Experimentation

by Redlance-ck

So, about that one little regret…

14. Chapter 14

A/N: So. It's been a little while. I'm alive and well after my three busy weeks entertaining company and have returned with an extra long update, just to thank you guys for sticking it out. ;) Hopefully it'll be worth the wait! Huge thank you to Max again for continuing to put up with my shit. You sir, are a saint.

---

Beca watches the town drift by outside the window, idly making note of places she's visited and places she hasn't. Places she won't probably won't. Because even though she's sticking around to finish up her internship, without the rest of the Bellas to forcibly drag her into any of them, it's probably going to be a life of work, Taco Bell and sleep taking up her immediate future. Which means 'Kicks For Chicks' will likely never feel the presence of Beca Mitchell within its walls. And that's just fine by her.

What isn't fine, is the way Jesse has been stealing glances at her since they backed out of the driveway ten minutes ago. She refuses to look at him, instead keeping her gaze focused on the blurred streets they're flying by, but eventually feels herself relenting. She twists her mouth to the side.

"Can you please keep your eyes on the road?" Jesse lets out the biggest sigh of relief she's ever heard and it's enough to finally make her turn to him.

"Oh thank god," he's gasping like a newly revived fish, "I'm not dead or invisible!" She stares at him, hard, and blinks slowly as he takes one hand from the wheel and pats across his chest, then his face. "I'm alive! I'm real!" Then he reaches over to pat her face too, dropping his voice to an awed whisper. "We're both real." She slaps at his hand until he takes it back, laughing like she isn't wishing death upon him with the power of her glare alone. She huffs.

"I can not believe we dated." He turns his attention back to the road with a smirk that lifts the hair on the back of her neck.

"After seeing what you did to Chloe's neck, neither can I." It had only been a matter of time, she'd known that before getting into the car with him. She'd just been hoping he would forget or take her silence as a some kind of sign. "Now," he tilts his head to the side and draws a circle in the air beside his neck, "were you patterning it after something specific or was this a Mitchell original design?"

"Okay." She says, all airy snark. "You can just pull over. I think I can walk back from here." He flicks on the indicator, pulling up close to the curb and Beca can't quite mask her surprise. "Wait, what?"

"You know what I think?" He's smirking again. She bites her teeth together, inhaling with a hiss of feigned remorse.

"Yeah, I don't care."

"I think," but she'd known that wouldn't stop him, "that, subconsciously, you actually want to talk about this." She cocks her head like a spaniel.

"And I think you've finally inhaled too much fog from Benji's smoke machine." He shuts the car off and unbuckles his seatbelt, twisting to face her. She eyes him, warily.

"Hear me out." Her groan of annoyance is ignored and she leans back in her seat, looking up at the roof of the car as she hears the faintly ticking cogs of his brain beginning to formulate sentences. "You and I both know that if you don't want to talk about something, you don't. But you're not even trying to deny this, Bec. Literally all you needed to say was," he takes it upon himself to adopt the kind of voice that belongs in a cheesy ninety's movie about Californian teenagers, "Oh my god, Jesse! Stop being such a creep. Like, I totally didn't have anything to do with Chloe's hickeys!" The rush of murderous annoyance that sweeps through her must show on her face because he's cringing away from her with a sheepish smile and then stepping out of the car, voice back to normal. "I'm just saying."

Where are you going?" Beca manages to get out before the door closes and then he bends down to meet her gaze through the driver side window. He points through the car and Beca turns her head to see that he's parked outside of the coffee shop he'd liked to take her to while they were dating. "Oh." She fumbles with the door handle before getting it open and steps out onto the curb. Jesse's there holding a hand out for her but he's still smiling, so she bats it away. He pouts, pulling his hand into his chest.

"Will you stop doing that? I get it, okay?" He hits the button on the fob that locks the car and slides the keys into his pocket. "You don't want me touching the things that belong to you. Message received." He holds the door open for her but Beca turns on him, poking a threatening finger hard into his sternum and driving him back against the brick wall of the entryway.

"Enough." She bites out, glaring up at him. "Or I'll spill scalding coffee into your lap and make it look like an accident." He tries to tamp down the edges of his smile but only manages minuscule success. She pivots away from him with what sounds a lot like a growl and heads inside.

Beca doesn't really do coffee, she's never been a fan. Jesse hadn't known that during their inaugural visit to Barden's Beanhouse – or B.B.'s, as the 'cool kids' liked to call it – but once she'd told him, and then insisted it was fine because he looked like he might cry over his poor choice, he had ordered her a frothy frosty drink that, according to him, tastes exactly like the vanilla bean frappuccino at Starbucks. Beca had no idea what that meant though, she still doesn't. The only time she ever steps foot inside a Starbucks is when she's with either Chloe or Stacie, and Chloe orders a caramel macchiato – with an extra shot of caramel because "a girl can never be too sweet, Becs" - every time without fail. She can't be sure Jesse hasn't just fabricated the whole thing in order to get her to drink the concoction. She doesn't protest though, when he orders their usual and slaps a note down onto the counter.

"You want something to eat?" He asks over his shoulder as Beca slides into a booth by the large, curtained window at the front of the store. The interior is pretty small, all exposed brick and plush seating that's dimly lit to give a cosy feel.

"I'm good, thanks." He shrugs and adds a little jam filled pastry to the order. Lifting a short ways off the seat, Beca pulls her phone out from where it's digging into her backside and lies it face up on the table, pressing the lock button to check the time. There's still a few hours before rehearsal. She sighs and lifts a hand to rub at her neck, unconsciously swiping her palm over her own rapidly-fading hickeys. She's still feeling the after affects of Chloe's earlier appearance. The stunned shock at seeing the marks she'd made sitting there, as bold and brash as when she'd made them. She has no idea what Chloe's thinking, what kind of new game this is, but it's crazy and someone is going to end up embarrassed. And she knows that someone is her because it's always here and the embarrassment has already started.

"You know," Jesse says, sliding in across from her and handing her her drink before letting the brown paper bag he's got snared between his teeth drop into his hand, "you should probably learn to start loving the real stuff." He taps the plastic lid of the 'to go' cup his drink is in, steam slowly rising out from the mouth slot. "Now that you're going to be a super famous music producer, I mean." She rolls her eyes at him and sucks a mouthful of her drink up through a Barden-green straw.

"I'm hoping I can make early morning crabbiness kind of my signature 'thing'." She says with a narrow-eyed blink and Jesse hums thoughtfully as he takes a small sip of his drink, smiling around the lip.

"You do rock the grouchy look." She flashes him a grin and shimmies her shoulders a bit, like she knows. He reaches into the bag and pulls out his snack, flaky bits of the pastry crumbling onto the table top as he bites off a chunk. There's silence for a short while and Beca can feel his good behaviour wearing thin, his patience fraying. She continues sipping her drink, biding her time until he asks and she can throw him an appropriate glower. His fingers tap an anxious rhythm against the side of his cup and Beca's eyes flick back and forth between them and the underside of his chin. She won't actually look at him, because he'll take that as the kind of invitation that it isn't. "So," but as it turns out, "you and Chloe." He doesn't actually need an invitation. "That's still..." He lets the sentence hang long enough that she finally does look up at him, a sense of mild exasperation rising in her ever expression eyebrows. "A thing?" She shrugs non-committally and tightens her hands around the transparent plastic cup that's three quarters filled with icy, sugary goodness.

"It's not not a thing." Jesse ducks his head a bit and gives her what she assumes is as close to a glare as he can manage. It isn't very effective. Jesse couldn't scare a fly off shit.

"And how's that working for you? Because I saw how well it's working for her." She rolls her eyes.

"Can you drop it?" He laughs, but holds his hands up as a plea for peace.

"In sorry! I'm just surprised." At Beca's arched eyebrow, Jesse elaborates. "Well," he clears his throat and takes a sip of his coffee, "I don't recall you really being into that when we..." he trails off, gesturing between them and wiggling his own eyebrows. "Is it like, is that something Chloe asked you to do or...?" Beca rolls her lips together and holds the expression for a few beats, eyeing him like she's either going to punch him or ignore his line of questioning completely.

And it would be easy to do any one of those. The kind of easy that requires no thinking what so ever.

"No." She admits, looking down as she stirs the thick drink with her straw. "I mean, not like, not directly?" Her hands disappear beneath the table and he can tell from the way her shoulders hunch that she's nervously rubbing the palms together. "I was sort of..." one hand appears again and she points a finger to her neck, waving it back and forth along the side, "in the area? And one thing led to another." This whole time she hasn't been looking at him, but she does now. Searching his face, waiting to see what his response will be. His mouth splits into a grin.

"You know that's what they all say, right? 'One thing led to another' and then bam." Beca makes the mistake of taking a drink from her straw as he speaks. "You're pregnant." And it almost results in what Jesse would refer to a 'spit take', but she manages to keep the liquid inside of her mouth. Just barely.

"Yeah, um," she wipes her thumb across her bottom lip to catch the thin smear of dribbled drink, "weirdly? Not worried about that."

"Is that because you don't think you'll get to that place or because when you do, you'll use protection?" She shifts uncomfortably at the question and throws him another glare.

"I told you, you're not getting all the dirty details." He wiggles his eyebrows at her wording, then smiles.

"And I told you that I'm not looking for any." He lifts his cup to his mouth, taking a longer pull this time. "I'm just... here." She really hates it when he throws on that expression of sincere niceness. Because it usually makes her open up, like a flower under the Spring sunshine. "If you want to talk. About anything." He adds the last bit as an afterthought and wink a sly wink that makes her want to smack him. She doesn't though.

"Things have... progressed, I guess?" Instead, she uses her straw to stir her drink and tries not to let the strange flood of anxiety wash her away. Because talking about this makes it real. Talking about it with Jesse makes it something. Something worth talking about, something she maybe wants to talk about, and what that makes it, Beca doesn't know. But Jesse gives an encouraging nod of his head and she finds she can breathe a little easier. "I mean, we've kissed." His nod continues at a slow, even pace. "Like, kind of a lot." Then slows to a stop as he lifts a brow and Beca feels the faintest hint of a blush warming the back of her neck. She rubs at the spot with one hand, chuckling unexpectedly when a thought occurs to her. "She picked me up after class one day, the day you saw us driving?" He nods again, quickly this time. "Totally took me somewhere to park. Like, park park." Jesse's grin is huge, overtaking his entire face.

"Parking?" He asks, his dark eyes sparkling. "What are you, sixteen?" She reaches across to swat his forearm with a bite of her lip. He doesn't bother pulling away.

"I'd never done that before, asshole. We'd been talking about it and she just..." Beca looks away with a shrug, her hands dropping to cradle her cup and rubbing the pad of her thumb along the damp side of the plastic. "You know Chloe. Always thinking about other people." She hears him hum in agreement, soft and quiet. Thoughtful. "Anyway, it was actually really sweet and nice, and things have become a bit more," with an awkward pause, she gestures with one hand and then immediately regrets it, because her brain doesn't always communicate so well with the rest of her body and her fingers clench into a sort of groping motion as she says, "handsy." Then she pauses, hand still hovering in mid-air, a look of horror sweeping over her face. She balls her fingers into a fist and points one at him, eyes lifting to catch his gaze. "Not like, no," his grin somehow widens, "you- shut up! Don't you say a single thing. I swear to God, I will walk out of here and never speak to you again." By the time her rushed tirade comes to an end, he's laughing at her fluster.

"You know," he breaks off another chunk of his pastry and pops it into his mouth, "you act all surprised when people have the audacity to like you and actively seek you out in order to spend time with you, but this is why." Brushing his fingers together to rid them of crumbs, he flicks his hand out towards her and she furrows her brow. His grin turns smug, playfully disbelieving. "You're adorable." And he vats his eyelashes at her for extra emphasis. Beca rolls her eyes, hard.

"I really hate you." Jesse just tosses another piece of his snack into his mouth, then goes on to ask if she thinks their experimenting is having the desired results for Chloe. Beca takes her time sipping her drink and savouring the flavour before answering. Partly to stall, to gather her thoughts, partly because she doesn't actually know how to answer him. And it isn't as though she has to, she knows that Jesse will bug her but that he'll ultimately be okay with whatever she says here. The thing is, she hasn't outright asked Chloe what he's asking her now. She wonders if she maybe should. Just to keep tabs on how things are progressing. "I think so." She hedges, after a few moments. "I mean, it's not like we've sat down and made progress charts," his shoulders shift with a quiet laugh, "but it's, it's whatever." She twirls her straw and takes another sip. "She always seems like she's into it?" Lifts a hand to scratch at the side of her nose. "Like she enjoys it."

"Do you?" Her gaze flies back to him, wide-eyed, and she feels the beat of her heart pick up its pace.

"Dude." She squeaks, sounding something close to scandalized or outraged. In a rare show of mimicry, Jesse's the one rolling his eyes this time.

"I'm not trying to be a creep, Bec." And of course he isn't, she knows that aside from joking around, there isn't a single greasy, sleazy thread in his body. "I just want to make sure that you're doing okay." He flashes her a wink before taking another drink. "Gotta look out for my girl." There's a warmth swirling around inside her chest, bouncing between her ribs and over her lungs, making it a tiny bit more difficult to breathe but also making her feel loved. Her fingers squeeze the plastic cup between her hands, sending the liquid inside soaring towards the hole in the domed lid.

"Well, this isn't for me, so like, that's irrelevant." The words don't sound right though, rough and hollow, and they don't convince Jesse any more than they do herself.

"Pretty sure Chloe would disagree with you there." And this isn't for her, it was never supposed to be, but she's only just settling into the idea that she enjoys it too – that she really enjoys it, that she's maybe allowed to and that Chloe's okay with that – and she's really not ready to discuss that aspect of it yet. With Jesse. In public. And she's mercifully saved from having to talk her way out of it by Jesse's phone ringing. Instinctively, she glances down to where he has it lying face up on the table and does a double-take at the caller I.D. He snatches it up and she catches his gaze as he answers. Guilt creases the corners of his eyes, makes his lips twitch as he smiles and answers with a cheery "Hey!". Her mouth falls open and her eyebrows nearly touch the wisps of hair at the highest point of her forehead. "Yeah, yeah. No, that's fine. I'm actually having coffee with Bec right now anyway." Beca leans back in her seat and folds her arms over her chest, staring him down as his eyes flit back and forth between hers and nothing in particular. "That's- yeah, okay, great. No, four-thirty is fine. Yeah. Okay, I'll talk to you later then. You too. Bye." He ends the call and places the phone back down.

There's a long moment of silence in which he swallows another mouthful of coffee and Beca works the tip of her tongue around the inside of her cheek, before running it over her lips.

"Why is Aubrey calling you?" And she knows that smile, the one he's wearing, like she does the combination to her high school locker. It oozes feigned indifference and yet manages to completely give away the fact that he's trying to hide something.

"Oh. Uh. Well," and with as useless as Beca is when it comes to dealing with people's emotions, she knows how to read them, "when you guys got back from the retreat, it seemed like it had really made a difference. Brought you closer and stuff. I thought it might be a good way to reconnect with Benji and the boys in the future, so I just," and the shrug he gives her is a strangely nervous one, "I got her number from Chloe and gave her a call." Strange, because Jesse doesn't really do nervous. It's not in his repertoire. Beca leans forward, tears off a small piece of what's left of his snack, and gives him a suspicious once over as she chews.

"Why are you being so weird?" She narrows her eyes and lowers her voice as she asks, making a mental note to berate Chloe for not sharing this piece of information with her when she sees her later. That's when she spots it; the pink hue rounding the tips of Jesse's ears. She gasps so wildly that she almost knocks her drink over. "Oh my god." His eyes snap wide, darting around the small coffee house, but hers don't leave his face. She can't quite believe the words that are about to come out of her mouth. "You like her!" But there they are.

"And now you're six." Jesse tries to brush it off with a laugh and an exaggerated eye roll.

"You totally do! Oh my god!" Beca rests her forearms against the tabletop and leans forward. "You used to call her Mein Führer, dude." He points a stern finger at her.

"No, I used to call her your Führer. Difference." Beca's mouth morphs into a smile that echoes the incredulity covering the rest of her face. Her eyes are big and they're shining and the urge to burst into laughter keeps rising without warning. She isn't mad. She sounds it, but she isn't. She actually finds this all kind of hilarious. "And I don't..." because Jesse is adorable when he's all uncomfortable and embarrassed, which isn't something she's seen all that often, and witnessing it always gives her a kind of sadistic glee that she is completely unapologetic about. "We've just been talking, that's all."

"You make it sound like anyone talking to Aubrey of their own free will isn't like this huge character-defining flaw." And when he frowns at her like she's just personally offended him, that's it. She can't hold the laughter back anymore. It explodes from her in a long stream of bubbly exuberance that is so entirely un-Beca-like, it leaves him looking stunned.

Which only makes Beca laugh harder.

---

Time is a fickle bitch.

At least, that's what Amy says.

Beca's starting to see her point. Because for all the instances where she'd found herself wishing time would speed itself up it never did, and now that Beca's University life is coming to an end, now that she wants time to slow down, just a bit, it's flying by too fast to catch. And it's not as though she isn't excited for her life to finally start, she is. She's super excited – some might even say 'stoked', but not her. Nope. – she really is. But there are things in her life right now that she'd like to hold onto for a little while longer.

"Amy, put the chair down!" Chloe's hands are trying to simultaneously reach for Amy and the chair at the same time.

"I want to do Backstreet Boys at Worlds!" But the piece of furniture being brandished like a weapon remains poised overhead while Amy's face contorts under the strain of her determination and Cynthia Rose pre-emptively clutches at the oversized knit blanket that they sometimes have to throw over the Aussie to get her to calm her down.

Beca hangs back in the doorway, dark eyes drinking in the scene before her, absorbing it as she forces herself to memorise this moment. This insane, impossible moment that has somehow become her norm.

Because pretty soon, Beca's going to blink and all of this will be gone.

When Cynthia Rose starts inching forward and the look in Lilly's eyes turns towards manic, Beca takes a breath and heads in.

"We'll do Backstreet Boys when Hell freezes over." Her announcement draws everyone's attention, including Amy's, and she breezes by the scene to heft her laptop bag onto the top of the piano. "Or when I'm dead, whichever comes first."

"I could make one of those happen right now." She turns to glare at Amy who chooses that moment to look away and finally put the chair back down on solid ground. "Or not."

"I always wanted to do the Backstreet Boys." Stacie sighs regretfully from where's she's sitting in the middle of a gathering of mostly empty chairs and Beca rubs at her forehead before unzipping her bag.

"Maybe we can work that in to a rehearsal sometime around never, kay?" She sets her computer aside and pops open the lid, hooking up a few pieces of equipment as she hears Stacie's thoughtful hum.

"I think they're probably going to be too busy to fly out here." Beca's hands still and she slowly lifts her eyes to find her leggy friend distractedly tapping her nail file against her knuckles. "Maybe I could go to them..." She widens her eyes and then turns her head to try and catch Chloe's gaze. Something that proves all too easy, since the redhead is already twisting her head around to find Beca's. Fairer eyebrows rise and Beca's eyes follow the curve of Chloe's lips. She blinks and looks away with a shake of her head.

Chloe had been running through some general warm-up choreography before Beca's arrival – exactly when Stacie had decided to sit down, Beca didn't think she knew – but once the captain announced that she had a rough demo of their set list down, warm ups went out the window. Chloe let out a piercing shriek and practically bounced over to where Beca was stood at the piano, slapping her palms down on its black top.

"Cue it up!" Her grin warms Beca from the inside out, teases her own lips into a playful smirk.

"Patience is a virtue, Chlo." Chloe wrinkles her nose at her, then reaches for the laptop, but Beca's quicker than she is and manages to slap her hands away.

"I don't have time for patience, Mitchell." Chloe pouts, batting her lashes and earning an eye roll. Then she stretches her arms across the piano top until her fingertips can brush along the side of Beca's hand and fixes the brunette with a gaze that could boil water. "I want it now." Beca has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from making a noise, but then Amy makes one for her. A loud, obnoxious snort of laughter comes from where she's straddling the back of her seat.

"Bet that's not the first time you've told her that in the last eighteen hours." Beca's teeth slip, sinking a little too deeply into the flesh of her cheek and she winces at the taste of blood. Chloe turns around with a sigh, resting her back against the piano and Beca tugs at her earlobe as she opens window after pointless window on her laptop.

"Say what?" Cynthia Rose's rough murmur splits the ensuing silence like fine hairs and when Beca risks an upward glance, she finds the woman in question, as well as Emily and Flo, staring at her with varying levels of curiosity while Jessica and Ashley have the decency to pretend to be looking elsewhere. Amy is mouthing something somewhat seriously in Chloe's direction and Stacie has gone back to filing her nails.

"Fat Amy is perverse." Beca sighs after an uncomfortably pregnant pause and it pulls a huff of laughter from Cynthia Rose.

"Tell me something I don't know." She comments wryly and Beca sees Amy's mouth open in slow motion.

"It was like the Isle of Lesbos in our room this morning."

"Amy!" She explodes, hands clenching at the screen of her computer and a blush erupting along the back of her neck. Cynthia Rose's eyes almost bug out of her head and Amy's expression is that of a person who has no idea what they've done wrong and doesn't understand why they're being yelled at. So basically, a toddler.

"What, it was!" And see, Beca had been afraid something like this would happen. Buried at the back of her mind, the worry of being walked in on or found out lurked like a stranger in an underpass. One that steps out from the shadows only to bother her and for one single, solitary reason.

"It really wasn't." As much as she loves the Bellas, every one of them, she doesn't want the questions. She doesn't want the catcalls and the teasing, she doesn't want them interfering. And they will, she knows they will, and she really, really loves them but she needs this to stay between her and Chloe. For her sanity.

"You were sleeping together." Beca baulks and she sees Emily doing an amazing impression of a tennis enthusiast, head bobbing back and forth between her and Amy. She runs her tongue over her teeth and sucks a breath in between them.

"No, that's not-" she shakes her head, staring hard at the back Chloe's and silently willing her to step in and save her ass, "we were sleeping. In the same bed." And it's like the redhead can feel Beca's attention on her, because she turns until she can lean against the piano with a forearm and Beca can see her profile. It is, as always, unaffected in terms of embarrassment. Her smile is humouring, almost as if she's condoning the behaviour, and of course Beca isn't going to get any help from her. This crap is like Chloe's favourite past time. She drags her hands over her face.

"Oh. Oh I see." Then opens her eyes to see Amy looking over at Chloe. "Does Beca often molest your neck in her sleep?" Beca feels like she's dying.

"Oh my god!" Chloe presses her lips together, but it's no use. The laugh bursts free, her mouth stretching in a wide smile, and the glance she throws Beca has just the barest hint of an apology lining it. "Can you stop talking now?" Fat Amy furrows her brow with a shrug.

"I mean, I can try-"

"Good." Beca snaps. "Do that. Because you have no idea what you're talking about."

"Someone's protesting an awful lot." Cynthia Rose's comment is as sly as her smirk and Beca can see Jessica and Ashley huddling close to hide their giggles.

"Please, I doubt Beca even knows how to give a hickey." This from Stacie, who isn't even looking up from her nail filing as she basically insults Beca's bedroom moves. Her green eyes flick up to catch Beca's gaze.

And everything sort of slows to a crawl for a second, because Beca knows that Stacie got a good look at both of them the night before. Knows with the utmost certainty that Stacie would have caught any hint of a hickey prior to them both disappearing upstairs. But of course she hadn't, because no such marks had been present then. And no matter what anyone thinks, Stacie is the furthest thing from dumb, so it should be easy for her to put the clues together. But all she offers her captain is a brief brow furrow of remorse.

"No offence." Beca feels herself shrug on autopilot.

"Sure." But Stacie's continuing on before the word fully leaves Beca.

"It's just, you don't strike me as the wild type, you know? Which is totally cool." Then she's back to her filing. "Not everyone is comfortable with their sexuality."

"I am perfectly comfor-" Beca catches herself, reining in her annoyance and pressing her fingers to her temples. "You know what? Never mind. We have a lot of shit to get through today, so can we please just focus on that and not my sex life?" Amy raises her hand into the air.

"But you are admitting to having one of those then? Currently?"

"Amy, I swear, I will make you run laps." Immediately, Amy closes her mouth. Threatening exercise isn't something Beca enjoys doing – it feels far too Posen-esque – but sometimes it's the only thing that works on Amy. That and the blanket.

By the time they're two hours in all curiosity over Chloe's hickeys and how they came to be seems to have been pushed to the back of the Bellas' minds, shoved their by the intense focus needed to keep up with Chloe when she's 'in the zone'.

Which is exactly where she is right now.

Focused and fierce, busting every move into a zillion sparkling pieces that the rest of them are left to try and catch as they fall. Chloe's something else when it comes to this. Well, Beca thinks she's something else when it comes to a lot of things, but this whole 'dancing and singing' bit? It's what Chloe was born to do and it shows in every twist of her body, every shake of her hips. Things that Beca is absently keeping a close eye on until she realises she's doing it. Then she's almost tripping over herself to look away. But then Emily does actually trip and the upset is some kind of last straw for the redhead, who's been teetering on the brink of a snap for the last forty minutes.

"No, no, no." Chloe stalks over to Beca's laptop and pauses the set list, pulling a collective groan from the group. Beca bends at the waist, hands braced against her kneecaps, sweat-slicked tendrils of hair sticking out at odd angles around her face. "Okay, please just stop." Chloe strides by her and she closes her eyes against the cool breeze that the redhead's rapid pace stirs up as she walks towards Emily. The newest Bella watches her approach with wide, frightened eyes. "Look at me." Beca straightens and her breath wheezes out of her as she winces at the way her back muscles protest to the usually easy movement. Chloe's been riding them hard from the get go.

"Yes, ma'am." She hears Emily mutter and feels sympathy trickle through her.

"What's the problem?" Fiery hair twisted into a bun, hands on her hips, features shadowed and stern; Chloe kind of reminds Beca of her High School gym teacher. But only kind of, because he was taller, hairier, and sort of a dude. Chloe's smaller, smoother, and somehow more intimidating when her eyes do that thing where they look like they might shoot lasers at any given moment. Emily shuffles on the spot and Beca's eyes flicker over the muscles in Chloe's legs as she unconsciously flexes them.

"It's just, um," then up across her thighs and where her tank is pulled tight over her stomach, "I-I think I'm just having trouble with the uh," over a fist and forearm, then along a toned biceps and across a shiny shoulder, "the um," her eyes are trailing the column of Chloe's neck, idling at her marks, when she hears someone pointedly clearing their throat. She snaps her attention away from her friend and towards the sound. Stacie is staring at her, shooting her a look that screams "get ready to wrangle your captain, captain" without the busty brunette having to say a word.

"Spit it out, Em." And Chloe is never outright mean, but boy her glares can pack a mean wallop. So it's sympathy that sends her shuffling into the space between Chloe and Emily right as the taller woman opens her mouth to say something that is probably going to be wrong no matter what it is.

"Chlo? Can I talk to you?" Bright blue eyes see right through the fake smile Beca plasters on but Chloe allows herself to be taken by the elbow and led away towards one corner of the room. Once Beca decides that they're a far enough distance from the group, she stops and turns Chloe towards her. "Hey." She says, tersely. "What the eff, dude?" Chloe sighs and tips her head back to stare up at the ceiling.

"I'm sorry." Beca watches the way her throat bobs as she speaks.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm who you should be saying that too." She drops her hand from Chloe's elbow and the movement seems to run through the redhead's body, pulling her head forward again. She does look sorry though, her eyes are even a bit glassy. Which of course immediately sends Beca into high alert. "What's wrong?" Chloe only shakes her head, wringing out her hands and blowing out a breath as she blinks back tears whilst trying to make it look like she isn't doing that.

"Nothing." Beca's brow creases.

"Chloe." She wraps her hands around the other woman's arms and leans into her, using her weight to try and hold her still. It works; Chloe's body freezes. For a few heartbeats, they're just looking at one other. Beca feels it circling her, that same whisper of dread that always comes around to sting her ears whenever Chloe is upset about something. "Talk to me."

"I think," Chloe manages after a minute, bringing a hand up to press the heel of her palm against her forehead, "I'm just really stressed about everything right now. Between finally graduating and worlds and wanting everything to be perfect-"

"It will be perfect." Beca gives Chloe's arms a reassuring squeeze, pausing only long enough to wet her dry lips and make sure that she's looking at Chloe. Really looking at her. "You are going to look totally hot in your cap and gown." Because she's learned that eye contact with Chloe is important. "We are going to kick some skinny German ass at Worlds." That through it, Chloe becomes grounded and settled. "And you are going to put everyone to shame with how awesome and perfect you are." And can somehow set the person on the other end at the kind of ease that allows their lips to flap without thought. And whatever, Beca's fine with it. She's learned that making people happy feels pretty good and if she has to make herself the idiot to do that, then okay.

So long as it keeps making Chloe smile like that.

Chloe's shoulders relax and the glassy quality to her eyes has receded. She lifts her hands and trails her fingertips along the underside of Beca's forearms before she grasps her by the elbows and pulls her a hair closer. A shiver shoots along the brunette's spine.

"When you say things like that," and she tries to keep her breathing steady with how loud it is above Chloe's low whisper, "it really makes me want to kiss you."

So. Feeling like she wants to let Chloe do just that with the Bellas at her back is really super weird.

"Well that," she extracts her hands with a rueful smile, "will have to wait until later."

She tries not to pay too much attention to Chloe's pout.

---

Chloe's apologies are the kind that cannot be refused. One does not simply decline an acceptance of them. No, even if you wanted to deny the redhead with the big blue eyes – which, why would you, what is wrong with you? – you'd be S.O.L. Because when she hangs her head like that and walks over to you with her lip between her teeth, batting her eyelashes like an extra from Bambi, there's no way anyone can stay mad or annoyed, or whatever the hell they were with her. It all melts away into this warm, gooey mess, and Beca had gotten to see that courtesy of Emily. Who had puddled mercury out of a broken thermometer when Chloe had shuffled over and said she was sorry. Then there had been hugging and an impromptu singing session that had put everyone in a better mood.

After that, the rest of practise had gone off without a hitch, allowing Beca ample opportunity to map the details of the marks she'd left against Chloe's skin. The vibrant colour of them reminds her to be thankful that her own have faded enough to be covered by concealer and she doesn't have to hide them behind a curtain of hair anymore.

She can't believe Chloe is parading them around like she is. Beca knows that the other woman has no shame when it comes to things of a sexual or intimate nature – rightfully so – but she'd expected her to be a bit more tactful? Secretive? Although she has no idea why, Chloe isn't one for hiding herself away and it isn't as though Beca is mad or anything that Chloe isn't hiding the hickeys.

She just would have prepared herself a little better if she'd known. Or she'd have tried to, at any rate. Chances are she would have probably still acted like a bumbling adolescent caught doing something she shouldn't even with prior warning. Seems like that's the story of her life when it comes to Chloe though; always being yanked out of her element.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Beca manages to shut down her jump of surprise before it can be executed, keeping the motion internal, but her fingers clench around the sides of her laptop as she shuts it down. Dark eyes flick to their sides. Chloe is standing beside her, skin still a little damp from exertion, hair a frazzled halo around her head.

"I," Beca begins carefully, closing the lid and sliding her computer into its bag, "was just thinking about how complicated you make my life." The redhead mouths a silent "ah" and gives a slow nod of her head, leaning her forearms against the top of the piano.

"Just think how bored you'd be without me." There's a twinkle in Chloe's eyes and a teasing smile painting her lips. Beca's attention flits back and forth before she pulls her lips back over her teeth.

"Yeah, I feel like my everyday would just run a lot smoother, you know? Less bumps." At that, Chloe tips herself further forward, one foot coming off of the waxed floor to balance herself as that teasing smile stretches.

"But the bumps are what make it fun, Becs." And she winks. Flirty and slow, and ridiculously lascivious. And Beca feels her pulse flutter as Chloe holds her gaze.

"Um..." Their heads turn in unison to find Emily awkwardly wringing out the strap of her bag as she waits for them to notice her. "Hey, sorry." She offers with a short wave when they finally do. "I just wanted to check if my mom got a hold of you?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, she did." Mrs Junk is probably one of the coolest parents, coolest people, that Beca has ever met. Well, verbally met; they haven't actually done the whole face to face thing yet. Pretty soon though. "She said she'd heard back from like, seventy percent or something? And that your..." Beca pauses, squinting as she tries to recall the phone conversation she'd had with Mrs Junk. "Godmother?" Emily smiles and bobs her head. "Is totally on board and trying to get in touch with some of the Bellas your mom couldn't reach."

"Awesome." Emily beams and Beca thinks it's cute, how close she is with her mom. That they're more than just parent and child, that they're friends. That Emily can probably talk to Mrs Junk about anything. "Okay, well I just wanted to make sure, so I'll just..." she jerks her thumb in the direction of the door, "leave you guys to it." And backs away from them with an odd little bow of her head and follows Stacie and Cynthia Rose out.

"So..." Fat Amy is the last one to leave. "What are you two chickies up to this evening?" Beca shoots her a glare.

"Why are you asking?" Amy draws out a high-pitched hum alongside her "no reason" and looks around the auditorium with a nonchalance so feigned, it's almost insulting.

"Just, you know, don't want to accidentally walk in on anything."

"Amy." Beca's warning tone is somewhat less affective when paired with the sound of Chloe giggling. The Tasmanian waves her hand and laughs, speciously.

"Right. Nothing going on. Gotcha." Then she flashes Beca an exaggerated wink that has the brunette glowing scarlet with rage. She tries yelling but can't get any of her words out, so she just ends up spitting out a bunch of vowel sounds as Stacie pokes her head back in to tell Amy to get a move on. The blonde leaves, but not before tossing, "Try not to suck each others faces off between here and the house, yeah?" over her shoulder. "You need your lips for Worlds!"

"Get out of my auditorium!" Beca's bark is echoed by Amy's laughter, as well as further giggling from the woman beside her. Beca glances over at her, glowering. Chloe is nothing but smiles and sunshine. "You're being ridiculously unhelpful with this." Chloe shrugs and straightens, pushing off the piano and walking over to her duffle bag.

"Do you really care if they know?" She asks, taking a seat on one of the chairs and pulling off the runners she'd bought specifically for rehearsals. Beca hefts the strap of her bag over her head.

"Yes!" It comes out as a mini explosion, causing Chloe's hand to hover over where she's just dropped a second shoe into her bag and is reaching for a well worn pair of Vans she'd stolen from Beca during the brunette's second year at Barden. She flashes Beca a raised brow. Beca makes a few random hand gestures as she walks around the piano towards Chloe. "What? It's not like it's any of their business." Chloe resumes her movements, pulling out the old sneakers and dropping them to the floor before sliding her feet in. It's as Chloe's head is down, turned away from her, that Beca hears her ask.

"Are you embarrassed or something?" And the furrow in Beca's brow is so deep that even she's surprised when it doesn't crack her face.

"What?" She sputters, literally incapable of comprehending what she's been asked for a handful of seconds. "No, I-" the words get caught somewhere at the back of her throat and she has to cough once to dislodge them. By that time, Chloe's looking at her again. Light blue eyes gleaming with an element of uncertainty that one wouldn't ever expect to find after taking a first, brief glance at Chloe's character. "No, I'm not. Of course I'm not. I told you already," she pauses, twisting her mouth as she swallows and grips at the thick material of the strap slung over her shoulder, "there are people who would give their left arm to be-"

"Boob." Beca blinks at the interruption and the tightness at her chest eases somewhat when Chloe's lips quirk into a small smile. "You said they'd give their left boob to make out with me. Not their arm."

"And that distinction is important to you, is it?" Chloe nods, her smile widening, and Beca just shakes her head and accepts it.

"Whatever. My point is, I don't have anything to be embarrassed about. There are literal leagues of people who would be willing to commit acts of dire humiliation just to be given the chance of trading places with me." She lifts both eyebrows. "Making out with Chloe Beale on the semi-regular? I should be congratulated." After using her index finger as a shoehorn, Chloe stands and lifts the strap of her own bag onto her shoulder before closing the distance between them.

"Congratulated, huh?" Beca's insides twist as Chloe's smile morphs into a smirk, like a lioness's walk slinks into a crouch and pounce. "And why is that?" The cold chill of apprehension spreads icicles along the lining of Beca's stomach as she realises she's being backed into a metaphorical corner. And that Chloe knows exactly what she's doing right now.

"Oh, I think you know why." Beca replies, tongue poking the side of her cheek as she stares Chloe down, shooting for sarcastic certainty and surprising herself by largely succeeding. Chloe purses her lips and then lets out a breath, and they're close enough now that Beca feels the tail end of it whisper across her cheek.

"Maybe..." Chloe reaches towards the her and Beca feels her heart start to hammer. And it's kind of annoying, the way her body responds to Chloe, because she'd really like to be able to maintain her composure right now and best the redhead at her own game. Because that totally feels like something that should be within Beca's grasp. "I just want..." only it couldn't be further from it right now and Beca thinks her palms might be starting to sweat, "to hear you say it." Fingers brush the side of Beca's face and she fights against her eyelids' desire to flutter, maintaining the all important eye contact as Chloe smooths down a few wayward strands of hair.

"Yeah?" Beca's voice is suddenly breathy, something that might be embarrassing if she were able to focus on anything but Chloe's proximity and the way it makes her eyes sparkle. "Why's that?" Fingertips stroke aimlessly along the column of Beca's neck, rising and falling with the hard swallow she can't stop in time, until Chloe's hand curves around her shoulder, levering herself closer and pressing her lips to Beca's ear.

"I think you know." Beca can feel her ears burning when Chloe pulls back, but a scowl makes its way onto her face regardless.

"You can't keep using my own words against me." Chloe laughs and takes a step backwards, then another, until she's turning and walking towards the door.

"Yeah? Says who?"

"Uh, me?" Beca offers, following after her and silently pleading for her heart to just, chill for a second. Take a break. "The universe? It's like an unwritten law." Chloe scoffs, stepping over the threshold and out of their practise space.

"Of what?" Beca takes the time to turn and make sure the door closes properly, because the one time she hadn't, they'd arrived the next day to find dog crap everywhere and Aubrey had made her clean it up. Alone. But only for the first five minutes because Chloe had refused to participate in practise at all if Beca was going to be made to do something so awful by herself.

"I don't know, dude. The best friend code or something." She turns to find Chloe smiling dreamily at her, hands clasped together in front of her body, batting her eyelashes like a thoroughly romanced housewife from the fifties. "Shut up." She brushes by Chloe with a glare, setting off at a pace that forces the other woman jog to catch up to her.

"You love me." Chloe needles, bumping their shoulders together. Beca's sour expression never falters.

"I said shut up." Her grumblings fall on deaf ears though. She'd known they would.

"And you think I'm pretty." Beca rolls her eyes, ignoring the heat at the base of her neck. She hears Chloe sigh beside her, airy and pleased. "The prettiest girl in the whole school." There's a part of Beca, granted it's much smaller than it was once upon a time, that sort of wants to die right now. Wants the ground to open up and just take her. Anywhere, away, into the arms of Satan himself because that would probably make her feel less... whatever it is she's feeling. When none of that happens, she lets out a muttered, disgruntled noise. "Are you denying it?"

"It's like, super debatable right now." She's well aware of how big a 'non-answer' that is. Judging by the way the redhead is staring at her profile, Chloe's aware of it too. "Gloating isn't pretty on anyone."

Except Beca's a big fat liar.

Because on Chloe, it totally is.

---

The fact of the matter is that Chloe is probably the prettiest girl Beca's ever seen. Like, in a general, non-creepy sense. She doesn't exactly go around eyeing up every female to cross her path, but out of the ones she's actively noted? Yeah, Chloe's probably got them all beat. Which isn't to say that the other Bellas are any less attractive, they all are in different ways, but there's something about Chloe that can over shadow even Stacie's raw sex appeal. Not that Beca thinks about Stacie like that – and she honestly doesn't, it's never once entered her mind – it's just a statement of truth. "Stacie is hot", quotes the universe. And while there's so much more to her than her looks – seriously, the chick is up to her eyeballs in pre-med stress and loving every second of it – there's always that 'something' when it comes to Chloe.

Objectively speaking, Chloe Beale is gorgeous.

If Beca was an emo teenager, she'd probably compose really awful poetry about how the sunlight catches her hair and shimmers off of her smile. But she isn't, so she won't. Not even mentally. But if she was then she probably would, because Chloe is that kind of pretty.

And she's like ninety-nine percent sure she shouldn't be thinking about this in the shower. Especially given how long it had taken her to stop thinking about the redhead every time she so much as saw a shower curtain freshman year.

Oh well, too late now.

Shaking herself, she shuts off the tap and goes about her post-shower routine, ending as always with her blow-drying most of the moisture from her hair before brushing it back into a loose ponytail. She leans towards the mirror to inspect her face, screwing it up after a few seconds and looking away with a disgruntled huff. She wonders if Chloe ever has days where she looks in the mirror and doesn't like what she sees. On the one hand, she can't imagine that she does. Because Beca sees Chloe's face regularly. On the other, she also knows Chloe. Knows that even the prettiest of people have insecurities, despite all of the positive energy they put out that tells people otherwise.

Damp towel slung over her shoulder, Beca exits the bathroom and takes the stairs to her and Amy's shared attic. She drops her towel and gross, sweaty practise clothes into the hamper, distractedly humming along to a tune she doesn't recognise at first. When she realises it's "Torn", she stops herself with a rueful smile and a shake of her head.

Sure, most of the retreat had been god awful and something she would be hard pressed to repeat even if threatened with an alternatively slow and painful death. Between the exhaustion and the stress of it all, then fighting with Chloe and almost being killed – she doesn't care what anyone else says, she seriously could have died in that bear trap – she hadn't thought there would be room for much else, good or bad. But then Aubrey had suggested a camp fire and Amy had screamed herself hoarse over the thought of s'mores, and somewhere around Stacie telling them all that the only camp fire she'd ever been to had been on a beach in Miami and she never really got around to the s'more eating. Something Fat Amy had a difficult time understanding at first.

"How do you not have time for smores?"

"When you're busy having really awesome sex with a guy built like a Greek God."

"Ooooh."

All it had taken was one look from Chloe and a quiet "You know you can talk to me about anything", and Beca was unfolding like they were the only two people there. It's a hard thing for her to do, admit she can't handle something by herself, but Chloe knows that and somehow that always makes it easier. And it's the fact that Chloe knows her so well that had made that moment even more bitter-sweet. Gathered there with the people she'd spent the last four years of her life with, people who'd become her family, who she saw more than her own flesh and blood.

Because it really wasn't ever going to be like that again. After Graduation, they'd probably never all be in the same place at the same time. Not unless Aubrey was arranging some kind of reunion and literally flew to all ends of the globe in order to drag them all into the same room.

Which, in fairness, Beca can totally see her doing.

That sucked though, the truth of it, because Beca's really, really going to miss all of them. She'd meant it that night, had felt how much in the way her nose had started to tingle as she said the words, staring hard into the fire in the hopes it would steam away the threatening tears.

Then Chloe had opened her mouth, and all hope of that had been dashed. Her eyes had immediately become glassy, a lump surging to sit high in her throat, and she can feel it now. The prickling behind her eyes, the tumble of her stomach as Chloe sang the opening line, the way she'd looked at Beca. A mixture of unsure certainty that shouldn't have been possible, but Chloe had never really been one for listening to rules.

Because Beca had hung a "No Admittance" sign over her ribcage a long, long time ago, and Chloe had just ducked right underneath it on her way in. They all had, really. Chloe had just maybe made it in a little deeper.

And the song had brought Beca to the Bellas, had been the catalyst for everything that has transpired in the last four years, including Muff Gate, to a degree, and there had been at least two people around the fire that night who had no idea about that. No idea why Chloe had chosen that song. And even those who did know probably didn't really understand the magnitude of it.

Because the song that had started all this? Chloe was now singing at the end of it all. To Beca, for Beca. And the way she looked at her? It had almost been too much. Had almost tipped Beca over the edge, there was so much feeling there. Sunken into her gaze and screaming from her expression. The enormity of the emotion radiating from her had clawed at Beca in a way that was entirely unexpected. Harsh and raw, and it had left her feeling exposed.

But it had worked. Had been the flood that broke the drought.

Chloe had come to the rescue again.

Like she so often did for Beca.

Right now though, it was Chloe that was going to need rescuing, because Beca had a medium-to-large sized bone to pick with her.

"Jesse asked you for Aubrey's number and you didn't tell me?" From in front of her vanity, Chloe slowly pivots herself around on the stool she's sitting on and gives Beca a once over before answering.

"You know, I kind of always thought you'd be the jealous type." She muses with a quick nod, lifting a hand to tap her pointer finger against her lips. Beca frowns, confused, and Chloe lets her hand fall with a sigh. "I didn't think it would be a problem since you guys broke up?"

"Oh my god." Beca's eye roll is one of mammoth proportions. "I don't mean- dude, no." She pulls a face and shakes her head, taking a single step into the room. "I'm not jealous." Chloe turns back to the mirror – where Beca can now see she's applying mascara – with a high hum of what sounds a lot like patronizing disbelief.

"You know, Becs, that's exactly what someone who's jealous would say." Beca stares hard at Chloe's reflection, but the redhead is too focused on stroking the brush over her lashes. Beca finds herself momentarily distracted by the sweeping motion, only pulling herself out of it when Chloe's eyes finally do flick to hers.

"Are you being serious right now?" Chloe holds her gaze for a few seconds, then Beca sees her lips start to stretch. She exhales through her nose and drops her shoulders. "You're an asshole." Chloe's smile widens as she caps the brush and places it next to a handful of other items Beca doesn't think she needs to use.

"You call me far too many names." With a final inspection, she turns back to Beca with curiously raised eyebrows. "Is this like kindergarten? Are you just being mean to me because you like me?" Beca hangs her head and holds her empty hands out.

"You got me. Yeah. That's exactly it." When Chloe stands with a chuckle, Beca's confidence falters for an instant, but she drags it back upright when the other woman takes a step closer and Beca forces herself to maintain eye contact. "I just really, really like you." She blows out a purposefully shaky breath that she doesn't really need to fake and feels her insides shudder at the way the redhead beams. "Chloe? Will you share a juice box with me?" Chloe presses a hand to her chest, stalling a foot or so away from Beca and speaking with the broken reverence of someone deeply moved.

"I would be honoured." Beca's façades splinters and then she's grinning, a small chuckle shaking her frame. "Maybe it'll lead to us sharing a mat at nap time."

"Hey, I'm no hussy. We'll have to share at least four juice boxes and a package of animal crackers before that." She clicks her tongue with a wink and Chloe laughs again, curls bobbing as she shakes her head in amusement. "Really though, what's up with Aubrey and Jesse?" Chloe shrugs, moving around Beca.

"I just gave him her number." Beca turns to watch as Chloe grips the doorknob and presses it back into the frame. She's abruptly and acutely aware of how close she is to Chloe's bed. "Aubrey hasn't really said anything to me." She turns back to Beca and the brunette narrows her eyes. "Did Jesse say something to you?"

"But she has said something." Chloe's laughter bubbles from her even as Beca ignores her question, or maybe it's because of that.

"Just that he'd called her." She walks back to Beca, reaching for her. Her hands grasp the shorter woman's upper arms and gently squeeze before she rubs them up and down from shoulder to elbow. "Why is this bothering you so much?" Beca visibly bristles but doesn't move away. She is, in fact, consciously aware of how she doesn't feel the need to.

"It's not bothering me." She retorts, teeth clenched, and the little sound Chloe makes is riddled with disbelief. "I just figured that if my ex, who I'm still super good friends with, ever crushed on my former nemesis," Chloe tuts reprovingly at her choice of words, "he'd maybe tell me. And I wouldn't find out just because she happened to call him while I was there." Chloe's lips press into a pout as she turns Beca with little more than the suggestion of hands against her arms. They drift down to Beca's and take hold, tugging her along as Chloe backs towards the bed.

"Poor Becs. Are you feeling neglected?" Beca glares at her, mouth popping open with an audible, annoyed, smacking sound.

"I'm feeling something." She warns, but the twinkling in Chloe's eyes never ceases. She uses her hold on Beca's hands to pull closer, much like she had during Beca's first hood night, until their noses almost brush. Beca's breath hitches. She pretends that it doesn't.

"Is it sexy?" Chloe whispers, low and husky, but she can only hold onto the play for a handful of seconds before she's falling back onto her bed with a laugh. Beca's face recovers far quicker than the rest of her body and she schools her expression into what had once been, and still kind of is her neutral 'resting bitch face'. Or whatever the hell Stacie had called it one night after too many mimosas. "Do you really think he's crushing on her?" Scooting over on the bed, Chloe pats the small patch of space beside her and flashes a hopeful smile up at Beca.

"No dude, I know." She drops down with a derisive huff, lying flat with her head against Chloe's pillow, and stares up at the ceiling. "You don't spend that much time with a person and not learn how to figure out when they're lying to you." Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the redhead scrutinizing her. "I'm not jealous." Sees the corners of her mouth twitch into a smile. "I guess I'm just..." she pauses, a heavy sigh lifting her chest, "not used to him not telling me stuff, you know?"

"Yeah." Chloe concedes with a nod. "I mean, Tom and I, we talked a lot. Maybe not about everything, but it was weird when that started to become less frequent." Beca lifts the arm furthest from Chloe and rubs the heel of her hand over the tip of her nose, then loops the arm loosely around the top of her head. "You guys are still good though, right?"

"As far as I know." Beca sighs and there's an edge of bitterness to it that she knows is unfair. Because Jesse's totally the type who'd feel awkward talking about potential new romances, especially if it happened to be with Aubrey, given her and Beca's history. And she's not mad at him, it's just really weird. It's different.

And Beca doesn't doesn't handle change all that well.

"You know you're being silly, right?" She's about to huff or roll her eyes or something as equally aloof when a gentle touch caresses the hand above her head. Chloe's fingers are idly toying with her own, stroking over the length of them and tugging at the tips. All done innocently enough but it sends Beca's heart skipping nonetheless, and she quietly battles against the unexpected deluge of pins and needles that race along her skin.

She thinks she's coping pretty well with this change though, all things considered.

"Yeah." She briefly wonders if this is some kind of new trick. If Chloe's figured out the easiest way to get Beca to agree to something. But her thoughts are stilted by fingertips tickling her palm, sending sparks rocketing towards her elbow, then up to her shoulder. She swallows, shifting to suppress the shiver that's itching to slither along her spine. "I know." And blinks up at Chloe, lips parted, but words delayed. "I do, I," another blink. Chloe's eyes are freaky blue right now. "It's whatever. He's a big boy." Her smile is as genuine as it always is as her fingers trace circles around Beca's palm. "He can make his own mistakes."

"Excuse me." Chloe's squeal of offence is quickly followed by a pincer-like pinching of the skin below Beca's thumb. The brunette yelps and tries to pull her hand back, but Chloe holds fast. "That 'mistake' happens to be one of my best friends." Beca arcs an eyebrow.

"That doesn't mean you'd date her!" Chloe's shoulders bounce with her giggles, shaking the bed and Beca both. She lets her hand still in Chloe's again, making short work of her relinquishing attempts. "You can't sit there and tell me that dating Aubrey Posen wouldn't be a nightmare." She feels Chloe's thumb absently brushing the dip of her wrist where it meets the bottom of her palm. Beca's toes curl against the duvet they're lying on.

"It wouldn't be without its rough patches." Chloe's admission garners a smug clicking of Beca's tongue, but dark eyes take in the redhead's shifting expression – the slight narrowing of her eyes, the shadow of thought that passes over her face, the tilting of her head – and she knows that smugness is about to be short-lived. "But I think she'd make up for it in bed." Beca's eyes slip closed and she lets out a heavy breath, an uncomfortable weight settling against her chest. She feels Chloe move beside her and opens her eyes in time to see red hair sweeping in close to her cheek. "I bet she's a tiger in the sack." Is whispered into her ear and all of the air in Beca's lungs leaves by way of a thoroughly disdainful groan of disapproval.

"Oh my god." Chloe's cackle, because there are in fact times where she does resemble a witch in that department, isn't as unpleasant as the word might suggest. Beca actually thinks it's kind of adorable, lying back and watching as the redhead's mouth stretches around her laughter, red hair slipping away from her face as she tips her head back. "What is wrong with you?" It's the kind of sight that reduces her to the kind of person who is unable to muster any malice, no matter how hard she tries. So every one of her would-be-scathing questions comes out via a stupid smile and squeaks free around barely contained laughter. "Why would you say that to me?" Because this has become her permanent 'talking to Chloe' setting over the last few years. Smiley and care-free.

Very un-past-Beca-like.

"Because it's fun to watch you squirm." Chloe lets her head loll forward again and meets Beca's gaze, smiling down at her with a crinkling of her nose. Beca rolls her eyes, but they return to the same spot. That's one of the things Beca loves most about Chloe; her honesty. As a kid, Beca had been lied to a lot – for her "own good" - and so people who went out of their way to be truthful ranked pretty high on her 'give a shit' list. Chloe, with her truthful smile and honourable brashness, is more than likely right at the top of it. She hasn't actually checked it in a while. "Have you ever been attracted to another woman?" Of course, Chloe also doesn't have a problem asking questions that other people might approach with a little more caution. She just jumps in with both feet and the hope that she doesn't drown this time, an unknown but ever present fear when swimming near Beca.

"Um..." Beca, who has looked away and feels a little like she's been left out at sea right now. Bobbing on uneven waters without a single thing to cling to. Chloe's smile is patient though. Always content to wait, whatever the reason. Beca moves her hand to toy with the edge of her t-shirt and realises the other that would usually join it in the nervous habit is still lying dead beneath Chloe's ministrations. "I don't know." Chloe barks a laugh.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" She's grinning when Beca looks back at her. She can feel weird muscles in her face twitching as she tries to keep her expression neutral and shrugs against the mattress.

"I've never really thought about it." And she hasn't really. She can't, in that moment, recall ever looking at another woman twice. Not like that. Not like she's sort of, maybe, kinda caught herself looking at Chloe once or twice today. Possibly yesterday also. She can't bring to mind a specific time where she was consciously aware of being turned on by another woman, by something they were doing or how they were moving or looking at Beca.

"Well, think about it now." Beca rolls her eyes. Of course Chloe would expect it to be that simple.

"I can't just- It's not, I'd need to-to, to think, dude. You can't just-" Beca cuts herself off with a guttural sound of frustration and it flies from her as she waves a hand towards Chloe. "Have you?"

"Yes." Chloe answers immediately, bobbing her head, and of course it's just that easy for her. She retrieves her hand from Beca's and the brunette quickly curls hers into a fist, moving it to rest next to the other by the bottom of her shirt. She keeps her attention on Chloe though, watching as she runs fingers through red curls and bites her lip, thinking something over. "But you probably mean other than you, right?" That feeling a person gets when their crush makes eye contact with them in the school hallway? Or when their brand new boyfriend or girlfriend puts their arm around them for the first time? And it feels like cold water is being poured into their body from an opening in their neck, but in a good way? That's what fills Beca when Chloe asks that, asks it like it's nothing. No big deal. She doesn't even linger on it and there's no teasing or meaningful glance. She's just stating a fact and Beca kind of freezes because they definitely haven't talked about that at any kind of length. Chloe sounds like she expects Beca to have anticipated it though and really, Chloe should know better than that. Because Beca Mitchell is kind of an idiot in that department. "Promise you won't laugh?" The hesitation in Chloe's tone brings Beca back down to earth and she furrows her brow.

"Of course I won't." But the teasing twitch of Chloe's lips is still there.

"I haven't told you yet." And okay, so Beca's definitely intrigued. She hasn't spent all that much time considering the reason, or reasons, why Chloe had wanted to try this, what started it all. Biting her lip again, Chloe scoots down until she and Beca are at eye level. She presses her hands together and props them beneath her cheek as Beca turns her head to watch. "I think maybe Aubrey." Something bubbles up inside Beca, but it isn't laughter. She feels her expression freeze, rather than twist into a playful display of revulsion, and it's been a solid ten seconds since the last time she blinked when she realises Chloe's face is falling. Right before her eyes.

"See?" She forces a smile. "Totally not laughing." After a few beats, Beca can see Chloe's anxiety visibly easing and she pulls a hand free, letting it drift towards Beca. "But um," her eyes flick towards the ceiling as Chloe's hand settles lightly against her hip, "you think?" Chloe's close enough that Beca swears she feels the vibration from the redhead's hum shudder through her.

"Yeah. I mean, some of the women in my classes are really hot, but I've thought back on how I was with Aubrey and I'm just... not sure, I guess? I love her a lot." And yeah, sure. There had to be enormous amounts of love and affection for Chloe to put up with the crap Aubrey had thrown at her during the blonde's final year. Beca just hadn't considered that it might have gone beyond that, at least for Chloe, until now. "I don't know that I was in love with her or anything." And the strangest, barbed, twisting sensation rips through Beca's stomach, strong enough to make her flinch. "What?" Beca's eyes dart.

"What?" She can feel them widening in that overly innocent manner, the one that fools absolutely zero people except for her grandma, god rest her soul. Chloe is frowning again and this time Beca acts without thinking. She presses the pad of her thumb against the furrow between Chloe's brows and holds it there for a second to steady her hand, then relieves enough pressure to sweep it back and forth until the skin there is smooth again. "Sorry. I guess I just never really expected you to have felt like that. Potentially."

"Does that weird you out?" Chloe's eyes catch hers in between strokes and Beca's throat tightens as she shakes her head.

Because no, it doesn't.

And being open and honest might have made her feel uncomfortable, like a lot, in the past. But the way Chloe smiles at her now? She thinks that might make all of that nasty discomfort worth it.

Jesus. When did she turn into this?

"No. I'm just being dumb." And she's about to take her hand back when Chloe grabs it with the one that had been pressed against her cheek. Chloe gives it a squeeze and Beca lets her take it down to lie against the mattress. "No one before Aubrey though?" Chloe shrugs, a rare thing to behold.

"I don't know." Beca hikes her eyebrows with a smirk.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" Finally, she's the one getting to throw Chloe's words back at her and she receives a shove against her hip for her efforts. She rolls with it and a smile as finger tap a rhythm out against the palm of her hand.

"I don't really know how to explain." Which is something Beca doesn't think she's ever heard the other woman say. Chloe could teach a table how to waltz or a vending machine to limbo. She's good at explaining things, even outside of the a cappella world, and she never gives up on anyone. Seriously, she taught Fat Amy how to play chess in their second year and between distractions and rehashing and using the Bellas as pawns, it had taken six hours. But Chloe had stuck it out. Sure, she had to pull Amy back by her 'Orthodox Jew' ponytail a few times, but damn it if she doesn't know how to play a mean game of chess after the whole ordeal. So Chloe not knowing how to explain something, especially in regard to her feelings, is like Beca suddenly not knowing how to mix. Like Bigfoot, it's something that can go years in between sightings.

"Oh," is what slips out in her surprise, but then she follows it up with a confident, "Okay." because it is okay. If Chloe says she doesn't know, then she doesn't, and it isn't just an avoidance tactic because she doesn't want to talk about it which, frankly, would be a total Beca move. "Can we go back to what you said before?" But easing the tension with sarcasm and egotistical enquiries is also a total Beca move. "About you being attracted to me?" It's also something that Chloe has never had trouble playing along with.

The redhead's mouth curves into a wide grin and her hand squeezes Beca's hip, sending a shockwave along her lower back.

"I don't think I remember that?" She says with a confused little frown and Beca feels her body relax further as she twists her lips to the side, eyeing Chloe suspiciously.

"I distinctly remember you implying that you found me attractive." She lets her eyes drop to Chloe's lips where a tongue slips out to wet them as she wrinkles her nose up.

"Hmm, nope. I don't think I said that." Beca feels the familiar thrill that always accompanies their playful banter buzz through her body and she slips her hand out of Chloe's, pressing it into the bed to push herself up and turns onto her side.

She can see Chloe's gleeful excitement in the way her body vibrates against the bed. Infinitesimal movements that reek of anticipation just as much as the toothy smile she's giving Beca does. Biting her teeth together to hold in the laughter. It's the kind of situation that leads to the occasional tickle fight, which always end quickly because Beca is "a huge baby" when it comes to being tickled. She argues that it makes her feel like she's dying, which it does.

"Do not take this away from me." She says with a handful of idle threats, and she's trying to glare at Chloe but her eyes are so wide and bright and brilliant, and Beca's pretty sure she could look at them for like, a really long time.

Which is only mildly disconcerting in the moment.

"Or. What?" Because Chloe's confidence is seeping back in by the bucket load and Beca literally can't think of anything else beyond the way the redhead's whole demeanour changes when that happens. Her arm wobbles as Chloe's hand finds its way under the hem of her shirt, brushing skin, and she has to curl her fingers into the bedding to reaffirm her balance.

"I..." she wavers when she catches Chloe staring, rather pointedly, at her mouth, "will think of something. Terrible." She manages to come off sounding semi-certain. Fingers stroke a short ways up Beca's side, over her hip and through the dip, hitting the very bottom edge of her ribcage before drifting back down. She chews on the inside of her cheek and holds herself steady. If she moves, in any way, she might collapse.

Chloe might stop touching her.

She doesn't want either of these things to happen. So, she clears her throat and allows that quiet voice in the back of her mind to reiterate just how 'okay' this all is.

"Speaking of thinking." With the skin of her cheek still clamped between her teeth, Beca raises a single eyebrow, not quite trusting herself to speak. Not with Chloe's index finger dipping towards the waistband of her low slung pants, drawing a circle in the hollow of her hip. "I've been thinking about what you said after rehearsals." Beca's eyebrow remains in its elevated state and she really hopes Chloe gets the message because there are fingers dancing across her abdomen and yeah, she's not opening her mouth right now. "Semi-regular?" Beca's pretty sure that the entire surface of her skin jumps when Chloe reverses the motion of her hand with a twist of her wrist and drags her nails up over Beca's side. She forgets to nod, but Chloe goes on anyway. "And how," her leg muscles flex involuntarily as Chloe traces patterns as far as she can reach along her lower back, "we could make that a 'more-regular' thing," Beca tries to take a breath but Chloe's nails are lightly scratching over her back now and it audibly hitches in a way that makes Chloe smirk and her own eyes slip shut in embarrassment. "If you want to."

The thing is, she doesn't remember feeling quite like this with Jesse. And again, she isn't comparing them like that, but while things with him had been exciting and different, while she'd always had fun and felt good, it hadn't been like this. She hadn't felt like she wanted to crawl out of her own skin. Or pull him inside of it. Hadn't felt such desperate confusion over which she's be more likely to do. With Chloe, it's all amped up to ten. Eleven even. It's raw and unexpected. It's more. And Beca doesn't know why that is. How much of it is to to with the experimenting, that Chloe wants to be doing this with her, or if it's just that Chloe's Chloe. That Chloe's good at this. And she shouldn't even be thinking about it this much, because she's doing this for Chloe and it's okay if Beca likes it, and nothing else matters.

"Oh yeah?" She hears herself answer, like a disembodied voice floating in from another plane of existence. Chloe nods with a bite of her lip, her eyes flickering down to Beca's mouth again as her whole body seems to shift without moving.

"Yeah." She breathes out, hand finally resting against Beca's hip again and squeezing. Holding. But it doesn't make Beca feel trapped. "Like, right now." Chloe's eyebrows lift a little and she pulls her lips together in an expression of sheepishness that's also somehow shyly challenging. "For example." And that floors Beca for a solid five seconds.

Because Chloe Beale is asking if she can kiss her. Not for the first time. And is acting coy about it. Like, excited teenager coy.

"Does later not work for you?" Beca's confidence is about as dependable as electrical tape. Sometimes it'll keep the connection and things will be great, others it'll lose it completely and the screen will be a devasating blank. Right now, it's holding together, but she knows that won't last. "Or maybe, like, tomorrow?"

"Is there somewhere else you need to be?" Chloe asks, right as her arm is curling around Beca's back and she's bodily pulling her closer across the bed. Beca lets out an undignified squeak and slaps a hand against Chloe's shoulder as she's taken. The other woman lets out a burst of excited giggles as Beca's forehead almost hits her nose, but then Chloe's brushing their legs together, tangling them and levelling Beca with a look that could set a hydrant on fire. "Is there somewhere else you'd rather be?" Beca doesn't need to think twice to know that the answer to both questions is no. Chloe tilts her head, angling her face towards Beca, but she doesn't lift it from the bed. "Maybe I can convince you to stay." She wants Beca to come to her.

Asks her to move by hooking a leg around Beca's calf, letting their thighs touch, and keeping the arm around her pressed tight against her back.

And Beca doesn't doubt Chloe's words, not for an instant, even though she doesn't seem sure herself. Because she knows what it's like to want to stay exactly where she is right now. What Chloe can do to make her want that. What little Chloe has to do to make her want that. Make that tight feeling in Beca's chest rupture to leak warmth through the rest of her body, relaxing tense muscles and slowing her thoughts. Slowing everything down right before Chloe lets go of the match and lights her up from the inside out.

"So," Beca's voice is hushed as she drops her head forward an inch and when she sees Chloe's response flash in sky blue eyes, something in Beca sparks early, "convince me."

And she should know better than to goad in such a way; Chloe never backs down from a challenge, and her reaction to Beca's thrown gauntlet is instantaneous. She's right there with a handful of matches that are already lit, lifting her shoulders from the bed just enough to catch Beca's lips and send the matches flying. Each one landing in a different spot.

At the small of her back, where Chloe's hand has flattened and they burn a hole through the base of her spine.

At the seam of her mouth, where they scorch lips into parting and ignite a line of fire that travels to all ends of her being.

At the lowest point in her gut, where they fall into a pool of something like gasoline, setting it aflame long before Beca thinks it probably should have.

She tries not to make a habit out of thinking too much though, during moments like these. Thinking, Beca has found, only gets in the way of things and her brain tends to become less and less capable of doing it anyway, the longer she spends losing herself in Chloe. A relatively new past time that she feels herself picking up once more. Or rather, sinking into.

Chloe just makes it so easy, with all of her confidence and the ease with which she pulls every string within her grasp. She could manipulate Beca like marionette if she wanted to and that knowledge isn't lost on the brunette. Beca is quickly gaining an understanding, or something that resembles one, of how helpless she becomes when huddled behind closed doors with Chloe. Pressed together like this, Chloe's mouth warm and inviting. Pulling at every inch of Beca until Chloe's lips part and Beca is helpless to do anything but give in, slipping further down as she meets that first firm sweep of a tongue with her own.

Chloe's breath whistles out in a sigh that Beca feels against her face and then the hand at her back is moving again. Stroking lazy lines wherever it can reach and Beca moves hers to rest at the hollow of Chloe's neck. The side of her thumb grazes the redhead's pulse point and Beca can feel the way it's wildly fluttering. And she's felt that before, how Chloe responds to her, but every time it's like a shot of adrenaline. Injected into the part of her brain responsible for handling her reflexes and instinctual reactions, sending everything shooting forward, too quickly for the rest of it to process.

And so Beca's pressing against Chloe's shoulder and urging her onto her back before the notion to do otherwise can occur to her. She shifts with the motion, because Chloe lets herself be guided without a fight, until Beca's hovering over her, forearm still braced against the mattress to hold herself up. Chloe leg, the one not nestled between Beca's, rises to bookend the brunette's hip and Beca jumps a little when she feels Chloe's fingertip drawing a line from her ear along the curve of her jaw.

"I scare you?" She hears the smirk in the other woman's words, feels the impression of it where their lips are still touching and ignores the immediate, thankfully internal, answer that springs to the forefront of her mind; "you terrify me".

"No." Beca manages to mutter, exasperation elongating the vowel. "Just surprised me." And she almost laughs, because Chloe's been doing that a lot lately. Languid, smiling kisses are peppered against Beca's lips in the interim and dark eyes close as she catches herself holding her breath. Waiting for something that she isn't aware she's waiting for, biding her time, until Chloe lingers a fraction of a second too long and then Beca's the one doing the surprising.

Her hand slinks up to grasp the side of Chloe's face, holding her in place as she licks deep into her mouth, relishing the short groan that vibrates low in Chloe's throat. She rests some of her weight against the body below her and tilts her head, changing the slant of her mouth and nipping at Chloe's lip before kissing her again. Long and slow, and as steadily as she can manage while the hand at her back and the one that's slid to the column of her neck keep clutching and slipping, dragging short nails along her spine and making her quake.

And as much as Chloe can throw her off balance, as much as she can undo fastenings that Beca knows she double-knotted, as much as she's actually learning to like those feelings, Beca knows she's more than capable of bringing all of that out in Chloe too. And she really likes the feeling that gives her. There's a tightening in the pit of her stomach and a brief, liquid coolness trickling through her chest, then she moves. Rolling her body over Chloe's and shifting her leg to lie higher between the redhead's thighs.

Chloe jerks herself roughly out of the kiss with a sharp moan that is drawn down from somewhere high at the back of her throat and the sight of her struggling to blink her eyes open makes Beca smile. And it's the way Chloe's looking at her now, all sultry surprise and breathless desire that darkens her eyes, that makes Beca feel bold. Makes her feel certain and sure, makes her feel okay. Makes her feel like she can do anything and it won't change a thing. Won't trip either of them up. It makes her feel a kind of excitement she isn't familiar with. It makes her feel wanted. Makes her feel sexy. Like she knows exactly what to do. What Chloe wants her to do.

And they've always had the kind of connection that allows them to communicate without speaking, but this horizontal spin on things is new and so Beca's surprised by how fluent they're becoming in one another's body language, and how quickly. She wonders if maybe she shouldn't be though. If she should just quit being surprised by anything when it comes to Chloe. Besides, the confidence that Chloe gives her makes Beca feel like doing the surprising for a change.

Gazes still locked, Beca uses her arm to give herself some leverage and presses her thigh into Chloe again with enough force to make certain the other woman knows exactly how intentional the movement is. The hand at her back drops down to grab Beca's hip, holding her firmly and at bay while the other fists reflexively and almost takes a chunk of skin from her neck. And Chloe gasps as she does this, mouth falling open in a blunt display of shock and wanton arousal that only serves to fuel Beca further. She drags her attention away from Chloe's face and dips her head, pressing a single, strong kiss to the curve of her neck as she bat's Chloe's hand out of the way so that she can grip the leg still bracketing one side of Beca, pulling at it as she rocks her thigh into Chloe again and opens her mouth against silken skin.

Chloe always smells just as good as she tastes, a fact that startles Beca whenever she remembers that she knows exactly how true it is. From experience. She reminds herself now, inhaling deeply as she drags open-mouthed kisses over Chloe's throat and feels the redhead's breath hitch, rattle and rasp. A strangled sound escaping at the press of Beca's leg.

"Bec-" the 'a' gets lost beneath another broken cry when Beca's teeth graze flesh and dark eyes roll back behind drooping lids at the sound. At the way fingertips dig into the muscle of her shoulder. Chloe's hips shift, angling up in a sharp motion that steals Beca's breath and her mouth opens soundlessly against Chloe's neck, body stiffening as she squeezes her eyes shut.

And it hurts, the heat that's racing through her, like a physical pain. One she's suddenly desperate to rid herself of, because there's no possible way she can stand it any longer. Like an itch that can't be reached or being tickled in a way that feels good but is almost too much to bear.

Only it isn't like that at all, because Beca knows what this is.

What it really is.

"It's okay." At first, she thinks it's in her head. The shaking timbre of Chloe's voice, reassuring her across time. But then she hears it again, feels the air around her stir as the words move through it. And they lift her head so that she can look at Chloe, whose pupils are blown and cheeks are flushed, and who looks as turned on as Beca feels. And that's a problem.

Because Chloe being very obviously into Beca and what Beca is doing unravels the already tenuously held together threads inside the brunette, a new but rapidly spreading trend, and Beca feels them as they're worked free.

"I know." This time when she kisses Chloe, something heavy sinks to the bottom of her stomach, pulling with it the shivers elicited by Chloe's fingers stroking along her neck. They trickle through her like water, warm and wet, and with every fervent pass of her tongue, Chloe's there. Spilling whimpers and reassurance into Beca's mouth and almost drawing blood when the hand against her leg slides down towards her backside and she nips a full lip in shock. A sound that's between a breath and a word leaves Chloe as Beca's hand grasps round flesh and she's forced to choke back a moan when hips jerk up to meet hers again.

Chloe's hand drifts along her side, pawing mindlessly as Beca kisses across her jaw line and then tips Chloe's head back with a persistent touch of her nose against the underside of the redhead's chin. She's reminded of the way Chloe's hands would often drift to her throat back when her nodes were giving her the most trouble, before the surgery as well as a little while after, and the kisses she leaves there are soft and delicate as she remembers.

She's almost at the hollow when Chloe palms the side of her breast through her shirt and her heart nearly flies out of her throat. It settles for trying to strangle her instead though and she's forced to drag air in through her nose as her body responds to the contact by surging forward. Or trying to; there isn't really anywhere for her to go except into Chloe and the hand Beca had smacked away curves around the base of her neck, clenching as her lips latches onto a patch of skin and she drags her teeth over it. And she should have learned her lesson, especially after rehearsal, but the line separating irrationality and reason has been kicked all to hell. Muddied and askew. And the way Chloe bucks against her is only making it harder to see. Her flames and her fire crawl over Beca, imprisoning her, blinding her.

"This helping you relieve some of that stress you were complaining about?" She pants against slick skin, cocky in a rare moment of bravery. Chloe groans at the disorientation in Beca's tone and shifts up sharply into her again.

"Not exactly." Her voice is husky and thick with arousal, her breathing shallow but edging towards rapid and when Beca rolls her hips forward, Chloe's high cry worries her for half a second because they do actually live in a house with other people. But then Chloe's swallowing hard under her lips and the hand at her neck is twitching strangely as it squeezes. "Beca," and it should throw up some kind of red flag, the way Chloe saying her name like that sends arousal pooling between her thighs, "I-" has her gripping Chloe's leg once more as she rocks into her again, "shit, Beca, I," and again. Chloe's fingers slip into her hair, tangling in dark tresses despite the ponytail and fisting, tugging until their cheeks are pressed together and she can hear the desperate, "Bec, Beca I-" as it breaks into a piercing gasp that hangs in the air like a deafening silence.

It eats up all the oxygen in the room, flames roaring to life around Beca for one eternal instant before they're snuffed out indefinitely and she feels Chloe's body stiffen and still. Fingers tightening in her hair until her scalp stings. Then Chloe shudders, her breath leaving her in one long exhale that the sound of Beca's rapid heartbeat almost drowns out. Her eyes are open, staring down into red curls, her face likely slack and expressionless. Until she feels Chloe's body sag a little and Beca manipulates her dry mouth enough to snare her bottom lip.

A quiet, contrite whisper breaks the silence and finds her ear.

"Shit."