his hand, eyes wide. you can’t swear around kids, can you?
fuck, he needs a - no. no shit. not that. any-fucking-thing but that.
she should’ve seen it coming, but when he doesn’t immediately react she thinks that maybe he didn’t hear, maybe she still has time to plan this out.. she’s wrong, though. he grows rigid, and he looks at her, through bruised, swollen features. jade sighed, hearing him ask her if she’s serious; if it’s a joke. goth would sit up a little, looking away from him for a moment and she shakes her head slowly. “i’m not fucking with you.” she doesn’t immediately understand why he covers his mouth like that, but when she gets it, she rolls her eyes.
“i wanted to tell you last night, but-” but you went out instead. but you didn’t get home until late. but you showed up drunk. but we fought. she shrugged. “- i haven’t known for a couple of days. there wasn’t a good time to tell you. i..” she’d fidget like he does, nervous, like he gets. she wants to be happy with him, wanted to tell him when she was giddy, with a smile curling up the corners of her mouth as she tried to be coy. she wanted to laugh and cry tears of joy, have him place a hand on her flat abdomen. instead, she’s curling into herself, thinking of how she’s in a struggling relationship and she’s pregnant... and she can barely force herself to eat sometimes.
“um... what do you want to do?” she would bite her lip, shrugging to herself, adding, “you don’t have to answer that right away.” eyes fall on her forearm, where five little dots have bloomed, purple against pale flesh. well, damn. now, if anyone sees that, they’ll get the wrong idea. she tugs at her shirtsleeves. “i - i wanna keep it.” voice cracks, gets a few notes higher, because she doesn’t know what he wants and jade used to be so good at reading him.
“but not if things keep staying bad.”
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