whatever
Beca doesn't try to force it down. It's been so long, she hasn't needed to – she doesn't remember how to, honestly – and a smile pulls at her lips. It's small, it's tiny; it isn't even noticeable but she can still feel it there. A moment ago, her gaze had flitted around, awkward, confused; now it won't even move, not even an inch. She smiles first – Beca doesn't remember her name, but – and it – wow. There are butterflies in her stomach, but they're calm; they flutter over to her chest and they make her feel warm, safe. Her eyes are so blue.
But of course, the moment has to be shattered. A stranger walks in and the butterflies turn nasty and her eyes turn restless again, and suddenly it feels as though that – that – had just been a dream. Beca doesn't even remember what that feeling's called. What is that feeling called?
Whatever.
Beca doesn't know what love is, but she figures this must be it, so she kisses him. She kisses him and he kisses her and it's soft, sweet; turns a little rougher, passionate. But she's struggling to keep her eyes closed. She doesn't know when it happens, but her lashes flicker; scenes pass before her like photos in a camera, and then they refuse to shut. The first thing she sees isn't Jesse (quite a feat, considering their proximity), the first eyes she meets aren't brown. Blue.
Whatever.
So her and Jesse didn't work out. She didn't have someone else, it wasn't him, it wasn't anything; they just didn't… y'know. It happens, right?
Chloe's sprawled across her sofa, headphones in, sleeping even though Beca can hear the music she's not listening to from her chair three feet away. The rise and fall of her chest is steady; her breath is a little raspy as a result of her absent nodes and she smiles in her sleep. She smiles a lot more than she used to back then – after you showed me how to stand up to Aubrey, queue melodious laughter – and seeing her smile has always made Beca smile, ever since the first time. Chloe's been in her room pretty much every day since the break-up, since Beca's call (much to the dismay of her not-so-hilariously anal roommate), and they've just been… y'know. Not movies (Chloe doesn't want to remind her of Jesse), but other stuff, stuff to take her mind off it. Friend things.
All Beca knows is that she's never been happier. Everybody looks at her like she's stupid, like she's missing something; but Chloe doesn't, so what does it matter? I wish she'd open her eyes.
Whatever.
"Fat Amy says we're in love."
Beca doesn't really know what to say to that. She doesn't feel for Chloe what she felt for Jesse – no, definitely not – but then again, she couldn't really say that she'd loved him. Not with certainty, no; she hadn't known what love was. What is love, anyway?
Oh – oh, wait!
"You reminded me how to be happy. Is that love?"
Chloe smiles at her, but Beca doesn't feel any different than she's ever felt at that. Warm and fuzzy and sickeningly girly, yes, but that isn't anything new. Maybe I was always in love with her.
"I think so."
Beca's never seen Chloe nervous before. Never before this instant, anyway; and despite how attractive her confidence is, nervousness suits her. It's cute; it's freaking adorable, really (wow, why hadn't she ever noticed that Chloe was so goddamn cute before?) and her kiss is too. Her kiss isn't a happy ending – not like Jesse's, no – not a new beginning, either. It's the promise that they'd never really spoken; the one they'd made each other when they first sang together way back when. The promise to love one another, show each other happiness, always – always – forever. So I'm in love with her.
Whatever.
A/N: OOMMMGGGGG, it took me way too long to find out this movie had a fanfiction page. (This ship is my otp at the moment and it hurts. It hurts how hard I ship it.) Excuse me while I post all my fancrap on here. /BOUNDLESS EXUBERANCE