A/N: I was on a little plot generator app trying to find inspiration when this one popped up! I wrote this at about 1-2 in the morning because that's apparently the only time I can write, so I hope it's not complete nonsense (I was trying to be dramatic). Anyway, I'm trying to get Airlines updated, but writer's block is the darndist thing, I tell ya. (Any ideas for little scenes for Airlines? PM me please!) For now there's this, and I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: Nope. Just a broke high schooler here. That's why I'm writing fan fiction.
"Beca?"
She grumbles slightly, half asleep, and changes her position on the bed to get more comfortable.
"…Beca?"
The loud, shaky whisper barely disturbs her slumber. A snore slips through her open mouth softly.
"…Beca? Open up…please?"
Hurried knocking finally breaks through her foggy mind to alert her of someone's presence. With a loud snort, she sits up suddenly, her cream sheets slipping from her underwear-clad body. A slow blink uncovers steel blue, almost brown, eyes, hazy from their peaceful rest.
"Beca?"
Those same eyes snap open in sudden awareness as the owner recognizes the hissed whisper coming from outside her apartment's door. She tosses off her sheets in haste, almost tripping over the material wrapped dangerously around her body as she stumbles out of bed. She haphazardly throws on the nearest piece of clothing-not hers her mind subconsciously notes- and slips it over her head, pulling out her messy, brunette hair as she hurries toward the door.
She swings the door open and grabs the taller body, pulling it inside quickly before any syllable of greeting is spoken.
"Are you okay? What happened? It's," the younger woman looks over her shoulder toward the large clock on her wall, double taking as the time of night-or actually day-occurs to her, "two in the morning!"
The taller woman lightly sighs and, for the first time since getting unceremoniously dragged into the apartment, looks into the brunette's eyes, which widen at the sight of her face. She opens her mouth to explain, but nothing comes out. She tried again, but no sound escapes. A sigh once again escapes her lips, this one heavier and shakier, her eyes falling down to the wooden floor.
The smaller woman, known to most as The Resident DJ but others as Beca Mitchell, lightly steps toward the taller redhead and takes her face in her hands. She guides her head up toward her face until brilliant, blue eyes meet her darker ones. Just that one lock of eye contact is enough to cause her eyes to tear up slightly. So many emotions play within her blue eyes: Pain, Worry, Heartbreak, Relief, Fright, Apprehensiveness, Determination, Hope, Defeat.
"Chloe?" Beca whispers tentatively, concern welling up in her heart.
Tears form in the corners of the said redhead's eyes, the puffiness around them giving away the fact that they were only additions to a previous breakdown. The brunette pulls her into a hug, causing Chloe to throw any resolve she had against crying out the window. She runs her fingers through the soft, red hair lying against her shoulder and leads the body to the couch. Once they were sitting down, the DJ pulls the taller woman into her lap, content with calming her before anything else is mentioned.
They sit like this for what seems like hours; Beca running her fingers through Chloe's messy, red hair, whispering soft, comforting words as she cries into her shoulder. After what was, in reality, only thirty minutes, Chloe's cries were tame enough for the brunette to decide to ask the golden question.
"Are you okay?" She noticed slight surprise within those baby blue eyes as the concerned whisper left her lips.
"H-Honestly?" she answers shakily, a pitiful smile appearing on her makeup-smeared face, "I don't know." The smile left her expression as quickly as it had come, and the older woman leaned her forehead against the brunette's.
The younger woman instinctively raised one hand to her cheek to wipe away a stray tear, the other one holding her close.
"What happened?" The question had been gnawing at her since she had heard her whispers through the door, but, to her, the question of whether or not the beautiful redhead in her arms is okay was, is, much more important. She saw the woman's hesitation and adds softly, "What did he do, Chloe?"
"H-He," her voice breaks, and she looks down quickly before raising her eyes back to Beca's to continue, "He tried t-to-" She shakes her head, pursing her lips and closing her eyes. She couldn't continue, it was too painful, too scarring.
"Baby." The brunette coos as she tries to meet their eyes again. Once she succeeds in doing so, her eyes hold a question that is too painful to be spoken aloud. Pursing her lips again, Chloe nods her head in silent answer, resting her head upon the brunette's shoulder once again to muffle her pained cries.
Sadly, this had happened on multiple occasions before. Chloe appears on her doorstep, upset about another cruel thing her boyfriend had done. Every story would sicken Beca to no end and would add fuel to the fire of hatred she burned toward this Thomas Douchepants boyfriend of hers. Nothing had been this bad, though. He had never tried anything physical or forceful upon her. If he had, he would have been mysteriously wiped off the planet long ago. No, he wasn't dumb enough to leave physical imprints on her.
Until now.
And this was the last straw.
"He's gone." The quiet voice pulls Beca out of her hateful thoughts and throws them back into the hidden tresses of her mind.
For now, at least.
"What?" The brunette asks, having not heard the confession.
"He's gone." The redhead repeats, her hands mirroring Beca's as both hands cradle her face. "He's out of my life. Forever." A sincere smile slips to the surface of her freckled face as she rambles, "He's gone. I left him. I don't have to deal with him anymore." A relieved laugh escapes both of them. "Thomas *Douchepants* is gone for good."
"Promise?" She needs clarification. She has said this before, she seems to actually mean it this time, but Beca needs to know if he is actually gone forever.
"I Promise." The smile slips onto Beca's face as well, and the two share a relieved laugh until Chloe looks at Beca's shirt. "I was wondering where that went." She removes one hand from Beca's face and trails it down her favorite shirt.
She breaks her foreheads apart as her steely eyes follow Chloe's hand. She laughs in response, her hand leaving Chloe's face to pull at the shirt before explaining innocently, "Yeah, you left it here a few weeks ago, I have not had any time to give it to you." The redhead's melodic laughter fills her ears, and she adds sarcastically, "It has *nothing* to do with the fact that I wanted to keep this shirt."
"Oh, really?"
"Absolutely nothing."
Their laughter fills the room once again. It dies down soon, though, as they allow the intimate position they were in to sink in. Beca's hand reaches for Chloe's face again to push a stray hair behind her ear, but it lingers in place as Chloe leans into the touch.
"I'm in love with you." Beca confesses quietly, her eyes widening along with Chloe's as she realizes she said it aloud. "Shit." She whispers just as softly.
Chloe laughs at the softness of the interjection, and a brilliant smile appears upon Chloe's face as she pulls Beca closer. "I'm in love with you, too." She whispers just before closing the gap between their lips.
They both smile into the kiss, feeling as if it took forever to get here. They were both happy. No Tom, no pain, no heartbreak, no problems. It was just them, together. Everything had finally come together for the better.
Funny how so much can happen during late nights.