Graduation had come and gone a number of years ago for both Chloe and Beca, which inherently meant that a lot had changed; especially within this very moment.
Beca was currently a small portion of the person she used to be. The once passionate, emotional, and driven woman was presently the embodiment of a cheap hotel. She was cold, cracked and to say that she was uncomfortable was a grand understatement.
Although it wasn't because of the hard plastic chairs, or the harsh smell of bleach which was emanating from every surface Beca could see. What made Beca most uncomfortable was the lack of Chloe in her life, along with the uncertainty of her return. Although Beca had physically been with her long-term girlfriend every day, all day for the previous week and a half, Beca had gone without seeing Chloe's stunning eyes, or gorgeous smile or even her soothing voice.
Good things
Come to those who wait
Well the hour's getting late
And I'm here
And I'd wait all year
Instead white, lots and lots of sterile white surfaces surrounded Beca. That was the thing about hospitals; they didn't tend to have a lot of colour to them. The colour in which Chloe would bring to the room was also missing. Due to the large wound on Chloe's head, a white bandage bound her bright wavy locks. Even the rosy colour of her cheeks was missing. It was almost as if the very soul and personality of Chloe had left her body on impact. That scared Beca the most. She couldn't handle that amalgamation of "what ifs" currently engulfing her thoughts.
They began as large, sweeping concerns: "what if I lose Chloe", "what if she doesn't make it through". But as time progressed, the thoughts followed: "What if I never feel the warmth of her breath on my neck", "What if I never get to slip my hand into hers, again". Beca was well and truly in a state of panic at this point. "What if I never get to kiss her, or hold her again", "What if I'll never see her face light up as she lights the first fire of fall". She had been pacing for the best part of fifteen minutes and was in danger of wearing through the linoleum when she stopped dead in her tracks; "what if I never get to ask her to marry me." She broke down into a fit of sobbing at the sudden realisation.
She sat curled up on the floor next to Chloe's bedside, as she had been for the last few days, reminiscing about the weeks prior to this, ah, "little", event. During this time she had been able to involuntarily explore a wide variety of emotions in response to Chloe's situation.
At first Beca was a combination of scared and sad, but mostly scared. Getting a call from A&E isn't exactly what she had in mind for her Saturday night. The news of it being for Chloe only added to the small brunettes concern.
The next to come was anger. Of course Beca was angry that a drunk driver had ploughed into her girlfriend as she was walking down the street. She was beside herself, she wanted to find the man and make sure he received what he deserved. Because god knows, Chloe didn't deserve this.
And that's when the sadness returned once again. She was in utter despair because Chloe really, really, didn't deserve this. No one deserved to be in this much pain, or to be painted in the number of deep purple and blue bruises, which currently littered her petite frame.
Okay, so Beca could probably think of a number of people who deserved this but, in her defence they were murderers, rapists, or those who tried to wake her before the sun had risen.
Beca then became numb, every now and then dipping back into the large pit of sadness and despair. She was only brought out of this seemingly never-ending loop when someone entered the room.
She arose to see who had walked in, wiping away tears as she did.
Needless to say, Beca was slightly taken aback when she looked up to see her own mother. The older woman carried large bags in each hand, matching those under her eyes. Quickly dropping them, she made her way to her daughter, encapsulating her in a silent embrace. This was broken as Beca began sobbing into her Mothers chest.
This one's for the torn down, the experts at the fall
Come on friends, get up now, you're not alone at all
After giving her a moment to console herself, her mother spoke, "Honey, I brought something and I hope you don't mind." Beca glanced up, confused. "I just know how much you both enjoyed them last year," she continued, "and I thought they might brighten a few spirits again this year." Martha was reaching into one of the large bags she had brought in with her, pulling out matching sweaters for both Chloe and Beca.
"Oh my God, Becs! These are the cutest, where did you get them?" Chloe had been hunting high and low for the perfect ugly Christmas sweater or one that resembled Ron and Harrys and needless to say, none of them had met her standards. "Uh, well, actually my Mom made them for us." Of course they were perfect to Chloe, not only where they the perfect combination of the ugly sweater but they also adorned their first initial and now, they were handmade.
As they had arrived within the first week of December, they spent the entire Christmas season in them. They baked, wrapped presents and decorated whilst in them before carefully packing them away so the same process could be repeated the following year.
A tear rolled down Beca's cheek, "You didn't have to."
"I know. I wanted to. I hope it's okay." She reached forward to wipe the tear away.
The remainder of the evening came and went with the two feeling comfortable within each other's presence, reminiscing about their favourite memories with one another, as well as Chloe.
They mainly consisted of the liveliness in which she embodies, they way she lights up a room, or in most recent cases – Beca's life. How without her, Beca's life was becoming somewhat more akin to grey scale, rather than the vivacious oil painting it had been since Chloe had entered her life.
They spoke about how poetic and utterly cliché the entire thing seemed yet, that's Chloe. That's when Beca clicked.
After all this talk about how Chloe was physically lacking her usual colour, along with the colour she brought to Beca's life, she realised that this time she was going to have to be Chloe's colour.
Sure, she had been there for Chloe when she needed her – she wasn't a bad girlfriend by any means, but this was different. This time Chloe wasn't there to prompt her, or to lightly guide her along the way.
The following day Beca made a quick trip to the shops before getting to the hospital, once again. After clearing it with the head nurse on Chloe's floor, she began. Beca somewhat tastefully decorated every surface she could get a Christmas themed decoration to stick to. As the entire room was roughly 300 square feet, she didn't have too much to work with. But she tried. She wanted Chloe to wake up to something she'd want to see, so she did her darndest to put herself into Chloe's shoes.
And this part was for her
And this part was for her
This part was for her
Does she remember?
Tinsel was wrapped around the bars of hospital bed, a small tree (Chloe would have called it "Beca sized" regardless of the barely noticeable height difference) on the bedside table, baubles from each of the doorknobs and Chloe's blanket had been replaced with the Christmas quilt they had made during their first Christmas together.
Okay, so it wasn't tasteful at all – Beca normally follows Chloe's lead with these things, but she had tried. The once clinically stale room had been transformed. The remaining touch Beca had kept until Chloe woke.
Once she had finally finished, it was the early hours of the morning (why this hospitals visiting hours were so odd was beyond her). Just as she began to settle onto the floor Beca noticed the heart rate monitor slowly picking up speed. As she stood, reaching for Chloe's hand she saw her eyes slowly flicker - flickering Beca's world momentarily.
In that moment, the only light coming from within the tiny room came from the heart rate monitor and now, Chloe's eyes. "Bec?" Her voice was soft and groggy. "Beca?" Chloe grew slightly panicked as she searched for the smaller woman.
"Chlo, I'm here, I've got you."
Over the coming hours nurses and doctors alike were checking in on the redhead more regularly, ensuring that she was remaining in a stable state. "Becs?" This was the first real moment they'd had alone.
"Chlo?" She clasped her hand around the redheads.
"Did you do all this?" She gestured around the room, to the various Christmas decorations as Beca grew a dark shade of red.
"Uh, I did. Yeah." Beca was staring at ceiling, avoiding eye contact at all costs. "I actually haven't finished, there's one thing left to complete the whole thing." She moved a few feet to the large bags her mother had left all those nights ago.
"While you where out, my Mom stopped by once or twice and brought these with her." Beca fished out the new Christmas sweaters. They were the same as last years; only the colours had been alternated. Chloe's new one now matched Beca's old and vice-versa. Due to the amount of wires and various machines still attached to Chloe, they opted to use it as a blanket, allowing Chloe to cuddle up to it in bed.
The days proceeding were slow, but steady in terms of Chloe's recovery. A week was spent within the confines of the very same, although newly decorated, hospital room before she was discharged and allowed to return home.
Chloe hadn't even thought to look at a calendar or ask for the date until she was signing her release forms. She turned on her phone, only to discover that todays date was indeed December 25th. It was the best Christmas present either girl could ask for.
This one's for the faithless, the ones that are surprised
This one's for believing if only for it's sake
Come on friends get up now love is to be made
