Disclaimer: No, I do NOT own Pitch Perfect. Obviously.
Author's Note: Alright. BECHLOE it is, because everybody knows those two are meant to be together. I mean, come on. Anybody can see they have the hots for each other. ;) Anyway, chapters shall be made after PROMPTS (whether words or phrases). YES, just like Every Word—but, this time, these are in order. It starts with this chapter, then the next is the continuation, but the story would be influenced by the plot. So, leave a prompt in the comments, yes? I won't be able to type up the next chapter without a word, this story won't go anywhere without a prompt. :) Hey, this is my first time writing about Beca and Chloe, so go easy on me. Don't go raging on about how I don't 'capture Beca's personality' or something, because I just started, okay? Thank you. :)
By the way, this is short because it's the prologue… or something, whatever. I promise it'll be longer. R&R, please?
: Shelter From a Storm :
The rain battered the pavement intensely, screaming bloody murder on the ground as it unleashed powerful winds and impossible downpours onto the students of Barden. Many of them quickly scattered for shelter, turning to the nearest building for a quick escape—one student, however, spent her time cussing out loud at the angry black clouds before stomping off to search for the nearest shelter. A coffee shop was her destination, and she instantly passed through the oak door and stamped her feet on the welcome rug.
"Stupid rain," Beca grumbled underneath her breath. Her brown hair was soaked and wiry, her eyeliner slightly runny, but not too streamed out. Her clothes were wet, surely, but she was just glad she didn't have her laptop nor her flash drives with her. If they'd gotten wet, Beca would've exploded into a mess. People would have to scrape her innards from the streets for days. It wasn't too much of a good sight to imagine, so, instead, she discarded the thought and headed for the farthest booth the café had to offer. She quickly slid in, teeth nibbling on her thumbnail as she glared off to nothingness on the empty seat in front of her. Anger continued to boil in her stomach, though she tried her best not to let it show. She spoke her order to the waitress before turning to fiddle with the sleeve of her jacket.
"This has to be the worst. Day. Ever." Beca glanced up when she heard a familiar voice, though the usual cheeriness was replaced with the slightest hint of sorrow. It didn't take much of a while for her to catch sight of her two fellow Bellas, and, unfortunately for her, they seem to have seen her at exactly the same time. Aubrey quickly swiveled on her heel, making a move to leave, but her companion, Chloe, caught her arm and tugged, causing the blonde to face her way. "Nu-uh, Aubrey, we're not going back out there. I swear, that storm is out for my blood."
Without waiting for her best friend's confirmation, the fiery red-head instantly walked to the back of the café and greeted Beca with the sweetest of smiles—Beca believed she suddenly popped a cavity at the sight of it. Not that she minded. She simply gave the girl an awkward nod, her shoulders further slouching as Aubrey approached with a disapproving look on her face. Seriously, Beca wished the blonde would just give her a break. What had she ever done wrong to the Bellas' captain?
Beca didn't even want to know. She's been in Aubrey's hit list ever since they first met.
"Mind if we sit with you?"
Beca motioned for them to sit, Aubrey sitting across from her, acting like the freshman had a disease and she was afraid to catch it. Beca expected as much—though, what she didn't expect was Chloe suddenly sitting next to her instead of Aubrey. The blonde wasn't too surprised, though, or perhaps she was too busy giving Beca the stink eye. Beca shook her head only the slightest bit, pushing herself to the wall when she realized Chloe was sitting a little bit too close for comfort… okay, Chloe was practically sitting on Beca's lap, she was so close. She began to think she should've just hid from their sight instead of meeting their eyes. Too late.
As Chloe hailed down the waitress to add her and Aubrey's orders, Beca remembered what she first heard of the redhead when they magically appeared from Narnia, or wherever the two went to whenever Aubrey wasn't busy kicking the Bellas' butts. Something about the worst day ever? Why, Beca was sure she's never heard Chloe say such a thing before, the girl had always been quite a ray of sunshine for everybody. It was hard to put a damper on her mood, and Beca wanted to know what did. Before she could ask, however, Chloe was already answering, though it was highly unlikely that the redhead read her mind. It was more of Chloe wanting to share her misfortune to anyone that would listen.
"It was awful. All of my papers were washed away by the rain—days of research, gone." Chloe placed her head in her hands, but Beca could see the slight smile on the redhead's face. Sure enough, the senior perked up again, as if her misfortune hardly affected her. Her shoulders rose and fell with a shrug—and one side of her pink shirt fell with the gesture. The redhead didn't seem to notice however—either that, or Chloe didn't care.
Oh, right, she's confident about all of that. Beca could remember how she was so violently (not really) interrupted by Chloe in the showers. How could she ever forget that day? Chloe was the first ever person to see her naked apart from her mother—the freshman stopped the thought there.
"Don't you have a copy of it?" Beca asked without really thinking of it, the question appeared out of nowhere and it was out before she could stop it. Hey, at least it was a harmless question. Beca found herself saying all sorts of things without thinking them in Chloe's presence, oddly enough. The girl makes her nervous, though Beca was sure it wasn't because she was intimidated.
"Yeah, a half-finished one—Oh, God, I knew I should've backed it up before I printed it. Oh well, half is better than none, right? I still have three days, I guess I can scrape something up from that," Chloe answered, lifting her face from her palms to flash her friends an optimistic smile. There was the Chloe everybody knew and loved, able to think of the bright side even under the blackest clouds. Speaking of which, Beca glanced out the window and sighed at the sight of the skies. It didn't look so good.
"Looks like we'll be here for a while, especially since Beca here doesn't have an umbrella either," Aubrey snorted quietly, following the freshman's gaze to the source of the harsh rain.
"Aubrey, are you seriously blaming this on me?"
Instead of answering, Aubrey turned her attention to her cup of tea, which had just arrived. Beca wondered why she even bothered. The blonde would always treat her like public enemy number one, the freshman guessed she should be used to that. She looked down at her own coffee cup and lifted it to take a sip, the hot, bitter-sweet liquid warming her tongue and instantly setting her body temperature down a notch. She was still cold, sure, and Chloe's also-drenched body was half-pressed against hers, but she realized that, somehow, by some odd fluke of nature, she was feeling hot. Maybe even feverish? Beca lifted a hand and pressed the back of her palm to her forehead. No, she wasn't feverish, but she felt the fire building up beneath her skin. Thinking it was the coffee, Beca went back to enjoying the beverage.
The freshmen happened to glance towards the redhead sitting beside her, and she was almost surprised to see that the girl had ordered a strawberry smoothie—a smoothie—instead of a hot beverage like her two companions. Wasn't the girl freezing, or had she suddenly grown immune to the cold weather? "A smoothie?"
"What?" Chloe smiled almost sheepishly as she separated her lips from the bendy straw. There was the slightest drop of pink smoothing on her lips, which she seemed oblivious to. Beca thought the sight was quite amusing, not that she'd let anybody know. She did have a reputation to uphold, correct? She wasn't known as 'Beca: The cool DJ who's easily amused at the sight of Chloe and her silliness'. Heavin forbid, Beca would most likely die of humiliation if ever anybody found out how the redhead made her smile on the inside. More entertaining than movies, that was for sure.
"You have a little smoothie on your lips, Chloe," Aubrey suddenly pointed out before Beca had the chance to. Chloe only grinned and wiped it off, apparently unembarrassed by it. Still, the redhead's eyes were on the freshman, and though Beca felt quite captivated by the senior's beautifully-colored irises, she was slightly unnerved by the attention, and she began picking at the rim of her cup just so she didn't get too anxious underneath her stare.
"You were asking something?" Beca didn't need Chloe to remind her.
"Yeah, um, you got a smoothie?" Beca realized how stupid the question sounded. She wanted to smack herself.
"What's wrong with getting a smoothie?" Beca could hear the amusement in Chloe's voice, boy, how the freshman wanted to crawl into a hole and die of humiliation. So easily wound up by the redhead, even when she hasn't said anything wrong or flirty in any way. Where did her defenses go? Beca was lead to believe that Chloe stole them and left her paper for armor. Great. Just great.
"Nothing, it's just, you know, it's already cold, and you're drinking something cold—wouldn't you get frostbite or something?" Beca wanted to slam her head on the table because of her awkwardness. Oh, God, please, kill me now.
"Frostbite?" Chloe laughed, and though Beca was oddly happy at the sound of it, the freshman still wanted to punch herself in the face for her inability to interact and ask questions like a normal person. "Nah, that's never going to happen. Besides, if I get cold, you're there to hold me, right, Beca?"
"Um… what about Aubrey? Can't she hold you?" Beca motioned to the blonde sitting across them, the blonde whose eyes were narrowed to very suspicious slits. Chloe only laughed again.
"Aubrey can't hold me, silly. She's the Ice Queen," Chloe commented, to which Aubrey finally decided to jump in.
"Uh, I'm right here," Aubrey pointed out. Beca exhaled loudly, eyeing her coffee as if it held the answers to everything. And I repeat, oh, God, please, kill me now.