You're stuck on me, you don't know why

Can't leave me any time you try

They say that everybody cries

So don't think twice 'cause it's alright

Her hands were nervous (why were they nervous?) as she raised one fist to rap against the dorm's door, her jaw set and her other hand shoved too far down into her hoodie's pocket. Fists for fighting her own worst enemy – herself. Beca Mitchell was careful, calculative, cold, and most importantly, she was safe. She has spent years building walls just to avoid this sort of stupid thing and – goddammit – she yanked her sleeves down with more force than necessary to cover to grasshopper tattoo and gritted her teeth. "Chloe, c'mon," she called, agitation lacing her voice. "I know you're in there…" Beca Mitchell was not a girl any girl wanted to be; that's how she got into this mess.

Chloe peered through the very slight crack in the door, leaning heavily into the jamb for support. Her face was taught and tired and streaked, somewhat blotchy, from the tears. "What." It wasn't a question, and her big blue eyes softened slightly when she saw Beca flinch at her uncharacteristic tone. Chloe Beale was trusting and caring and fun and loving and most of all open. She was the girl a girl wanted to be. And that's how she found herself on one end of this mess.

"You've been avoiding me since ICCA's, Chlo," the shorter brunette said, half of a whine creeping into her voice. "And I miss you." She mumbled the last bit, always unsure. That wasn't careful. But still, even with both fighting fists buried so deep in her pockets that her jacket tugged uncomfortably on the back of her neck, she wedged the rubber toe of one of her Converse sneakers into the crack in Chloe's door, hoping to maybe keep it open long enough to figure out what happened. Her dark eyes focused on her shoe as if it was the most absolutely fascinating thing in the world. It wasn't.

"Yeah. I have." Chloe opened the door a little more, looking at the girl in front of her. "It's Sunday night and I have –"

"No you don't. I know you don't have classes tomorrow, Chloe. Can I come in?" Beca nudged at the door with her toe, meeting the redhead's gaze with an almost pleading expression. "You're like my only friend please don't run away." She bit her cheek, paling considerably, as Chloe turned to walk away, leaving the door ajar. The redhead stiffened at the gushing confession, and sat gingerly on her small bed, patting the mattress next to her. Beca quietly shut the door behind her, leaning back against it for support briefly, wincing at the audible click. Everything was enhanced, that's just how it was, when something goes wrong. She sat next to Chloe, tucking one leg under her and letting the other hang off the edge of the bed. "What did I do?"

Chloe laughed, looking at the crestfallen brunette, her laugh harsher than it's ever been. "Are you fucking kidding me, Beca?" The other girl frowned, shrinking back into her shell. Always her shell. Coward, she chastised herself silently. "I have all but been drooling over you all year and-and you went and kissed fucking Jesse!" Chloe shouted, her voice cracking and her face fell.

Beca swallowed hard. "I thought I was supposed to I'm gay I don't know you're everything I want to be and I don't know how to handle it so I ran away because I got scared and he was safe and we're not together." She clamped her jaws shut again, focusing on her knee, which was bouncing at an alarming rate. She wasn't the self-assured, cocky girl Chloe had seen at the Activities Fair; she didn't have her walls up. The one thing Beca lacked were Chloe-Walls, which she was filling a foundation for in her head already. "I thought you were just being nice," she added quietly, in an actual sentence. "I'm not likable. I'm not lovable. I'm mean and distant and angry all the time and I thought you were my friend so I ran away and did something I didn't want because I want you." Her face was a deep, ashamed crimson, and she tensed visibly as a pale hand slid across the sheets, and slid up to rest on her knee. Her breathing hitched with anxiety. She wasn't being safe or calculative or protective. She was being… human.

"So?"

Beca shrugged, clenching her jaw too-too tight and raising her eyes to meet Chloe's. The redhead laughed again, a genuine, bubbly laugh, at the obvious discomfort that was etched across Beca's face. "Oh my god you're so red," she giggled, cupping the younger girl's face with both hands, leaning forward so their foreheads touched.

"So?" Beca asked, in return, her lips tugging up in a very familiar smirk. Her whole body was tense, but she melted right into Chloe's lips. Slow, easy smiled began to creep across their faces, and Chloe buried her face in the crook of Beca's neck, almost in her lap. "I didn't mean to be rude," the brunette offered lamely, awkwardly fumbling to hold the redhead's hand in her own. "I didn't think you wanted me. I'm just dumb. But I've been kinda stuck on you."

"Not dumb. Just impolite."