This is just a little bit. Inspired by a song, So Right by Music For Sale. Enjoy.

This is just another evening in the Bella's House. Fat Amy is on a date with Bumper, and we know, clearly, she'll be doing a walk of shame in the morning. Maybe afternoon. Frankly, maybe even later.

Stacie is also on a date, because Aubrey is in town. Yep. Right. My best friend has tamed the hunter since the retreat.

Emily is having a study group for the exam, and she will not be home until tomorrow. Or maybe until the exam is over.

CR is out to the club. And let's just hope she doesn't meet any old friend in a round table. And Lily is... I think only God knows where she is. Uh... on second thought, I think maybe God doesn't even know. So, uhm... let's just leave it there.

"You sure you don't want to come with us?!" Jessica ask me, yelling from the front door.

"No Jess!" I yell back from the couch in the living room, changing the channel on the TV to find at least a decent show. "Thank you though! And have fun both of you!"

"We will!" Jessica and Ashley answer in unison. They are going to some concerts downtown. And I wanted to go with them, because I didn't usually like to be alone in the house.

But you are on a date. And it usually doesn't end well. Don't get me wrong, Becs. I'm not wishing for you to have a bad date. But my guess is confirmed when I heard our front door being slammed shut a little bit harder. Okay. It's a lot harder than usual.

And just like that. I know that it's you. From the way you slam the door and stomp your tiny feet. I don't usually remember people's stomping feet either. But it's you that we're talking about. And I know everything about you. From the way you smirk to the way you scowl.

People have been calling me The Beca Whisperer for years. And by people, I meant The Bellas. Since apparently, I'm the only one who can tame you. Fat Amy's words. Not mine.

I know just how to respond every single of your actions. I know just how you feel by seeing a light tug on the corner of your lips. I can write a book out of it. And it will become a series. And then people will make movies about it. And people will think that I'm crazy. Or even a creep to the least. And I don't usually do that either. But again, this is you that we're talking about.

You.

"Again?" I ask when you walk into the living room, looking distress and upset.

You simply huff in annoyance and drop yourself on the couch next to me.

It must have been another boring-but-ended-up-with-another-fight date, -your words, not mine, with your long-term boyfriend.

It's always involved movies. Indeed. Lots of cheesy drama and romance. No doubt. That you hate the most. Absolutely.

Yet your boyfriend just doesn't understand. Or maybe he just doesn't care. Or maybe he tries –has been trying for as long as you know him, to turn your perspective over movies. To which by the way, he fails miserably. Still failing.

So you went on a dately trap –you made a lame pun out of it from deathly trap, then you lost interest ten minutes into the movie, and you fell asleep in the next three minutes, where in the end would upset your goofy boyfriend. That whom, by the way, over the years, has become less and less goofy. Your words, not mine.

Then you would come home in upset, you complained to me, saying the same complains you have been complaining for almost three years now, yet when the next day he came with a bouquet of flower, you'd just let it slid.

It's the same routine. I know that already. I've become customized by it.

And it's okay.

And I just lied.

No. Of course it's not okay. But what can I say anyway? You chose him. Not me. Not that you ever know that you have another option. Me. But yeah. You chose him. Not me. It's clear. As clear as my level of stupidity for hanging on to you. For so long.

So just like I said before. I've become customized for this. I've known the drill. First I will start by beating around the bush, then you'll pretend that you don't want to talk about it, making it as if it isn't a big deal, but in the end you'll start to talk, and it's my turn to remain silent.

Let's just start the drill. I smile at you and softly ask, "Do you want to talk about it?"

You groan loudly. And I have to bite my bottom lip to prevent a little chuckle from escaping. You are too adorable for your own good, Becs.

"What happened?" I ask again. Still as soft.

Another grunt is coming out from your throat.

"Geez... That bad, huh?"

This time, you sigh tiredly. So I pull you closer, and you rest your head on my laps. Then I start to stroke your head gently.

You hum in satisfaction. I can see your frown turn into a smile when you say, "You're the best, Chlo."

This is my favorite thing to do with you. Well, one of the things I love to do with you. Actually, I love doing everything with you. Even when we're not doing anything at all.

I chuckle and say, "Tell me about it."

You are especially adorable right now. You with your eyes closed, and your childlike expression that you show only when you are with me.

God! Can you be more adorable than this Mitchell?

And you'd be pretending to be upset every time I tell you so. But you secretly like it. I know. I always have. I mean, it's you that we're talking about.

It has been almost four years since we've become best friends. And we're still going stronger than ever. Beside the fight at the retreat of course. But other than that, you are the pinky to my brain. The Patrick to my SpongeBob. Nobita to my Doraemon. Yeah. You are the lesser out of two. We're a team. We're inseparable.

As best friends.

Even though I wanted more. Always have.

I remember it clearly when you kissed him after we won the first ICCA. Aubrey turned to look at me. And at that moment, I knew that she knew. Even though I'd never told anybody. But she was my best friend. Still is. So naturally, she just knew.

Looking at her sympathizing eyes, I couldn't help but laughed. So hard. And I think it's just how funny love is. When it hurt so bad and you started to laugh.

I am pulled out from my thought when I feel you nuzzle your nose closer onto my stomach. And damn it! can you stop being adorable? God! What I'd give just so I can kiss you right now.

But I shouldn't. No. Because I'm not a homewrecker. And I don't want to make you feel that you're not different than your father. I'm a grown ass woman. I can handle myself. Supposedly. Hopefully. Just please try to tune down the adorable-ness a bit.

So, I simply sigh. But my hand haven't stop caressing your head gently. Not yet. And so is my love for you. It's been almost four years. But the flame you've set in my heart hasn't died yet. Even when you have no idea about it.

Everything is going so fast, Becs. It feels like only yesterday when I got that dumbstruck by seeing you at the activities fair. But again, it's been almost four years ago. And we have won three ICCAs. And I have failed three Russian Lit.

For The Bellas, I told you and everybody else. For you, was the secret I kept to myself.

So many things has changed in the meantime. You and I have changed. The whole world has changed. Yet this feeling I have for you? It hasn't change. If not getting bigger and stronger.

"Why he can't love me and the rest of me just for who I really am? Not for some imaginary bimbo he wants to love by watching too many fictions." You complain. Though it sounds annoyed, I can hear a hint of sadness. Maybe disappointment. More likely.

"Well hellooo... It's called a fiction for the obvious reason. Because it's not real." You add sarcastically.

I simply smile softly and keep on stroking your head. You are facing up now. Still with your head on my laps. And you cross your arms on your chest.

"Why is it so complicated?" You retort in frustration. "Can we just love someone and that's it?"

"Love is a puzzle, Becs." I say nonchalantly. Well I myself haven't found the answer yet. Haven't put the pieces together. Of how I can fall in love with someone who doesn't love me back. For years. I mean, shouldn't I be falling out of loving you already?

"Yeah." You respond with an eye rolling. "A puzzle. And people are wondering why I don't like to be in a relationship. Pfft... puzzle. I don't do puzzle. It's hard. I do easy. I say we make it easy! Let's make it easy, folks! We know we can do it!"

"Now you sound like a motivator." I tease.

You roll your eyes, but the chuckle indicates that you are cooling down. Then you nonchalantly say, "Maybe he and I can just be friends. Friends are easier. I mean look at us. Everything is easy with you. People have been thinking that we're secretly dating. Maybe we should be. I mean, if everything just stay the way they are."

Upon seeing how casual you said it, I put on the best smile I can muster. I can feel that it's a little bit forced though. Okay, a lot forced. And you don't notice. Yet I say nothing. Oh I mean, I do say something. In my mind.

"And I wanted to! For so long!"

Okay. I didn't just say it in my mind. I shouted it out loud. In my mind obviously. That's why I put it in italic font.

"I mean, I'm kind of tired living a life, or more specifically, a lie, where I have to pretend to be not me to make someone happy."

The only thing I can do is staring at you with a sympathetic smile.

"I can't be not me!" You yell again. And this time I can hear anger. "I am me for a goddamn reason!"

All I can do is sighing deeply. I bet you thought I'm showing sympathize. Not quite right, Becs. Not to you at least. More to myself.

I'm not complaining. It's the perks of being in love with someone who has an emotional ability like a four year old. And I might be wrong about the age. Your emotional intelligence might be even younger than a four year old.

I mean, who doesn't know that someone is into them, let alone in love with them, for years?!

Oh, am I getting upset?

I sigh again.

I am getting upset.

Okay. Stop being upset, Beale.

While I am so lost in my own head, and my hand is still stroking your head absentmindedly, you just keep on rambling. And I just watch you spatting out your sarcasm. With your nose scrunching up adorably, and your eyebrows furrowed showing stubbornness, but your lips are pressing tightly like an upset child.

Oh can you stop adoring her, Beale?!

"Okay. Fine! If it is a puzzle, can someone just figure it out for me?!" Your yelling pull me out of my daydream.

"I'm sorry. What?" I say hurriedly. Because I haven't been exactly listening to you.

And then you groan over dramatically. Yet it's still cute on you. Everything is cute on you. And if there's anybody tell you the otherwise, they are either blind, or most likely dead.

Okay Beale! You need to stop now! Focus!

You roll your eyes, sigh over dramatically, and drag your sentence. Also over dramatically. "Can someone just figure it out for me pleaseeeeeeee?"

And this time I can't help myself. You're just too adorable, and I can't help a chuckle escapes. But since I've been trying to hold my laughter, it comes out as a snort.

"Hmph." You huff from your nose with your lips pressed tightly. "And my miserable love life is funny to you how?"

God! That childlike grumbling! And you're not even pouting. You don't do pouting. It's off limits for you. It's my forte. But you don't even need to pout to make me melt into a puddle.

And I am so not sorry for letting out another chuckle. Louder this time.

"Chlo!" You scold. You meant to make me shaking on my feet. Instead, I'm shaking on my shoulder. For laughing. And it makes you even more upset. With your childlike stubborn look. Which only makes me laugh even harder.

You simply stare at me in mock upset. Narrowed eyes. Lips pressing tightly. Arms crossing on your chest.

"So sorry Becs." I say between laughter. "Can't help it. Too adorable."

You huff through your nose again. Harder this time. You stare at me, who are still laughing, and you grumble, "I am so not adorable."

And again. Too adorable. If human could die from being overwhelmed by adorable-ness, then I would've died so many times. I just keep on laughing. Really. I want to stop. The side of my stomach hurts, and I want to stop. But I can't.

Failing to stop me from laughing by scolding, you opt to bite my hand on your head instead. Playfully. But it still leaves a mark. Yet I don't stop laughing. I can't.

Then you start to laugh too. Starting with a scoff, followed with a light laughter, and then you laugh just as hard as I do. You curl on your side, your face facing my stomach, your hand on your stomach.

Told you. Love is funny that way. When it hurt so bad, and you started to cry.

We just laugh even at some point, we don't really know what we're laughing about. And you clearly don't have any idea why I laugh in the first place. But we just keep laughing.

"Babe, the door is un-" Jesse says as he walks into the living room. But he stops halfway upon seeing we're laughing our ass off.

The laughter unwind so fast. And then you sit and straighten up, while I wipe the tears from the corner of my eyes.

"Oh." He says.

It's a low tone, but I can clearly hear that the bomb is ticking and getting closer to the final count.

"Jesse?" You call out in confusion. "What are you doing here?"

He scoffs and says, "Not apologizing to you apparently. Not anymore."

"What do you mean?" You ask again. Still confused, but I can hear a hint of upset in it.

"I'll just uh... go to my room." I say with a tight smile awkwardly.

"Oh please stay, Chloe." He says in annoyance. "I don't want to disturb your happy time with my girlfriend."

Okay. I think can hear the punctuation in the word my. And apparently, I am not the only one.

"Not this again, Jess." You say coldly. "I know that tone. So stop it. Whatever it is you're trying to say."

"Hah!" He put his hands on his hips angrily. "Yes this again, Beca! Don't you see?! It's been years!"

Ooo... This isn't good. Like at all. So as quiet as possible, I stand up, trying to squirm my way into my room.

"Stay, Chloe!" This time, it's you who are asking. Well, snapping to be exact.

I stop on my track and drag my ass back onto the couch.

The glaring duel between you two are intense. I think I can cut it with a knife. And me? If I could, I would've sunk myself into the couch. But I couldn't. So I just squirm, shrinking myself by the edge of the couch.

"We're over." You say so suddenly.

I'm not the only one who are gasping in shock. Jesse's eyes have widened, but his jaw is clenched tightly.

"We're not over." He says with dangerously low tone. "Not until I say so."

You simply cross your arms on your chest and say, "Say it then."

Jesse takes a step forward closer to you.

"Or not." You say, still with cold look on your face. "But for me, we're over. About ten seconds ago."

"I say..." Jesse takes another step closer. "We're not over!"

I kind of want to either pull you back, or give you a standing ovation when I see that you don't step back, or even flinch.

"You can yell all the way to China." You respond still as cold as before. "It's getting old, Jesse. And I'm done trying to be who you wanted me to be."

"No!" Jesse snaps angrily. "We love each other! And people who love each other, stick together! They should be!"

"It's true." You say with a light shrug. "It's a good thing that I don't love you anymore. I've stopped loving you from a long time ago. Maybe I've never even loved you at all."

Now that one, I know is a blunt lie. You love him. You love him enough to stay for almost three years. You love him enough to try. I know you well, Becs. You won't even give it a try if you don't feel anything about something.

This time, Jesse steps back. He is taken aback. With his horrified and hurting look, he says, "You lie. You are lying. You love me."

"Nope." You say without any consolation. "Not anymore."

And this time, I can see that you are holding yourself up. Yep. Your tear duct is going to leak. And how can he not see this?

You glance at me. With an asking for help kind of look. So I stand up and say, "I think you should go Jesse."

He points his index finger at me and snaps, "You stay out of this!"

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself before I say, "Go now. Or I'll call the police."

After a second of hesitation, Jesse says, "This is not over."

Then he walks out of the door, and you drop down on the couch. In tears definitely. And then I wrap you in my arms immediately. This time, I say nothing. I just let you cry your eyes out. It takes a while until your tears subside. And it's okay. I'll wait. Here. As always.

After you calm down, you lay your head back on my laps, staring blankly at the ceiling and say, "All I need is love. But why is it so hard to find?"

I can see the sorrow in your eyes. But I simply sigh deeply. Honestly, I don't know how to tell you my answer without hurting you.

"Chlo?" Apparently, you're waiting for my answer.

Great.

"Uh..." I purse my lips, hesitant to tell you. But what choice do I have. "Maybe you've been looking way too far. And all in the wrong places."

You scoff. Yeah. You scoff. And again, I sigh.

Then you say mockingly, "I've been looking too far? Pfft..."

It's your usual skeptic self. But somehow it makes me upset. So I say, "Maybe, you've been leaving behind someone who has been waiting in front of you, willing to try to fix you right. So right. Someone who has wanted you. For so long."

"Yeah right." Again, with that skepticism.

I blow out air harshly through my mouth and say, louder this time, "You just haven't opened up your eyes for someone who knows how you feel and feels inspired by it. Who has always been here for you, and not fooling around with your feelings. For so long."

You roll your eyes along with a scoff. Again, with your trademark skepticism that sometimes made me want to crawl your eyes out.

I think I might need to hold myself back. No. I've been holding myself back for way to long, so I say, clearly upset this time, "Maybe you're just too blind to see that there's someone who wants to love you, hold you, and give you all the care that you need. Someone who can love you better. That love you so much that the way she's been loving you has been taking you further than you have ever imagined. For so long."

This time, you don't scoff, or roll your eyes. You seem... somehow confused.

"She?" You ask. And do my blood just drained out from my vein in the matter of second.

Shit!

"Chlo?" Again, you with that cute confusion look. But this time I'm too panic to adore it for more than three seconds.

Okay. Deep breath Beale. Just deflect.

"Yeah. She. He. Who cares. It can be anybody." I say, trying (failingly) to be nonchalant.

"Huh?" You simply stare at me with narrowed eyes. And I don't dare to say more words. I know that I'm only gonna make it worse by talking. So I shut the hell up. Yet still, you're staring at me with your steely blue eyes.

At some point, your eyes widen.

Damn it!

"You..." You're dumbfounded.

You are so fucking screwed, Beale.

"I..." You stand up abruptly and mutter, "I've got to go."

Before I can say anything, you're already gone like a wind. Leaving me dumbfounded and scared the hell out of my mind. I think it's time to pack my stuff and move to Thailand. Yeah. It's time.

So I rush to my room, packing up my stuff as fast as possible, sending a text to say goodbye at least to Aubrey, which is stupid because she comes back home merely twenty minutes after I texted.

How could you forget that you're best friend is in town, Beale?!

"What the hell?!" She yells as she walks into my room and sees how messy it is with half of my stuff in my big suitcase, and the other half scattered around the room.

I simply give her a tight smile and keep on packing my stuff.

"Chloe Elizabeth Beale!" This time she is using her pre-puking voice. "Are you out of your mind?!"

Oh God.

"Bree." I say hurriedly. "Breathe Bree..."

Thankfully, she complies by taking a few deep breaths. So don't want to have my stuff stink by her puke on my way to India. Wait. I said Thailand. I mean Thailand. But judging by the throbbing vein on Aubrey's forehead, I might as well say goodbye now. I don't think I'm gonna survive her wrath.

Goodbye universe. Goodbye Papa and Mama. Goodbye my Bella sisters. Goodbye you.

"What, are you, doing?!" She crosses her arms on her chest, raising an eyebrow, staring at me in upset.

"I uh..." I don't know how to tell my best friend that I just scared you out of your mind, and it scared me out of my mind, and apparently, it makes her scared out of her mind.

"Sit down!" She commands with her general voice.

"Yes sir!" I reply like a scaredy cat. And then I sit down on my bed.

"Now tell me what happened." She commands, with her normal voice, but still as upset.

"I might ha-" I don't even have a chance to finish my sentence when you barge into my room and yell at Aubrey. "Posen! Out!"

Wow.

You've never yelled at her before. And when she doesn't budge, you yell again, louder this time, "Now!"

And it works. She's taken aback for a second before squirming her way out of my room. And then you slam the door shut. Then you turn to look at me. And I can see it.

You, are, furious.

And I, am, so, dead.

"I can ex-" I start to say, but you hold up your index finger angrily in front of me to cut me off. You're still panting. You must have been so angry with me.

I understand. I mean, I've expected this. You'd be angry, or disappointed, or even hate me. But what I have not expected is... you kiss me. Yeah. You kiss me. And I'm just sitting on my dumb ass, trying to catch the reality.

Did Aubrey actually kill me by her yelling? Have I died? Am I in heaven now? Is this heave by the way?

Then you pull away and say, "Aren't you supposed to kiss me back?"

"I..." I'm still stunned. And apparently dumb. Literally.

"Well, well Beale." You say with that pants dropping smirk you have. "We might as well go on together. I mean, if you want to. And you can start by kissing me back."

"Huh?" I shake my head in complete shock.

"Don't tell me that I just wasted my time and energy, running to Jesse's place, snapping at him again to his face that we, he and I, are so over. Because we, you and I, will take this further."

"Huh?" Still, I think there's another reason that I actually failed my Russian Lit three times. Apparently, I'm more stupid than I've ever thought.

"I'm gonna give you one, and only one, do over." You say again with an eyebrow raised. And it's just as pants dropping as your smirk. "I'm gonna kiss you again, but if you don't kiss me back, then I take it that you do-"

This time, it's you that couldn't finish your sentence. Because I have kissed you to cut you off. And apparently, you're not as dumb as I am. Because you kiss me back immediately. Eagerly. And not only that. You also lean forward, pushing me to lay on my back.

Aaaand... we did it! We literally drop our pants. Together. End of story.