This is what happens when you wake up to your itunes shuffle still playing and a pack of biscuits beside you. Carrie Underwood has a way of speaking to my inspiration at 7am.

I'm adding this here because I feel like making a ton of different stories for little things like this is a bit pointless, so I shall use this as a place to keep the little things :) Thank you so much for your lovely reviews and favourites and follows for the first one! I loved writing that one so I'm glad you all liked it :)

As a really quick clarification for that actually, Mollie was after Molly Ringwald from The Breakfast Club, and Billy was after Bill Conti who did the music for Rocky. I was supposed to add it at the end but I think I forgot, so oops!

I hope you guys enjoy this, even though it's a little sad, and please let me know what you think!

I TOLD YOU SO

The line is quiet for a minute after he finally answers on her fifth attempt. Neither of them know how to start. Neither of them want to start; they are stubborn and despite knowing the pain of their month apart, they will not break the silence first. Because Jesse is mad, he is furious, and Beca is embarrassed and unusually vulnerable. To combat this, she takes the position that she had made the effort to call, so it is his turn to try.

If he doesn't try, she knows it is over.

His breathing is shallow and even, just like when he sleeps. She wonders for a second if he has fallen asleep. If maybe he has answered accidentally, and that is actually why he is not talking. But it's not rational, and she knows it, because she can hear him pacing in the kitchen, like he does when he's trying to decide between two difficult options. But before, a little over a month ago, those difficult decisions had been what to cook her for dinner, or what tie to wear to his important meeting the next day.

Now, he is pacing because he's deciding on their future.

Beca hugs the pillow against her chest tighter, lying in her hotel bed in a fetal position. She hates this stupid hotel. She hates how appealing it had once been, with its large bed and beautiful furnishings and it's glorious view. The room is cosy but wrong. It's not home and it makes her heart ache.

She wants to go home. She wants to go back to Jesse.

Her aching heart misses him with everything she has. She is so far away, there are so many thousands of miles between them. She has made a mistake and learnt her lesson, and all she wants now is to be back in his strong arms and feel him stroke her hair and kiss her in that way that makes her dizzy.

Putting that into words is so hard though.

There is a reason, of course, as to why Beca will not talk. She is scared. She is terrified how things will turn out. If she starts talking, they will discuss her leaving. They will clash and it will be a huge disaster, and Beca can't have that. She'd rather be separated from him than lose him forever.

So she stays silent, because she can see how this is going to go.

"Jesse, I want to come back home."

He huffs and she can tell he has stopped pacing. "Do you now."

His voice is emotionless, sarcastic, and it makes her wince. This isn't her Jesse; her Jesse is full of bubbly emotions, full of smiles and easy retorts and cheesy movie lines. Where is her Jesse? That Jesse would know just what to say, would know just know to fix this. This is the downside, of course, to your best friend being your boyfriend (she cringes at the word, it feels too juvenile for what they are. Were. She isn't sure anymore.), in that when you argue with one, you do not have the other to lean on. She sniffs, her voice becoming quieter. "I… I don't want to be alone. Being away from you, it's too difficult."

He is quiet for a moment, and she imagines him falling into one of the kitchen stools, his head in his hands the way he always does when he is put in an awkward position. "Are you really serious right now?"

Beca curls up into a ball tighter; she feels at risk, like she's going to be broken any second. "Jesse, please."

"I told you this would happen. I told you taking that stupid job was a mistake."

"I thought it would-"

"No, Beca, you didn't think." His anger is building in his voice and she shrinks away from her phone. "You ran, because that's what you do. The slightest hint of more commitment and you're gone."

"I didn't run, I just thought this internship would be good for me! For us!"

"How is you being on the other side of the god damn country good for us?!" There's a slam of a fist on marble and she can hear it coming in his voice. She knows him so well, knows everything about him, but this tone is new. It's unfamiliar. Because he's never broken her heart before. "You're there because of your own selfish reasons. You didn't even consider me in your decision."

"Jesse." She is crying, and she knows he can hear it, but he doesn't soften. He doesn't try to comfort her.

"Beca I love you, but I can't do this anymore. I'm tired of being the only one to fight for us. This relationship is exhausting and I can't, I can't cope with all the heartache."

"Please, no-"

"Goodbye Beca."

She keeps quiet, because if she doesn't, that is what will happen. And goodbye is not an option for her.

So she lies there for an hour and listens to his breathing, her eyes closed, her mind imagining him there, the length of his body pressed to hers as he holds her, his thumb gently tracing where her ribs end, nose buried in her hair. She falls asleep in relative comfort for the first time in a month, letting his breathing soothe her and take away her deliberating thoughts.

A week passes and still neither of them speak. There are anxious phone calls from their friends, who have realised there is a bigger issue at foot than their usual Avoid-Fight-Kiss, and try (but fail) to patch things over. She learns snippets of how he is from Benjie, who claims Jesse is in a tailspin at work and needs her back, even if he won't actually admit it. Aubrey, who lives close by, says she saw him putting boxes out for charity. Beca wonders if he is serious enough to throw out all her stuff. Donald insists he wants to talk to her, that he wants her back, but all that does is make her realise that maybe he considers them over. He thinks they have broken up and she feels even more alone.

But it is Amy's comment that does it. Her life-altering observation is what makes her grab her already packed suitcase and head straight to the airport, catching the first available flight to New York City.

"I keep hearing some girl's voice in the background, and he always tells her to shush. Every time I call she's there, no matter what time of day."

And that is why she is standing outside their apartment building, on the other side of the street, looking up to the fourth floor where their kitchen window is. And she wants to move, she wants to run to him, but she is frozen in her spot.

Because there he is, a beer bottle in his hand, a smile on his face. He looks happy and she can't ignore the way her gut clenches, how it makes her want to pass out or curl up in a ball and die, because when he moves a woman appears. A beautiful woman. She's drinking wine and laughing, her hair long and falling across her face.

She wants to run. She wants to kill the bitch who's eyeing up her man. She wants to move in any way, but she can't, because she's stuck fast, unable to tear her eyes away.

And because he can feel her, because his eyes are tuned to always find her, he glances out of the window and sees Beca in her grey leather jacket, hand gripping her bright red suitcase, the rain beginning to pour and blend with her tears.

The bottle falls from his hand.

He doesn't notice. He's too transfixed at her standing there. Watching him watching her. She looks terrible, rumpled and exhausted, her face bare of its usual eyeliner. She knows she looks terrible and that this will make him worry (she knows he is angry and thinks he is moving on, but he is a worrier, and she knows he will worry at her sorry state). She knows he is confused, because how could he have expected to see her here?

She knows he is not surprised when she begins to run.

Beca supposes it should have been obvious where she was aiming, but she doesn't think about it. She just lets her legs take her away, away from the image of her boyfriend with another woman, away from the home they have shared for over a year, away from the perfect life she had before she screwed it up and flew away.

Aubrey lets her stay in the guest bedroom, and Beca doesn't move for two days. She lies on top of the sheets, her back to the door and her eyes trained on the grey clouds outside the window, trying to ignore the crushing, all-consuming pain of her heart being well and truly broken.

None of her faithful Bella's can fix her. Stacie brings ice cream and sad movies, but just seeing a disc makes her ache ten times worse. Chloe attempts to serenade her down the phone but music just makes her think of the reason she went to LA, the reason it all got so screwed up in the first place. Amy sends her videos of her teenage self wrestling strange animals. It's amusing but she doesn't even crack a smile.

She doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep, she doesn't do anything. Her life has been turned upside down and she doesn't know how to cope.

So she just lies there.

She becomes so accustomed to it, she doesn't hear the door squeak as it opens. She doesn't hear the whispers of concern. She doesn't hear the footsteps.

But she can feel him, because her entire being is tuned to know where he is, and so she closes her eyes and listens to his breathing. That breathing may be all she has left. She lets it wash over her, lets it soothe her oversensitive emotions, and does her best to commit it to memory.

When she finally opens her eyes, he's in front of her on his knees, his brown eyes full of anguish and pain. With a mind of its own, her hand shakily raises to touch his cheek, like she's checking he's actually there, that she isn't dreaming this or imagining him. He is really kneeling there, watching her, and when his own hand raises to capture hers and lace their fingers together, he is touching her and the emotional dam she has built to stop herself falling apart strains at the seams.

"I miss you," they whisper in unison.

He turns her hand over and presses a kiss to her palm, lowering it to lay over his heart. She feels its strong beat, feels his familiar warmth. It's comforting and agonising all at the same time.

"Come home," he pleads, his eyes earnest, his eyebrows raising in the middle, enhancing his pained expression.

Beca doesn't know what to say, so just lies there, watching him, trying to keep her emotions in check.

He doesn't find what he's looking for so he lets her hand go. It falls lifelessly onto the mattress and Jesse sighs, turning away, trying to figure out what to say.

"I spent my whole life before you on my own," she finds herself murmuring. He turns back to her, surprised, letting her finish. "I have never needed anyone else in my life until you. And now…"

She stops and his breathing hitches, watching her eyes glaze over. "And now?"

"I've never felt so alone, now I've lost you."

And she begins to cry, her damn broken, all pretenses gone, because he's spoilt her with his major part in her life, so major that she has forgotten how to live without him. He makes it worse by raising up on his knees and scooping her into his arms, bringing her to his chest, cradling Beca close as she falls apart.

"Oh Beca," he agonises. "You haven't lost me. I'm still here."

She can't get any words out, so she just continues to sob into his shoulder, his scent so familiar and soothing. But she can't help thinking about that woman's face, her beautiful hair, her easy smile. Has she smelt him this way? Has he held her close like this?

"I can't believe you think I'd… Freya is a work colleague, we're working together on a track for the movie we're assigned to."

Beca continues to avoid his gaze so Jesse pushes. "I'm yours Beca. Forever. Nothing will ever change that."

"You mean that?" She says tearfully, finally looking up at him. He smiles but it is not happy, he is concerned and sincere. His nod only confirms it and Beca realises her mistake.

She twists out of his grasp and kneels beside him so she is facing him. She has missed his eyes, his soft hair, his strong jaw, his smile and his adoring personality. She has missed everything about him.

"You're right. I took the sponsorship job because I got scared." She avoids his gaze, staring at her hands in her lap, watching as he takes them both and encloses them in his own. He is being gentle, cautious, trying not to spook her. He doesn't see that she hasn't got the energy to run anymore.

"And then you ignored my calls."

"I knew you'd be mad. I didn't exactly say goodbye." Beca recalls the note she left, cringing as she realises how much that must have hurt. It was terrible to do, it went against everything their relationship was based on, and she knew it. But she let her fear get the better of her, and she hates herself for it.

"I waited every day for you to come home. Any second, I thought, any second she'll come through that door." She finally looks up to see him looking away too, staring at the dent in the bed where she has spent the past two days. He doesn't seem angry and it surprises her, making her frown and drag his face back with her finger under his chin.

"You're the most incredible man I've ever met," she says through her surprise, thinking aloud, "Probably the most incredible man that's ever existed. How on earth did you fall for a disgrace like me?"

"You are anything but a disgrace Beca." He smiles, just a curving on side of his mouth, but it's a smile. "You are crazy and unpredictable and my god do you infuriate me sometimes." His smile grows and Beca can't help but smile back, because he's right. "But you are perfect for me. You are everything I need and yes, I was furious at you going to LA… But I love you far more than that anger."

Beca wipes a tear away and nods, because he is just so perfect for her, and he's so good and pure and amazing.

"I knew you'd come home to me Beca. Because I know that you love me too and that's far more powerful than your instinct to run."

Beca doesn't know what she did to deserve this incredible man, but suddenly her five years as his girlfriend don't seem enough. Five years should feel like an age but it doesn't; it feels too short and too fleeting. She needs more, she needs him by her side, she needs forever. There's no amount of time in the world that could ever amount to how long she wants to be with him, needs to be with him, because he is essential to her survival. Without Jesse, she is nothing. She is just a shell of person, because everything good, everything important and special about her, is from him. He is truly her better half, and she loves him with her whole being.

"Ask me again."

It's said through a breath and barely audible, but Jesse doesn't need her to repeat it. Her eyes are clear, and she is perfectly serious, waiting expectantly. He grins as he exhales and watches as she raises herself up, her weight on her knees as he sits back on his feet.

He grabs her hands and kisses her empty ring finger lovingly.

"Beca Mitchell, will you marry me?"

She answers very simply by letting go of his hands, grabbing his face, and pulling him up to her height, crashing her lips to his in a blissful kiss.

As they break away he rests his forehead against hers, smiles spread across both of their faces with her hands in his hair and his arms around her tightly.

"You know our marriage is basically just a legal agreement to continue your movication for the rest of your life right?" he jokes, his thumb running across her ribs in that way she loves so much.

But Beca just laughs, because she's too happy to come up with a retort, and honestly, if being subjected to watching movies with Jesse for the rest of her life is what their marriage will entail, well, she doesn't think she'll mind that all. Because they make him happy, and he makes her happy, and that's all that really matters.

Forever may not be long enough for her, but she'll take it, as long as they're together.

I don't know if I got Beca right in this one, it was a bit more difficult to do, because it's about break ups and so she's not going to be her usual self. I tried not to make her hideously cheesy so I hope I did okay for you guys! Please let me know what you thought!

The next one shot is probably going to be based around the pink fluffy handcuffs, since they are now an apparent signature of mine (I had many reviewers of Killing Me Softly insist it was needed and honestly, finding a way to include them is always very amusing). Though maybe not. I'm not sure. Okay shushing now.