A/N: Let me just preface this by saying I. Don't. Know. What. This. Is. If any of you at all still remember me, I've been stuck with writer's block for like five months now since completing YUM and this is the only thing I've managed to even vaguely call "finished" in that amount of time despite many attempts.

Anyway, you needn't spare me any criticism you have, but I'd just like to meekly point out that this is mostly just my bridge back into writing and thus may not make much sense… Still. Let me know your thoughts.

'Beca.'

'Beca.'

'Beca, come on!'

Chloe's got her arms around your shoulders, rocking you back and forth. As she does so she whines in your ear - too loudly, but that's nothing new - 'Beca, come on, stop being a grump.'

'I'm not being a grump,' you say, a tad grumpily, as you try and focus on the screen of your laptop despite the way Chloe is moving you from left to right and making you a little seasick. 'I've just got stuff to do.'

She gasps, sounding scandalised. 'Stuff that's more important than hanging out with your loving and caring friends?'

You hate when she does this, so you just sigh and pointedly browse through your computer files as though you're looking for something. Really you just want to appear busy. Because it's not that you have stuff that's more important, it's just that you have stuff - well. You have stuff that's a lot easier, much more familiar to deal with, and that's what matters. Probably. You're not really sure anymore, because Chloe's movements and the way her breath is playing on your neck is very distracting.

'Can you stop doing that now?'

Chloe's not stupid. 'Sure. I will when you go out with me.'

Pause. You're not sure if Chloe meant it the way it came out, but something tells you that following that train of thought is a bad idea. You've been down that mental road, and all it leads to is sleepless nights under your covers making angsty mixes. Jesse's already threatened to destroy your Mac if you make any more remixes of Mariah Carey songs, so it's really not a good idea.

'Chloe, I'm tired. I don't want to go out tonight.'

Chloe's rocking slows, until the two of you are simply swaying back and forth. This does not make it any less irritating. At least, it doesn't, until Chloe's hands make their way up to your shoulders and start massaging and kneading, and okay, maybe sometimes you don't mind Chloe's absolute disregard of personal boundaries. Even if that's the whole reason she's here - she didn't even knock, just managed to slip past when Kimmy Jin went out and creep up on you. She's like a ninja. A ginger one. With awesome massage skills.

'We've barely seen you all week except for practice,' Chloe tells you after a minute or two, her voice quiet and wheedling. 'You just come in, sing, dance and leave. It sucks, I miss talking to you.'

She punctuates the last few words with a particularly welcomed pressure at the base of your neck with her thumbs, making you shiver and - for God's sake, how does she always do this? You can already feel yourself weakening. It's not fair. So you sit up straight, making her hands fall away even though your muscles are already protesting the absence of her touch.

'I'm busy,' you tell her firmly. You see her brow furrow in the reflection of your laptop's screen, which has already gone to idle since you got so distracted.

'So wait, are you busy, or tired? Which one is it?'

She sounds annoyed. You squirm.

'... Both.'

Her frown grows deeper at that. Your hands twitch in your lap nervously, a little worried about her reaction - Chloe can be a little demanding of your time, emphasis on the demanding part - but then she just sighs, and rests her cheek on top of your head.

It's an odd moment. Chloe's stopped her swaying, so now she just has her arms wrapped loosely around your shoulders, and her cheek is warm on your scalp.

And then she just stays like that, unmoving. In the reflection you can just about see that her eyes are closed. Her breath is even and warm, ruffling your hair a little with every puff. And even as you watch her, eyebrows steadily getting higher, she doesn't say a word.

Jesus Christ. Is she asleep?

'Chlo -' you start, about to move your head, but she makes a little noise of discontent and you freeze despite yourself.

'Don't move,' she says unhappily, her grip on you tightening, like you're one of the stuffed animals you know she has in her bed. Okay, this has gone on long enough.

'Chloe, seriously, what are you doing?'

But in lieu of an answer, Chloe asks, practically speaking into your hair, 'Do you not want to spend time with me?'

The question catches you off guard so much you jerk with surprise, moving your head again and eliciting another murmur of discontent. You find yourself apologising automatically, like you're the one being difficult. But you're still caught up in what she asked so it doesn't bother you too much. 'What are you talking about?'

'Is that why you're so distant in practice and when you talk to me lately? And why you won't come and have fun with us? You've barely responded to my texts this week.'

'That's not true,' you protest, 'I spoke to you yesterday.'

'To tell me you were too busy to talk and you'd text me later.'

You wince as you do a quick flick through your memory and realise she's right. 'Okay, maybe I've been a bit lax with replying to texts. But I haven't been distant.'

But she points out, 'As soon as practice was over you were out of the door, every time.'

'I had work.'

'Every day?' she asks sceptically.

'Uh, yeah.'

It's not a lie. And you know Chloe knows it isn't too, because her gaze meets yours in the laptop screen and she blinks slowly.

'Wow,' she says quietly, 'I guess you really have been busy, huh?'

'I did tell you.'

'I thought you just...'

'Just what?'

'Didn't want to spend time with me. I thought you'd, you know, gotten a bit sick of me always being around.' She lets out a little self-deprecating laugh, and you feel like a bit of an asshole since she was able to assume that of you so quickly.

'No, I'm not sick of you. Far from it.'

She lifts her cheek from your head, and you turn to look up at her for the first time since she came in and basically jumped you at your desk.

'You're so needy,' you tell her, but grin to soften the remark. 'I had no idea.'

'Only where you're concerned,' she replies. She grins back, making yours slip away, because you smile to tell people you're joking but you don't know whether Chloe does the same.

Or which one you're hoping for.

Her hands are tugging absently at the collar of your shirt, rolling the material between her fingers. You've learnt already that Chloe is a very tactile person and always needs to be in physical contact with someone (you've seen her do it to countless other people that she's just met and watched them appear just as unnerved as you) but you're slowly getting used to it. Sometimes.

'So you're not going to go out with the Bellas?' she asks. For once her gaze isn't on yours, it's on her hands and watching the movement of her fingers. They graze your throat. You suddenly feel very self conscious about swallowing.

'No… Um, probably not. Honestly, I just don't feel… up for going out...' You trail off as she lifts both sides of your collar up to frame your neck, smiling to herself. 'What are you doing?'

Her eyes flicker up to yours, once, and she laughs.

'Honestly, I have no idea.'

Now that's a sentiment you connect with strongly.

'Sometimes I just do weird things like this,' she continues, finally ceasing her abuse of your plaid shirt. 'Does it bother you?'

Of course it does, but not for the reasons she thinks.

'No,' you say, because it's your problem - not hers.

'Do I bother you?'

She's still not meeting your eyes, and you're really not liking this sudden appearance of insecure-Chloe. You've seen a lot of different Chloes in the short time you've known her - excited Chloe, annoyed-Chloe, drunk-off-her-ass Chloe, and even Aubrey-you're-being-unreasonable Chloe, but this is definitely your least favourite.

You swivel in your chair so you're facing her properly, even contemplate taking her hands before you realise what a dumb idea that'd be.

'No,' you say firmly, the same way you told her "I'm busy" only a little while ago. How things change, and how quickly you lose your resolve when it comes to her. 'You don't.'

'Even though I -'

'No,' you interrupt.

'You don't even know what I was going to say.'

'Doesn't matter. You don't bother me.'

The corner of her mouth quirks up. 'I was going to say how I sneak into your room without knocking.'

'Oh, well, yeah, some knocking would be nice. Don't go overboard though.'

She laughs at that, then takes your hands in hers and threads your fingers together, because to Chloe that's apparently not a dumb idea at all. You yourself are starting to rethink your previous assessment of it, given the soft press of her palm against yours. You make a mental note about it for the next time you chicken out of physical contact with Chloe.

You stay like that for a minute or two, then Chloe tilts her head slightly. Somehow she migrated closer throughout the handholding, so she's pretty much standing with her legs either side of one of yours, towering over you. You try not to think about it too hard.

'If I promise to knock in the future,' she says, 'can I stay here?'

You arch an eyebrow. 'You mean like, instead of us going out with the Bellas?'

'Yeah.'

'Don't you want to spend time with them?'

'I'd rather spend time with just you,' Chloe says, far too honestly for your liking, and God, it'd be so much easier just to say no and hide under your covers and remix Mariah Carey but then your lips are forming the word 'Sure' and before you know it, you've gone and said it and Chloe's face is lighting up and she looks way too happy for someone who's just agreed to spend a night with a veritable teenage hermit.

But hey, you think weakly, as Chloe tugs you up out of your seat so she can take it and start listening to and gushing over your mixes, it's not like you'd ever really want to say no to Chloe anyway.