warning: brief mention of self harm and slightly mature themes


Hands

Beca Mitchell was extraordinary. Chloe's never felt so strongly for someone, and when she first saw the brunette, she never expected that one day she'd be marrying her. Chloe Beale unraveled Beca day by day, hour by hour and minute by minute for the past six years, pulling down her walls brick by brick to discover hidden treasures nothing could compare to.

Chloe loved every inch of Beca, from the top of her head all the way to the soles of her feet, but Chloe especially loves Beca's hands. Those small, strong hands that made Beca who she was.


Beca was good at deejaying, she was, in fact fantastic. She'd never admit it, if you ask her, but Chloe knew. Afterall, she's won several awards in the short span of a year in the media already.

Chloe knew that when Beca lay her hands on her turntable, the result would be phenomenal each time. Every flick of Beca's wrist and every twist of Beca's fingers made a new melody, a sound that touched Chloe's heart. Chloe could sit by for hours, simply watching Beca mix.

The way Beca's hands move on the turntables were mesmerizing. The way her fingertips slide ever so smoothly against the rough edges of the knobs, the way her palms sweep over the buttons so quickly. Chloe's breath would catch in her throat as she watched her wife mix.


Beca's hands could create. Her hands were magical, according to Chloe. Beca could draw, Chloe found out after dating her for two months. Beca kept a little sketchbook in her drawer, and Chloe found it when it fell out.

Chloe swooned at the hundreds of sketches of her in the book, flipping each page as she noted the dates at the bottom of the pages. Beca's drawing details increased significantly as Chloe and her got closer. She noted the tiny freckle above Chloe's left eye. She noted the little scar on Chloe's forehead. She noted the small mole directly below Chloe's right ear. Chloe found a colored drawing of herself on one of the last pages, her eyes were painted startling blue, her lips cherry pink and her cheeks tinted red. Chloe let out a small happy noise at that.

At the bottom of the page wrote a few simple words in Beca's adorable scrawl.

I kissed her today

Beca promptly covered her face when she emerged from the bathroom to see Chloe smiling up at her. She saw the sketchbook in Chloe's hands and blushed deep red, she didn't get angry though, she knew Chloe would see it sooner or later. Chloe wrapped Beca up and held her tight, Beca mumbling incoherent words into Chloe's collarbone. Chloe held onto Beca's tiny hands and kissed each knuckle softly before pulling Beca's face to hers gently.

This time as Beca mumbled something into the kiss, Chloe caught the words.

"I love you."


Beca's hands could create, but they could destroy too. Beca didn't exactly grow up in a loving family. Her parents divorced when she was merely eight, leaving her devastated. She sees other kids going out with their parents, their family whole and complete while screaming and crying happened daily in her household.

Beca didn't exactly have a memorable high school period. She hated everyone and despised everyone. She spiraled downhill constantly, she had no one to turn to when she needed help.

Beca's head started screaming at her, her parents screamed at her, her teachers screamed at her. And she broke, at the age of sixteen, her delicate hands found razor-sharp blades, her hands, her hands that could play the piano so perfectly, her hands that could sketch so wonderfully.

Her hands inflicted the first wound on her wrist, her hands brought away the noise in her head and the loud thrumming in her chest. Her hands were tainted red.

She met Chloe two years later, Chloe took care of her, listened to her. And for the first time, she felt wanted, needed, she felt important. Chloe let her recover, she allowed Beca to stand up again.


She taught Beca how to play the guitar, and Beca taught her the piano. Chloe loved watching the shorter girl's hands fly across the black and white keys so gracefully, her head bobbing along to the rhythm each time.

Chloe grinned wide when Beca strummed her angelic fingers against the guitar, emitting a soft sound. Beca smiled back at her and Chloe laughed as Beca played a simple tune.


Beca's hands could make Chloe feel things she's never felt before. As liquor dulled their senses and as they stumbled back to their apartment, Beca's hands had Chloe gasping for air.

As she felt Beca's rough palms touch her bare stomach, her breath hitched, Beca's lips curved into a smirk. Chloe pulled Beca close as their breaths mingled. Beca could make Chloe's heart stop with a simple flick of her wrist, as her hands palm Chloe's chest, Chloe could feel her own shallow breath escaping her slightly parted lips.

As Beca's fingers dip beneath her waistband, all thoughts fly out of her mind as Beca's fingers worked their magic on her. It always leaves Chloe wanting more, leaves her breathless and weak in the knees.

As Beca's fingers puts pressure oh so gently right there, Chloe moans, loud and guttural.


They've been married for two years now, their lives had never been better, Chloe couldn't ask for anything else in the world. Seeing Beca each day, using her talented hands for something she enjoyed doing made Chloe's heart swell.

Each night they would lay in bed, cuddled and tangled closely together, so close that they could be mistaken for one being. Chloe listens to the shallow sound of Beca's breath and feels the rise and fall of her chest.

Beca's fingers slip under Chloe's shirt and trace shapes against her bare back. Chloe shivers, and Beca pulls her closer. As Chloe's eyes drift close, she deciphers the words Beca writes on her back, ever so gently.

Chloe

Beca

Chloe

I love you.