So, I finished my English Paper 2, and Robert Frost and John Montague both came up, my favourite poets on the course. In honour of that stroke of luck, I decided to write and post this one shot I've been playing around with in my mind for a while. It's based on the poem All Legendary Obstacles by John Montague.
If you like this, I have another full length but uncompleted BeChloe story on this site called Vigilante. You should check it out! :3
Leave a review, I love hearing from readers, especially if they have constructive criticism. Just don't talk to me about spelling. As far as I can tell, everyone spels things differently depending on what country you're from. To me, colour has a 'u' in it, and always will.
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All Legendary Obstacles
Beca Mitchell walked through the gates of the train station for the 7th time, her hands clutching yet another polyester cup of steaming hot Latte. She had been walking back and forth beween the coffee shop and Platform 3 since six o'clock that evening, despite the lashing rain that had started at around half-seven.
She sighed and checked her watch, pushing her wet hair out of her face. An old lady pushing a full trolley shuffled past her, plastic hood secured around her head to keep her perm from losing it's style and glasses on a string to prevent them falling to the ground.
Chloe was definitely coming home today, but that was pretty much all Beca knew. The young DJ had pestered her over Skype for more details so that she could pick her up, but due to a bout of the 'flu, Chloe had refused to let her risk her health by going out in the cold. Beca had had to Google train charts and times in order to get even the correct platform - there was no way to predict the time.
A train pulled in, wheels squealing as the brakes where applied. The tiny brunette stood against the corner of the ticket booth, scanning the crowd for the distinctive flash of red. She frowned as once again, she saw nothing.
"Aren't you getting cold yet?"
The balding man in the ticket booth was smilig at her. It was now nearing nine o'clock, and his shift would soon be over. He had been watching Beca half curiously, half warily, since she had walked onto the platform. Originally, he was making sure she didn't board a train without purchasing a ticket, but now he was just trying to figure out who she was waiting for.
Beca shook her head no and gave him a crooked grin.
"Nope. Got my coffee to keep me warm and awake. It really is the greatest thing ever invented."
The ticket master smiled and shook his head at her. Honestly, he thought. Kids these days have no concern for things like pneumonia.
Half an hour later, another train pulled in, and once Beca confirmed that Chloe had not been travelling on it, she walked back over to the coffee shop.
"Hi, can I have a -"
"A tall Café Latte?" The barista said with a wry smile and a raised eyebrow.
"Uh, yeah..."
"No problem. If you'll wait over at the other counter, I'll have it to you right away."
"But I didn't pay."
"On the house. This is your seventh coffee this evening. If you'd been putting stickers on a loyalty card, this'd be your free one. I'm just going to pretend you have been." He grinned at her and began steaming milk.
The coffee shop was warm, with the pale orange walls and mahogany furnishings contrasting nicely. The windows were fogging up, and two teenagers sitting in a booth were drawing hearts on it with their fingers, writing their names inside and holding hands across the table. Beca leaned against the counter watching them. It wouldn't be long now until Chloe was back, and she could feel the anticipation in her stomach at seeing her again.
It had only been two months since Chloe's mother had hurt herself and the red-head had gone back to her hometown to help her, but Beca never felt quite right without Chloe nearby. She didn't say it to her - she didn't want her feeling under any more pressure than she already was - but the distance between them really took it's toll on the DJ. She didn't know what she would have done without video calls and regular texting.
The barista reached across the counter and tapped Beca on the shoulder, tearing her from her thoughts. She accepted the coffee he handed her with a smile, and shoved a crumpled five dollar bill into the tip jar. He grinned as she as she walked out the door, gritting her teeth against the biting cold.
Beca was back in the station when the ten-thirty train pulled in, bringing with it a smell of fuel that made her wrinkle her nose. From her perch on the back of a bench, she once again searched the crowd for red hair, to be disappointed when the place cleared and there was still no sign of her girl. She fished in her pocket for her phone, checking for any texts or missed calls from Chloe. Nothing. The coffee shop was closed now, and the cold was beginning to seep into her bones, despite the thick black Regatta jacket Beca had thrown on before she left, but she refused to go home. She was determined to surprise the red-head, and this way, she could drive her home rather than having her fork out for a taxi.
The ticket master had finished his shift and gone home, leaving a younger man in his place. Whilst the middle-aged man had been a friendly presence, this new guy was giving Beca the creeps. His dark hair was styled with hair gel - it pretty much looked like Taylor Lautner in Sharkboy and Lavagirl - and whenever Beca looked at him, he shot her a leer that was probably meant to be handsome, but just made the DJ feel uncomfortable.
The high walls of the station dulled the sound of the traffic outside, and the sodium lights gave everything a sepia look. The effect was that Beca felt as if she was sitting in this station in 1915, rather than this century. She smiled, wondering whether she would have had the courage to date Chloe one hundred years ago. They would have been regarded as insane, maybe even been arrested, just for being in love. Even today it was hard, dealing with the hate - Beca's own father couldn't handle the thought of someone of his blood being queer - but Chloe Beale made all of that worthwhile.
At eleven o'clock, Beca checked the timetable on her phone. There was one more train due - the midnight arrival. Typical Chloe. She would find the idea of coming home in the middle of the night romantic and alluring. She really should have known this would happen.
She opened her apps, picking out Don't Tap The White Tile to waste some time. When she got bored of that, she moved on to Fruit Ninja, and then spent a few minutes on Clash Of Clans before her phone bleeped to let her know that she was down to three percent battery life.
Sighing, Beca locked her mobile and shoved it into her pocket. When the phone's light was gone, the orange lamps once again gave Beca an old-timey, times long past type of feeling, but this time it made her feel uneasy. She'd had enough trouble trying to feel normal in high-school due to her feelings. She didn't like the idea that long ago she would have been penalised for it.
The man in the ticket booth was still staring at her. Beca was surreptitiously shooting him glances out of the corner of her eye. In the past five minutes, he'd run his hands through his hair seven times, picked his nose twice and cleaned out his ear with his little finger. She suppressed a shiver just thinking about it.
"Hey pretty lady, do you wanna come in here with me? It'll be warmer in here with both of us, we can make our own heat." He shot her a wink, that was probably meant to be seductive, but it made Beca want to throw up.
"No thanks buddy. I'm just gonna wait for my fiancée right here." She held up her left hand, where a slender titanium band with three diamonds embedded in the metal could be seen on her ring finger could be seen. Chloe had an identical one. Beca smiled softly to herself, thinking back to how much they'd laughed when they realised they'd bought each other the same ring - they'd even chosen to propose on the same night. It had been Beca's idea to have the other's names engraved on them. On the inside of her one, the name Chloe Beale was imprinted in a tiny version of the red-head's own handwriting.
"What he doesn't know won't hurt him, beautiful. Come on, it'll be fun."
Beca rolled her eyes. In college, she probably would have punched him, or at least yelled at him for a bit. Being with Chloe had increased her patience - it was kind of a necessity what with the red-head basically being a giant puppy. She regularly had random ideas that she just had to try. Some were simple, like a new recipe or flying paper airplanes with inspiring messages from the top of their apartment building. Those, Beca could get behind. However, there were some downright crazy ones - notably, the time Chloe decided it was her dream to go sky-diving. Beca had spent two weeks trying to tell her that it was a bad plan, only to be brushed off with It's fine Becs, people sky-dive all the time without getting hurt. When it became clear that there wasn't going to be any stopping this one, the DJ decided that if her fiancée was going to be jumping out of a tiny plane and possibly die, she wasn't going to do it alone.
She winced just remembering the actual jump. Trust her to forget her crippling fear of flying until she was strapped to an instructor in an extremely rickety aeroplane. Chloe had managed to calm her down with one of her blinding smiles before take-off, but it had still flipped her stomach (not in the vomiting way, but not in the good way either) when her instructor had stepped them out the door.
Beca checked the ornate brass clock that hung beneath the platform sign - the hands were aligned at twelve, and she could just barely hear the rumbling of the tracks. A few seconds later, the train came into view, screeching to a halt and opening the doors with a hiss. Only a handful of people got off - Beca supposed only a handful of people were crazy enough to think a midnight arrival was a good idea. She stood up, her eyes finding that familiar figure immediately. She could feel the man in the ticket booth watching her, but she didn't care. Finally, the love of her life was standing in front of her, in the flesh.
She walked up to her fiancée, who was hefting a heavy-looking rucksack onto her back. Another lay by her feet, and Beca stooped to pick it up. When she straightened up, Chloe was staring at her and it was then that the DJ knew she wasn't the only one who didn't feel quite herself without the other. She didn't have much time to ponder it though, before Chloe's lips were on hers.
It was like coming up for air after being submerged, but Beca hadn't even known she was drowning. She cupped Chloe's face with one hand, tangling the other into her hair. She sighed as she felt her fiancée's arms encircle her waist, pulling her closer. The rain was still falling around them, but neither of them cared. The train was pulling out of the station when they separated.
"I told you to stay home. What if you get sick again? You'r soaked, Becs."
Beca didn't answer, just pulled her back in for another kiss, this time seeking access to the inside of Chloe's mouth, but the red-head pulled away.
"How'd you know what train I was getting?"
Another kiss. This time Chloe let her in, seeming to sense that she wasn't getting any answers just yet.
-LemonyOrange-
I love taking the train at night, it just seems so mysterious. Anyway, it's approaching 1 A:M here, so I'm going to bed straight after uploading this. Goodnight!