A/N:
Hey, this is just a preview to a potential story/one-shot I have in my head.
Let me know if anyone is interested..
You know you shouldn't be doing this. You know you shouldn't be feeling this way. But for something that you know to be all too wrong, it felt all too right. You know shouldn't be staring at your best friend like this, hell you shouldn't even been staring at anyone this way. However the problem is that when she's in the room you're hypnotized, you track her movements with your eyes as she graces a room. Some could describe it as eye-fucking, maybe borderline predatory, some Edward Cullen type shit, but you could care less what everyone else thinks. You never really gave a damn what everyone else thinks anyway.
You don't like the way that everyone is also looking at her. The way everyone is looking at Chloe.
You watch the way she bats her eyelashes flirtatiously, how she rests her hand on the forearm of the asshole that is way out of his league; trying his best pick-up lines to try and get her in bed for the night. You feel the burning sensation rise in your stomach once more and while the rational side of you knows it's from the amount of vodka shots and tequila that you've consumed throughout the course night, you can't help but scoff at the idea that you're jealous. Beca Mitchell doesn't get jealous.
Except that you are.
Chloe's giggling at whatever it was that Mr. Blonde Douche whispered in her ear and you tighten your grip on the edge of the bar counter; willing yourself to stay where you are. Which is becoming quite difficult given the fact that every muscle in your body is screaming at you to go over and knock his lights out, to let him, to let everyone, know that Chloe is yours.
Except that she's not.
You and Chloe aren't an item. You've never been on a date. You've never even kissed for fuck's sake. Despite the constant "Bechloe sexual tension" and "toners" that the Bella's have called you both out on numerous times, neither of you have done anything about it. You have to admit, most people already have assumed that you and Chloe are in fact together; Legacy for starters. The way you both walk beside of one another, with Chloe always looping her arm through yours or intertwining your fingers together. The way you talk to each other. The pet names. The flirting. The looks.
You chuckle to yourself as you take another shot of whatever alcohol the bartender placed in front of you. You slam the glass back down on the table and wipe your lips with the back of your hand, feeling the alcohol burning your throat. The guy behind the bar smirks at your determination, he already knows to prepare another glass for you. You turn and notice Stacie making her way over to you from the dance floor, managing to slip away from the group of guys she was dancing with as they watch after her like a bunch of puppies.
"Ah-hoy Captain!" She winks at you seductively as she takes a seat beside you. She orders a drink for herself as she turns herself on the bar stool to face you, her right arm resting against the counter and crossing her long legs.
"I see you managed to tear yourself away from your boy toys." I take notice of the way their gazes have followed Stacie to the bar. They're still ogling her from the distance as I roll my eyes.
"Ah Becs, you almost sound a bit jealous. I'm flattered." She places her hand on her heart as she bats her eyes playfully at me and winks. I shake my head at her and laugh as she smiles at me.
"You know this whole 'brooding bad-girl' thing you have going on is really working for you." Stacie quips as the bartender sets her drink down in front of her. Stacie gives him a quick thank you and blows a kiss in his direction as he blushes.
"I don't know what you're talking about."