You guys I did it! I finished this! This is the final chapter and I'm both thrilled that I managed to get this far, but also saddened that it has to end. But hey! I think it all ends on a nice note, and nobody will be left disappointed. I am so thankful to all of you for your support on my first big publication. Your reviews, favorites/follows, and kudos have put a smile on my face every time I got the emails for them, and they pushed me to keep writing. If anyone has a request, or a prompt or anything, even if you just want to talk, please don't hesitate to approach me.

A very special shout-out to my beta, once again, because I give her such a hard time during all hours of the day regardless of the 9 hour time difference, but she gives me nothing but support an encouragement in return. And another super special shout-out to a friend who was the sole reason and the main advocate for me to publish my writing. I am truly blessed with great friends.

Oh, and to the guest that wanted something with Chloe's brother, I'm sorry but I couldn't figure out how to fit that in here. But if you leave me a more detailed prompt in the comments or my inbox, then I will certainly try my best to write you something. Again, my deepest apologies.

Without further stalling, I present the final chapter! Read on and enjoy!


Chloe doesn't believe in personal space, that's just her thing.

Beca is resigned to this fact, and the fact that privacy isn't really something she can have, especially since moving into a house with ten other girls – the brunette has seen more than her share of boobs, and other more traumatizing things.

This is why she may have (definitely) subtly started wearing nicer underwear, for those times when Chloe barges in unannounced (which is pretty often, Beca notes delightfully).

(She's also almost convinced Chloe has some kind of internal sensor that alerts her to the fact that Beca is getting naked).

This is why Beca doesn't bat an eyelash when the redhead not only breezes into her room with the announcement that the Bellas are having an impromptu karaoke night (which Beca knows is actually code for booze. Lots and lots of booze) as she proceeds to make herself comfortable on Beca's bed, pulling Beca's laptop and headphones (a Christmas present from Chloe herself) closer with the excuse that they need a playlist to jam to (which is also code for snooping around Beca's laptop so she can find and listen to Beca's latest creations, finished and unfinished).

The brunette rolls her eyes when Chloe starts whining, drawing out her words – much like a child asking "are we there yet?" during an infuriatingly long road trip – because Beca has zero organization skills beyond properly labeling her tracks and now Chloe can't find her latest mixes.

So Beca drops what she's doing – which just so happens to be pulling on a shirt – and leans over Chloe to open the files for her.

Chloe – never one to shy away from a chance to admire beautiful people, especially if it's Beca – permits her eyes to roam along Beca's exposed skin, shamelessly taking her time and not bothering with being subtle about it either.

Beca smirks, Chloe's attention thrilling her today.

"See something you like, Red?"

"I do, actually. Very much so, are you wearing Victoria's Secret lingerie?"

The faint (and totally un-badass) pink flush that spreads along Beca's flesh makes her regret not putting on her shirt first.

Chloe smirks triumphantly at the reaction, effectively letting Beca know that she's won this round of flirty banter.

Beca mentally vows to get back at her soon.

(In reality, Beca's so, so okay with losing if that means she'll see that mischievous twinkle in Chloe's eyes more often).

The brunette barely straightens up – rolling her eyes as Amy's Australian accented-words float up the stairs, demanding that "Strawberry Shortcake stop making out like dingoes in heat and come down with the music already" – and is walking around the bed again when Chloe's hand reaches out and traps the younger Bella's wrist between her fingers, Beca's nerve endings heating up like billions of tiny suns sewn into the very fabric of her being.

Beca idly wonders how it's possible that Chloe doesn't feel her rising body temperature.

The Bella captain is turned around, and she looks on in confusion as she waits for Chloe to say something, or at the very least look at her. But something in the middle and to the side – around Beca's ribcage, the brunette notices – has caught her fellow captain's eyes.

Beca's brain slows down because holy shit, Chloe's fingers are running along the bare sensitive skin of Beca's ribcage. The brunette's confident her body temperature is so high that she must be giving Chloe third degree burns just by standing this close to the ginger.

A soft, almost nostalgic smile blooms on Chloe's face, and all it does is cause Beca's breathing to become even more embarrassingly labored under the redhead's touch.

(She's losing 'badass' points, she knows, but she's never cared about any of that when Chloe's touching her).

Chloe speaks up, her voice acting like a magnet as it draws Beca's scattered thoughts together, and piecing the brunette's brain back together like a jigsaw puzzle.

"Is this new? I've never seen it before."

Chloe's question grounds Beca's senses, and she feels the ginger's fingertip tracing something on her ribcage – letters – and Beca realizes what Chloe's talking about.

Beca finds that she needs to clear her throat before speaking thanks to Chloe's blazing touch.

"Yeah, it kinda just happened over the break when I went to visit Mom. I went to say hi to Joshua and to catch up while I was still in town. Next thing I know, I'm shirtless and on my back."

It takes Beca a minute to comprehend what she's said and why Chloe's looking at her with too much amusement, the redhead's raised brow and shameless smirk slapping some sense into Beca, who just rolls her eyes in embarrassment and earns herself a snort from Chloe.

"You know what I mean, Red. Get your mind out of the gutter it seems to always be living in."

"I can't help it, Becs. I'm talking to a hot, half-naked girl who is telling me all about being shirtless and on her back. The imagery is too good to pass up on even if I wanted to."

Beca just rolls her eyes again because Chloe's using that faux innocent voice and fluttering her lashes at a faster speed than usual, and now all Beca is wondering is how long such an act would last in a more intimate setting.

Beca's brought out of her own gutter by Chloe's fingers resuming their heated motion along her skin, and the redhead's slightly worried voice.

"Did it hurt?"

The brunette snorts, quite unlady-like, before replying.

"Like you wouldn't believe. I bit the insides of my mouth so hard I drew blood. A lot. The inside of my cheek is still bumpy and scarred. Almost passed out a couple of times too."

Much to Beca's surprise, Chloe looks deeply troubled at this, her brows furrowing so deeply that the line between them forms an angry '11'. The concern slips into Chloe's touch too because her hand is now splayed on the brunette's ribcage, her thumb brushing back and forth in a gentle and soothing motion, almost like she's trying to sweep and brush the pain of the already completed tattoo away.

The ginger's voice, however, contrasts so sharply with her sweet touch as the hints of reprimand and faint touch of anger lacing it make Beca feel like a kid caught opening her Christmas presents early.

"Then why would you do this to yourself? Are you still trying to prove something to your parents? Because let me tell you, Beca, that's just immature of you."

Beca's suddenly feeling defensive, so she bats Chloe's hand away (way too harshly, she realizes belatedly when Chloe's usually bright eyes darken with hurt), but there's no taking her action back now so she might as well keep going down this path, right? Right.

(The brunette rolls her eyes at herself. She thinks she should have learned by now.)

She's taken a step back and is looking for her shirt when she speaks up, "I'm a big girl, Chloe, and I can do whatever I please. Not to mention that I don't have to prove anything to anyone, least of all my parents. Now if you don't mind, I need to change."

The dismissal is clear in Beca's voice, and Chloe closes her eyes for a moment as she berates herself for overreacting, her words having obviously hurt Beca.

She opens her eyes just in time to see Beca – still fiddling with the shirt she picked up – start heading to the door, presumably to open it for her as a sign for her to leave. Chloe's only got a second to react before Beca's out of reach so she doesn't even bother to think as her finger hooks into Beca's jeans' belt loop, turning the brunette back to face her, and tugging her gently back towards the edge of the bed she's perched on, stopping the brunette and fitting her between her legs.

Chloe's apologetic as she fiddles with the hem of her shirt, acutely aware that Beca still doesn't have a shirt to play with herself.

"That's not how I meant it, Becs, I'm sorry. I just don't like the idea of you being in that kinda pain, especially if you can avoid it."

Beca's heart expands. Or her chest is collapsing, she can't decide because either way her insides feel painfully tight. She's panicking; Chloe looks so worried about her, and she looks upset with herself for upsetting Beca.

She had hoped beyond hope that she'd never have to explain this particular tattoo. But the closer Chloe looks to crying, the faster Beca's resolve crumbles.

There's no denying it now; Beca Mitchell is irrevocably and unapologetically in love with her best friend, Chloe Beale.

Denying this fact to others has exhausted Beca, but nothing has tired Beca out like denying her feelings to herself.

Now, however, she sees no other choice except admit things to not only herself, but to Chloe as well.

If she's being honest with herself, Beca's glad she's being forced to do this; they're graduating soon, and Beca doesn't want to have any more regrets than she already does.

Might as well go out with a bang, right?

Throwing caution to the wind, Beca takes a deep breath and allows her fingers to find their way into Chloe's hair, intimately brushing her thumb along Chloe's cheek as it passes her skin into her hair.

Chloe's eyes widen as she looks up at Beca, the brunette's breath catching in her throat because those eyes are so, so blue.

Chloe watches Beca take another deep inhale, wondering why the younger Bella looks so scared. Why does her smile look sad?

"I did this for you, Chlo."

Everything in the redhead's throat and lungs seems to slow and stop, all the air within her body trapped, the oxygen neither flowing further into her body, nor being allowed release through her parted mouth. Her head was spinning and Chloe was sure that if she doesn't remember how inhaling and exhaling works soon, something bad will happen. She swears the edges of her vision are blurring already.

Is she saying what I think she's saying…?

So while the ginger dumbly stares back for a few more seconds before dropping her gaze back to the neat and simple black letters needled into Beca's flesh, the brunette smiles fondly, albeit sadly, before forging ahead with her explanation.

"God, Chlo, I was just the sarcastic, hostile "alt girl", forced to attend university and have a relationship with my estranged father and his new wife. I was the weirdo that didn't have nor want friends, but then you barged into my shower and forced me to sing your "lady jam" for you.

Of course, your lack of boundaries and your-" Beca pauses, smirking as she lets her eyes roam for a moment before continuing, "confidence about all this, led to me getting into the Bellas, and dear God almighty those months were torture."

Chloe's body feels hot as she keeps her eyes on Beca, internally thrilled at the way the brunette looks her over, Beca's smirk making Chloe's insides coil dangerously tight it's almost painful. She can't help but roll her eyes affectionately at Beca's dramatics regarding their first year as Bellas together.

"Aubrey was a nightmare, the cardio was bleeping murder, and the fact that I was doing Acapella had me feeling like I was going to barf. All. The. Time."

The redhead's smile is exasperated but she keeps silent because she knows Beca's right, and nothing she says will change that.

"But I had you, and your pushing linked me to the Bellas and before I knew it, I had not only one friend – I had ten of the weirdest, most awesome group of girls I had ever met. And I couldn't have been happier.

Acapella was actually starting to grow on me, the cardio was more bearable, and Bree wasn't a pain in the ass anymore. Not much anyway. Life was – is – good.

And yeah, the whole thing with Jesse happened too, and I owe that to you too."

Chloe's enjoying this conversation up until Beca says that, and it shows on her face as her smile falters. The brunette hurries to elaborate.

"You made me join the Bellas, and that made me see Jesse and spend more time with him aside from at the radio station. And sure, we dated briefly then broke up soon after because it just didn't feel right, but I made another friend. A really good one, and I'm grateful for that.

Plus, him spending so much time around us helped him and Aubrey get together which in turn made Bree more relaxed, so really, I'm actually thanking you for saving the world from Satan."

Chloe laughs, halfheartedly poking Beca's side because Aubrey is still, after all, one of her best friends.

Beca's smile is brief, and watching it slip from her face causes the redhead to sober up, looking back up into Beca's eyes, cautiously optimistic about where this was all heading.

"I've spent the best four years of my life here, even if I am loathe to admit it, but it's true. The Bellas have been a big part of that, and I felt like I needed to honor that."

Taking another deep breath, Beca permits her fingers to softly massage the redhead's hair, relishing in the feel of the strands between her fingers, the way that Chloe's breathing catches as she keeps looking at her.

The brunette sees hope in the blue orbs she adores, and this gives her courage to keep talking.

"But if I'm being honest here, it was you – it has always been you, all along. Had it not been for you slipping past all my defenses, and bulldozing your way into my life – shower first – my life would not have been what it is now. I would have been miserable, I know that now."

Chloe's eyes fill up, the shine of her tears only adding to the brilliance of the blue orbs.

She's saying what I think she is…

So Beca smiles, and wipes a stray tear off of Chloe's cheek as it falls before talking again, the familiar sarcastic tone music to Chloe's ears as the redhead's hands grip Beca's waist.

"I can spend the rest of my life – and I will, if you let me, but only in private or Aubrey will never let me hear the end of it – waxing poetic about your laugh and how everyone and everything else in the area is white noise as soon as I hear it. How things are always just a little blurry around the edges when you're not around, and the world is always just a little blander and lacking the shiny coat that dusts colorful things until you're back, and then everything is rushing back into a new kind of hyper reality that leaves me feeling like I've just gotten off of a rollercoaster. And I'm always in line for the next ride."

Beca's taken hold of Chloe's hand, using the ginger's fingers to trace the letters.

T

I

"I can take your ear off talking about how blindingly glowing your smile is, and how every time I see it I need to stop and catch my breath because it's humbling to see how easy it is for you to paint smiles on the faces of everyone in the room, even the grouchiest "alt girl" in the dark back corner."

Chloe's tears are falling faster, Beca catching each drop without haste, their entwined hands still moving languidly along her bare skin.

T

A

"I would need an eternity to describe how utterly satisfying it is to drown in your eyes. The way they light up when you're happy, like a calm summer day at sea. The way they cloud mysteriously, like a foggy night in the middle of the vastest sea, when you're up to mischief, accompanied by the slightest of upturns of your lips, leaves me giddy with the notion of endless possibilities. And God help me, but when they darken with passion I find myself surrendering to the storming ocean, eager to brave the roiling waves and hope that they crash over me with even the smallest sliver of the passion I see in your eyes."

Chloe's barely holding back her sobs, but Beca's looking at her with so much love that the ginger wonders if that was always there, and she was just too oblivious to see it.

N

I

"But it's your soul that has me falling uncontrollably in love with you. Any soul that has come to know yours is a better one for it. You are inspiring, and hopeful, and everything that is good and beautiful in the world. You are radiant, Chloe, beyond measure."

The redhead is a mess by this point, and Beca's got tears in her own eyes too. But their hands don't stop, tracing the final two letters.

U

M

Chloe's fingers linger, and Beca lets them as she leans down, placing her own lingering kiss on the redhead's forehead, smiling as she feels Chloe's grip tighten on her middle and her breath catch on a sob. The brunette's only got one other thing to say, and she's unwilling to move away from Chloe's skin just yet, so she's more than okay if it comes across muffled by Chloe's hairline.

"You changed my life forever with one song, Red. You turned my life into one giant medley."

The redhead decides that she can't take it anymore and lifts one hand away from Beca's bare middle, tangling it in her hair and tugging the younger woman down.

Their kiss is all passion and raw emotion, with a definitive lack of hesitation. As Chloe's lips move steadily, almost desperately, against her lips, Beca's never been more sure of anything in her life; nobody else's lips will ever fit hers as perfectly as Chloe's Beale's do.

And as the cheers of their eavesdropping Bellas – who only came up to see what was taking so long, honest! – finally break through the haze, and Beca faintly registers the flash of a camera and confetti raining down on them – presumably Fat Amy's doing – while Stacie gleefully yells out that "Bechloe is finally canon!", the brunette makes a note to herself as she pulls back, breathing labored and smile face-splitting;

She never wants to know the touch of another's lips again.