A/N: I'm going to stop apologising for late chapters now because it becomes sort of pointless when it's at the beginning of every

chapter, but I present to you chapter ten of this trashy angst fest ft. fluff.

Also, please do not fret: Chloe's utterance of the three little words will be addressed in the next chapter — I just wanted to have a nice, fluffy, (for the most part) drama-free chapter.

P.S. can we just pretend that Nick hung up the phone at the end cause I didn't want to end it with Beca hanging up.

It's not like she hasn't said it to you before.

Of course she has — you are best friends, after all. But now — now it feels different. It is different. You know this because all of the other times Chloe has whispered these adoring words to you, she's always been confident; casual. Carefree, almost. Like the words didn't affect her in the slightest.

But now? Now, she is practically trembling in your arms, and you can see the indicators of fresh tears pooling in her baby blue eyes. She looks down, as if in shame, and refuses to meet your eyes. You know that you're frozen right now; rigid, but you want — need — to scoop her up into your arms and comfort her.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, like she can't even muster up enough strength to speak normally anymore. Your heart breaks. "I'm so sorry, Beca."

"No," you say, and you hope that your attempt at a soothing tone works out. "No, it's okay. It's okay. Please don't cry."

"I'm sorry," she says, her voice wavering, and you watch as tears spill down her porcelain cheeks. "I didn't mean to …"

"It's okay," you repeat, desperately hoping that if you say it enough times it'll become true. "It's okay, Chloe. Calm down."

"We can forget this ever happened," she says. "I won't say it again, I promise. Just … please don't run away again," she begs.

"Chloe," you start, keeping your voice gentle so as not to set her off even more. "I don't want you to … hold back how you feel. That isn't fair on you."

"But if I tell you I love you, you'll leave me again," she says, and in that moment you can just see how much you've hurt her.

You take her chin in your hand and look into her eyes, seeing the way the tears swirl around the beautiful blue and make them darker. She looks so effortlessly beautiful even now — crying and having just woken up — and you're so genuinely mesmerised by her. She's a true work of art and you'd allow yourself to get lost in her any day.

"Chloe," you say. "God, Chloe — I could never leave you. Not really, anyway. I mean … I could try. I have tried. But I can't escape you."

She sniffs. "You say that like you want to."

You look down at her — this beautiful, fragile mess of a human being — and your hearts thumps away in your chest at an irregular pace because you don't know how to tell her that you wish you could escape her. She looks so small in this moment — lip curled into a frown; hands shaking; eyes swimming with tears — and you know that even though every space inside of you aches for her, that maybe you would want a life without her, given the chance.

(You imagine a life without Chloe Beale sometimes, though, and when you do, you can feel part of you deteriorating quickly.

Because a life without Chloe Beale is also a life without laughter, and love, and sunshine, and happiness.)

"Never," you whisper, pressing a lasting kiss to her forehead.

She seems content with this for a while — just lying in your arms silently — before she clears her throat and asks in a small voice:

"Do you feel the same way about me?"

Your heart is in your fucking mouth and you can't breathe. But — "You know I do."

The text comes a little after two o'clock.

You're sprawled out across the sofa, sneaking occasional glances at Aubrey and Stacie who are currently curled up on the sofa on the other side of the room — Stacie keeps leaving tender kisses up and down the column of Aubrey's throat, as if she's going to have forgotten about her within a few moments, and there is something so truly beautiful about the way that Aubrey will almost always blush and tilt her head down, whispering a few words into Stacie's ear, kissing the spot just below the lobe a few times to punctuate whatever it is that she says, and it makes you want to well up — when your phone chimes from the coffee table.

Warren Mitchell [14:07]

I see you've made your decision. [1 Attachment]

You open the attachment — a photo — and are shocked to see it's a photograph of someone's back. And, of course, not just any someone — it's Chloe. You know this by the way her auburn curls cascade down her back elegantly, and you smile a little without even realising it when you see her.

(You're a sucker for Chloe Beale, what can you say?)

You don't really understand what your dad is getting at until it clicks in your mind; the hoodie Chloe is wearing is undeniably yours. It's a dark, forest green but it's faded now from use, and you recognise it as the Leavers hoodie that the Head Boy and Girl in your senior year had made. On the front, there's your high school's logo on it, but that is hidden from the camera.

What you can see, however, are the words emblazoned on the back: Beca effin' Mitchell. It's printed in large white letters; unmissable. While your heart swells with pride at the sight of Chloe in your hoodie — some primal, possessive part of you smiles at how utterly yours she looks — you know that you're in for it now.

Beca [14:09]

Fuck you. You can't make me choose between my best friend and my sister.

Warren Mitchell [14:10]

I didn't think it /was/ a choice, Beca. I thought that it would be a no-brainer.

Warren Mitchell [14:10]

Apparently not.

Beca [14:15]

Listen, asshole, Chloe and Erin are two totally different people who I have two totally different relationships with. They don't overlap in the slightest. I have only ever talked to Chloe about Erin ONCE and I have never in my life talked to Erin about Chloe apart from brief mentions whenever ERIN brings her up. Chloe isn't talking to Erin about liking girls, or about what it means to be gay. The most intellectual conversation Chloe will ever have with her is whether or not cats are better than dogs. Erin isn't even AWARE that Chloe is pansexual, so shut the fuck up about her "influencing" Erin or whatever shit because you know that isn't true. I'm not sure how you think she's going to influence a fucking FOUR YEAR OLD to want to fuck girls but if you do, maybe you're the one that needs help and not Chloe. So fuck off because you cannot stop me from seeing my little sister just because I happen to have a friend she met once who just happens to be attracted to women.

Warren Mitchell [14:15]

Chloe clearly does possess the ability to influence people sexually seeing as once upon a time you were a good girl with morals and now you're going down the disgusting path of homosexuality.

You swallow the lump in your throat and blink furiously at the words on the screen. You spare another glance at Aubrey and Stacie, who are currently in the middle of a gentle kiss. Aubrey is cradling Stacie's jaw like she holds her hold world in her hand, and you wonder how in God's name anything this beautiful could ever be considered anything but that.

Beca [14:17]

I don't know what century you're living in but borrowing your best friend's clothes doesn't suddenly mean that you're gay for each other. It's a girl thing - get the fuck over it.

Stacie kicks you out of the living room sometime around when she starts groping Aubrey under her shirt rather than over it and you outwardly wince when you hear a noise coming from Aubrey that you certainly could have gone your whole life without ever needing to hear. You're banished to your bedroom for "however long it takes for two super hot people to have super hot sex on a super uncomfortable couch."

That had sent you running up to your bedroom quickly enough. You flop down onto your bed, playing a mindless game on your phone that you'd really only downloaded to appease Chloe. You play that, check your social media and read a couple of chapters of a book your mom recommended until your phone starts vibrating in your hand. Nick Mitchell.

You breathe a sigh of relief and hit the green button with your thumb, bringing the phone up to your ear.

"Hey," you say, glad for the distraction from your boredom.

"Hey," your brother greets, his voice coming out a little tinny due to the bad connection.

"What's up?"

"Nothing," he says. "I just wanted to … call to check up on how you're doing, 'cause the last time we spoke you were sorta … all over the place about this whole Chloe thing."

"Oh," you say nervously. "Um. About that — I sorta … worked that out. Ish. I mean … not really, but … Well, there have been … developments, on that front. I guess."

"Listen, Bec, I know I'm your brother and all, so I should have some sort of deeper connection with you or something — and don't get me wrong, I like to think that I do — but none of what you just said made any sense. At all."

"I just, um … I kissed Chloe."

"What?" he squawks, and it's almost funny because you can just see his expression in your head — the way his eyes must be bulging out of their sockets.

"Yeah," you confirm. "And then I tried to deny it and I ran away but she confronted me, and we were gonna forget about it but then when we were playing truth or dare someone asked me who I last kissed and I ended up having a panic attack, and then Chloe was mad and I was apologetic and we ended up making out on her bed, but I freaked out and ran to Jesse, who ended up seeing a hickey Chloe left me and then broke up with me, and then I came home and Chloe like, cuddled me to sleep or some shit, and then this morning we were like, being super … coupley. And she told me she loves me," you spill, hardly taking a breath between your first and last words.

"Well, did you say it back?" he asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

"What?" you ask, eyes widening. "Dude, no!"

"Well, why not?"

"Because I don't — because I can't — shut up!"

"Oh, my God, you sooo love her," Nick drawls, a laugh quickly following.

"Shut up," you growl. "I do not love her. I mean … she's my best friend; of course I love her. But like that? No. It's not … it's too soon, okay?"

"Dude, you love her. You totally love her. Sack up and admit it."

"Oh, my God, give it up."

Just then, your hear the familiar sound of a giggle echoing through the halls and a few seconds later, the door is pushed open to reveal Chloe. Her cheeks are slightly flushed and her hair is messier than it was this morning, and God, she's beautiful.

"Hey, Becs," she says, grinning at you.

"Hey," you say quietly, almost breathless at the sight of her.

"Bec?" you hear, but your brother's voice is mostly white noise to you now.

"Who're you talking to?" she asks, eyes wide with curiosity.

"Um … my — my brother. He's … hey."

She giggles and drops down onto your bed. "You doing okay over there, Becs?" she asks, a teasing glint in her eye.

"Yeah, I just … Beautiful. You're — you're beautiful."

You watch as she looks down at your mouth and inches forward a little before hesitating and stilling herself. You think about ignoring it before you look at her lips, slightly parted and devastatingly full, and you feel the burning in the pit of your belly that needs her touch.

"It's okay," you whisper. "You can kiss me."

You've dropped your phone by now, and Nick's confused calls can be heard distantly from the device, but you're not paying attention. Chloe's smile widens and she nervously moves towards you, line of sight never once leaving your lips.

And when they meet, you see fire.