Beca wakes slowly. Deep, steady breaths becoming more shallow as she blinks tired eyes open just long enough to take note of the early morning light brightening the room.
Beca wakes briefly, the lure of slumber proving to be too strong to resist and so she lets her body sink into the mattress, the warmth surrounding her enveloping her completely.
Beca wakes and it's to the feeling of warm puffs of air teasing the hair at the back of her neck. She quivers as her skin turns to gooseflesh, enjoys the way each shiver rolls over her, how it feels so good she almost has to pull away.
But she doesn't.
The memories don't all come rushing back to her at once, not exactly. She's first reminded of the night before when she adjusts her leg, bringing it down from where it's been bent at the knee and pulled towards her chest for most of the night. Her muscles protest, the flesh and blood version of a door with a rusted hinge being pushed open. Her brow furrows and she has just enough time to begin asking herself what on earth she did to land herself in such a state and then it all begins to trickle back in.
Chloe's hands, fingers, the unrelenting scrape of her teeth and the unbearable wet warmth of her mouth. The press of her tongue against Beca and the raw sounds of enjoyment that had left her while she worked Beca towards climax.
Understandably, the thoughts distract Beca from the breath still tickling her nape and so it takes her a little longer than it probably should for her to realise that Chloe is chuckling quietly behind her.
"What?" Her voice is groggy, still heavy with sleep, and she isn't quite able to hold back the gasp that escapes when the arm she hadn't realised was around her middle tightens. Pulls her closer to the body behind her.
"Mixing in your dreams again," Chloe answers, her lips brushing the very top of Beca's spine, and the only indication that she'd been asleep at all is in the slightly raspy quality of her words. As she speaks, her arm moves from around Beca's waist and she lifts her hand until her fingers are just touching Beca's elbow, then she slides her palm along her arm, over top of Beca's hand and laces their fingers together. Squeezes. "Your hands were twitching."
"Mm." Beca's hum is neutral, an acknowledgment, and silence creeps in after it, spreading comfortably across them as they lie together beneath a sheet that Beca - having woken briefly enough to wonder if it was a dream - remembers Chloe pulling over them in the middle of the night.
She's naked, hadn't even bothered to reach for clothes before falling asleep, and it's strange, she thinks. Because in the past, she'd always wanted to cover up right away, even if that meant throwing on a two-sizes-too-big t-shirt, and her sleep-addled brain wonders why it's different now. But then she smiles to herself, thinks about a shower stall during freshman year and how much has changed since then. Grown.
Chloe shifts behind her and Beca feels the soft skin of her thighs graze the backs of her legs. She inhales sharply, jumping a little, and Chloe's near-soundless laughter drifts over her shoulder.
Beca's whole body is letting her know just how much it had been overworked the night before, but there's an unmistakable, pleasant ache between her legs, and she's lying naked in Chloe's bed.
And it's fine.
It's okay.
She feels settled in a way she's never experienced before and she doesn't need to think about why that is.
She already knows.
They lie there in the easy silence, neither making any effort to move from where they're pressed together. Fingers still entwined, Chloe strokes her thumb across the back of Beca's hand, drawing lines and nonsensical shapes as far as she can reach. Whenever it skirts the webbing on the side of her palm, Beca hooks her thumb over Chloe's and traps it there. Holds it down until Chloe manages to wiggle it free and behind her Chloe giggles like it's the funniest thing in the world. Laughter erupts from her every time she's caught and she squeals like she isn't expecting it.
"You're such a dork," Beca says, after what has to be the fifteenth time.
"You love it," Chloe shoots back.
Beca doesn't deny it.
Chloe unwinds their fingers and Beca feels her roll away to stretch. Resists the urge to turn and watch, and when Chloe rolls back, she lies her hand at Beca's waist. Leaves it there for a few seconds before skimming the tips of her fingers up along Beca's side, the backs of her arms, and then across her shoulder blades until they begin moving rhythmically across what Beca knows are the blossoms of her tattoo.
She shivers again, licks her lips and then presses them together as she tries not to squirm. It's nice but it tickles, and as much as she wants Chloe to keep going, her body keeps trying to jerk her away. She doesn't let it.
"Did you sleep okay?" Chloe's question is murmured, a tad hesitant, and Beca knows she's asking about more than how restful her night was.
"Yeah," she tells her, hoping she sounds as sure as she feels, and there's more she wants to say but it's almost as though there's too much. All wrestling one another in order to be first out of the gate. "Did you?"
Chloe presses her lips to Beca's shoulder, smiles against her skin and says, "What do you think?"
Beca is managing to think about a lot of different things, all at the same time, including but not being limited to how soundly Chloe might have slept and why.
"I think," Beca pauses, bites her lip, considers and then, "it's probably rude to brag."
Chloe laughs again, tries to wiggle closer as she nuzzles the side of Beca's neck with her nose.
"And I think," Chloe peppers kisses as far along Beca's shoulder as she can reach without moving, "it's fine to brag a little now and again."
"Oh yeah?" Beca's entire body tingles.
"Totes," Chloe chirps and Beca would chuckle at the word if she wasn't being thoroughly distracted by Chloe's lips, still inking kisses into her skin. "Especially if you've earned it."
That sends a thrill through Beca. She feels its glittering warmth reach up from the ends of her toes to the tips of her ears and makes a decision, but pauses before acting on it. Gives herself time to wonder if Chloe will somehow look different now, before she takes a breath to prepare herself. The sheet rustles as she rolls over, not really caring if it slips lower than she would normally like, and then she's facing Chloe.
And Chloe looks the same as she always has; alive with a magnetised electricity, vibrant emotion painted across her features in a transparent mask, unable to hide a thing. Beautiful beyond reason.
Chloe has, Beca supposes, always looked a certain way to her.
Chloe isn't, Beca realises, something you can ever really prepare yourself for.
The hand that had previously been brushing the ink marks at Beca's shoulder has taken up a new position covering her sternum after Beca's own movements had caused it to drag there lazily. Rising and falling in time with Beca's breathing, it burns as it lays there, the skin beneath it feeling as though it's being worked over by a tattoo machine.
"And have I?" Beca asks, curving her fingers loosely around Chloe's wrist and letting her hand hang from it. "Earned it?"
For her part, Chloe seems momentarily dazed, caught by something that lowers her gaze enough that it's obvious she's having to drag it back up when Beca squeezes her wrist to get her attention. It makes Beca wonder how much of her body is on show, makes her feel something raw and untethered, and wanted. Sky-blue eyes regard her with a slowly growing comprehension and Beca bites at the corner of her lower lip, trying to hold in the smile that's threatening.
"I can't concentrate on anything you're saying until you cover your junk."
Happily, she fails.
"I think so," Chloe breathes, fingertips following the jutting line of Beca's collarbone. "All that hard work-"
"Wasn't that hard," Beca cuts in smoothly, almost laughing out loud at the thought of any part of the previous night being a chore. Inwardly proud of successfully being suave for once when she sees Chloe's eyes dart around bashfully. "Aside from not knowing what I was doing, I mean."
Chloe hums, thoughtful. Says, "Could have fooled me," before she slides her hand up over Beca's throat, the side of her neck, and into her hair. Beca's own hand falls away, floats down to rest in the dip above Chloe's hip overtop of the sheet, and she lets her eyes droop as Chloe's face gets closer. Inhales deeply through her nose as their knees knock together and Chloe nudges her leg between Beca's, just to put them that little bit closer. "Seemed to know exactly what-"
Beca closes the distance this time. Kisses Chloe soundly and without reservation, tongue teasing the seam of Chloe's lips after only a second or two and Beca sighs, heavy and content, when Chloe's mouth opens under hers.
There's a giddy joviality set to a constant simmer inside Beca and it bubbles with varying levels of intensity, a consistently pleasant ripple disturbed by bursts of excited energy. It had been there the night before, roiling through her as she'd touched Chloe and given herself over to a cocky, more confident version of herself that only Chloe has ever been able to bring out. She'd leaned into it, allowed herself to do exactly what she wanted. Left her mark on Chloe's skin without hesitation. Kissed and caressed Chloe in all the ways she'd been thinking about, and felt free and whole in a way she never had before. Still feels it now, hours later, as she fists the material covering Chloe's hip in her hand before she presses her palm flat against the middle of Chloe's lower back and tries to draw her closer.
Still feels it as Chloe's fingers slide into her hair and hold her head firmly enough that moving away would take effort, not that she'd dream of moving in a direction that would put any kind of distance between them.
Still feels it as Chloe's leg slips further between her own and they lie together in this perfect pocket of time they'd carved out for themselves.
Of course, perfection can't last forever. As much as she wants to remain, wants to saturate herself in Chloe and this moment, and in all the moments that came before this, all good things must come to an end.
The sound of the Bellas performing a near-deafeningly enthusiastic rendition of Rihanna's 'Bitch Better Have My Money' suddenly slices through the air and they jerk away from one another, startled, dazed and breathing hard. Chloe groans, rolling over and away from Beca in order to grab her phone and Beca shivers against the cool air that fills the newly vacant space between them. The noise stops and she hears the sound of Chloe dropping her phone back onto the nightstand, then Chloe is back, taking up an amount of personal space that would have made Beca twitch all the way down to her skeleton four years ago.
"Is that- why is that your alarm?" Beca asks, trying to work out which would be worse to wake up to; Chloe's chosen ringtone or the sound of an entire herd of sheep screaming in unison.
Chloe's smile is so wide it makes the corners of her eyes crinkle.
"Because it makes me happy," she tells Beca, as though it's obvious, "and being happy is a good way to start the day."
"You sound like an afterschool special." Beca's teasing earns her a very stern poke to the nose, which she then wrinkles and rubs the end of.
"Do you remember the night we recorded that?" Chloe's hand crawls across the bed, rests itself lightly on Beca's forearm.
Beca furrows her brow, thinks back and finds things a little hazy. "Kind of?"
"It was at Jesse's birthday party. He kept insisting that you drink every time he drank, because-"
"It's my birthday and you have to do what I say," Beca's imitation isn't anywhere near accurate, but it makes Chloe laugh.
"Yeah." Her face softens as Beca watches. "You looked so happy."
Something tickles the back of Beca's ribs at the thought of Chloe paying her such close attention.
"Is my resting bitchface really so bad that it's noteworthy when I don't look like I'm trying ward off all other humans?" She knows how her face looks when she isn't consciously aware of what it's doing; it's fine. It worked out great for her in high school.
"No, no." Chloe pauses in her rush to reassure and Beca can see the exact moment she realises that she can't really do that without lying. She grimaces regretfully, a silent, 'yeah, okay, it is,' that Beca rolls her eyes at. "You just… I don't know. You get this look when you're really in the moment. When you forget other people are around and let go. Be silly or whatever." Chloe's fingers tap out a silent rhythm across the dainty bones of Beca's wrist. "I just remember thinking that you looked really happy. You had this… glow. You were stunning."
The tips of Beca's ears are hot. They grow warmer the longer Chloe spends simply looking at her and she wants to clear her throat and make a joke, but everything inside and around her feels thick and slow to move. The genuine sincerity in Chloe's voice forms a lump in Beca's throat that she has trouble swallowing around and these things combined leave her floundering, speechless.
"Don't get all soft on me now," Beca jokes, as though Chloe isn't already the consistency of melted butter, and she's certain her cheeks have turned a deep shade of pink, but Chloe doesn't say anything. She just smiles, special and serene, and Beca thinks she would gladly spend the rest of her days right here in this bed.
"I should get up." Chloe groans like that's the very last thing she wants to do. "Finish packing," her eyes flick meaningfully to Beca's and with a hint of happy slyness, "since I didn't get to last night." She stretches an arm up and runs her fingers through her hair, trying to tame messy perfection. "Don't want to miss my flight."
To say that Beca's stomach drops is not an entirely accurate summary of what happens in the wake of Chloe's words. It plummets, weighted by an anchor that pulls her heart down with it, and sinks into the freezing cold pond water at her feet. Spreads its ice through the rest of her and, really, she isn't sure what else she'd been expecting.
"Right." She feels numb, suddenly. "Right, because that's still," she pauses, swallows, rewords, "that's happening today."
She hadn't forgotten Chloe was leaving, hadn't assumed today would go any differently because of last night, but there's a part of her that had been hoping they'd somehow be afforded more time. She doesn't begrudge Chloe going home, wants her to finally spread her wings a little wider than Barden's breadth, but she also wouldn't be upset if Chloe's flight ended up cancelled until tomorrow.
Or next week.
She is, she supposes, still not quite ready to say goodbye. But then, she isn't sure that day would come even if she had a decade or more to prepare for it. It's not something that was ever going to be easy and it's something she's been dreading, but the day has arrived and there are only a few hours between that inevitable moment and the one they're in now. And Beca shouldn't be any more disappointed by this than she was yesterday, but she is.
"Think I'll shower first," Chloe says and she looks like she wants to say something else, chews her lip like there's something other than leaving this bed on her mind and Beca holds her breath. Waits as Chloe releases her lip and opens her mouth to speak. "Unless you want to?"
Beca lets the air from her lungs billow out with a careful languidness that she's confident hides her disappointment and flashes a quick smile.
"All yours."
Doesn't look too closely at the double meaning of her words.
Chloe sits up and the sheet falls away, pooling around her waist in burnt-orange ripples, and maybe it's because of the way the light hits her that Beca invisions her as some kind of mythical creature - a siren or a mermaid - breaching the surface of a sea that's reflecting the light of a rising sun. Or perhaps a setting one, since that's more fitting. Beca invisions this and then shakes her head at herself, feeling foolish for entertaining such a lovestruck thought. 'Sap-tastic,' as Jesse might say.
Chloe sits up and Beca's eyes roam the expanse of pale skin being unashamedly bared in front of her, and she remembers how it had felt to touch and to taste. Remembers the night before as a series of fragmented moments, disjointed by passion but no less clear because of that. No, she remembers everything. The sights, smells, the rush of nerves and waves of confidence. She remembers feeling happy and hearing the gratifying click of certain things finally slotting into place.
She remembers wondering, just before sleep had taken her, if she'd ever get the chance to be here like this with Chloe again.
And she wonders that again now, watching as Chloe scans the room, searching for something while idly scratching at the back of her head. She seems to find what she's looking for inside her closet - door open like always, though decidedly less bulging at the hinges than Beca is used to seeing it, most of the clothes having been packed away - stands and, still very naked, walks over to it. She appraises herself in the mirror hanging on the back of the door, running her fingers along the slope of her neck and the marks that have reddened the skin.
"I don't think I have enough concealer for all of these." She catches Beca's eye in the reflection and smirks. "Someone got a little carried away."
Beca flushes but doesn't look away.
"Considering I'm pretty positive it's not just my neck that's going to be covered in hickeys, I really don't think you have a leg to stand on here, Chlo."
Chloe tips her head back and sends out a burst of laughter towards the ceiling. She doesn't argue anything, though. Just goes back to looking through the meager offerings in her closet as Beca's gaze wanders to the legs that Chloe is currently standing on. Not without first travelling over the rest of her, however.
Desire flares, twisting like twin ropes of molten glass inside her, and she decides a distraction might be the best course of action here, so she sits up to give herself something to do. Keeps the sheet closer now, tucked under her armpits, and scoots back to lean against the headboard. When she looks over at Chloe again it's just in time to see her pull an already fastened button-down shirt over her head. Patterned in blue plaid, it hangs low in the front but still only just brushes the mid point of Chloe's thighs.
Beca blinks.
"Is that mine?" She cocks her head to the side like a curious puppy.
"Hmm?" Chloe turns but doesn't look at her and Beca straightens, brow furrowed in accusation.
"Is that my-" she narrows her eyes, "that's my shirt!"
"It is?" Chloe runs her fingers over the fastenings like she's inspecting it. "Are you sure?"
"I mean, I haven't seen it in, like, a year," and now she knows why, "but yeah, I'm pretty sure." She watches Chloe bend to retrieve something out of her open suitcase - underwear maybe? Beca isn't looking at her hands - and asks, "Is it missing a button on the front?"
Chloe stands, glances down at the shirt and doesn't answer. She walks by the bed but doesn't meet Beca's gaze and Beca, assuming the best in people, thinks Chloe hasn't heard her.
"I said, is it-" Beca cuts herself off when she realises that Chloe just isn't listening. "Chloe!"
"Sorry," she shoots Beca a dazzling smile, "I really have to shower. Bee-are-bee, Becs!" And, light on her feet, practically dances out of the room.
Biting back on her chagrin, Beca exasperatedly shuffles back down against the mattress and throws her head onto the pillow. She huffs out an annoyed breath and closes her eyes.
Then, slow like the rising sun, a smile starts to spread. It grows until it can't anymore and Beca pulls the sheet up over her head in an attempt to contain her excitement and keep it from exploding everywhere. She manages, mostly, turning her head into the pillow to smother her grin.
There's a happy kind of nervous energy running through her, making her pulsepoint jump and her palms sweat a little, and there's a dreamlike quality to everything that she knows is going to fade soon but isn't ready to let go of yet. Wants to keep clutched tightly in both hands until her gut feeling tells her that Chloe's plane is in the air and only then will she deal with the fallout.
For now, though? For now, Beca is going to lie quietly beneath the bedsheet with her face pressed into the pillow and breathe in the scent of Chloe's shampoo.
She makes it into and out of the shower without major incident. Although, there is a second where she's too busy admiring the marks Chloe has left on her body that she almost slips, but she manages to catch the handhold in time to stop from falling backwards and then laughs at herself.
Standing naked beneath the spray and dragging lines of soapsuds over her body, it's hard not to think about the way Chloe had touched her the night before. How she wants Chloe to touch her like that again. But she pushes it down as far as she can manage and wraps a towel around herself as she steps out of the shower and then stands, hair dripping onto the bathmat as she stares at her foggy, barely visible reflection in the mirror. She hadn't looked any different before the shower and can't imagine she looks any different now, but she feels it. Feels the way things have shifted inside her, like a metamorphosis of the soul.
After dressing, she heads downstairs and finds Chloe stretched out across the living room couch - back against one armrest, feet touching the other - sipping on a cup of tea while she balances a plate on her lap. There's a half-eaten piece of toast still sitting on it, layered with strawberry jam like she isn't sweet enough, and she looks up from her phone as Beca enters her periphery.
"Hey you," Chloe says and it's only two words, but when they're followed by Chloe straightening and smiling at Beca like it's been a month since they've seen each other, well. Beca doesn't want to say that her heart outright stops, but it definitely flutters dangerously.
"Hey." Her smile is probably too wide for her face and she feels kinda dumb just standing there in the entryway staring, but Chloe doesn't seem to mind. Stares right back until Beca clears her throat and announces that she's going to grab something to eat.
'Something' happens to be cereal, because she's too impatient to wait for anything else, and when she walks back into the living room her pace is a little quicker than it probably should be, resulting in her cursing quietly as milk sloshes over the side of the bowl.
Chloe has made room on the couch by pulling her legs towards her chest and Beca settles into the now vacant spot beside her as Chloe chews on the last of her toast. There's a streak of jam at the corner of her mouth and the urge to reach out and wipe it away rises in Beca unbidden, but she's beaten to the punch and ends up watching as Chloe's tongue snakes out to lick the spot clean. She averts her eyes back to the bowl in her hand as Chloe leans over to set the plate on the coffee table, but she's pretty sure Chloe is smiling.
"Guess you won't have to hide the cereal anymore," Chloe jests, nudging her toe into Beca's thigh.
"If you animals would just respect the unwritten rule of 'didn't buy it, don't eat it,' there would never have been a problem." Beca drags the back of her hand across her mouth to wipe away a few drops of milk and arches an eyebrow at Chloe.
Chloe hums, narrowing her eyes conspiratorially before drawling out, "Speaking of eating…."
Beca chokes, accidentally inhaling her mouthful of mush, and almost sprays soggy crumbs halfway across the room. Chloe bursts out laughing but scoots closer, taking the bowl from Beca before her coughing fit can cause a spill and places it next to her plate. She claps a hand against Beca's back a few times, between her shoulder blades, and leaves it there to rub small circles as Beca begins to catch her breath.
"Oh my god, Chloe," she rasps, brushing her fingers along the undersides of her eyes to catch the tears rolling down her cheeks. Chloe is managing to laugh at her and coo concernedly at the same time, and it's like nothing has changed between them.
They still look and act like the same people they were yesterday morning and maybe that shouldn't be something that makes Beca feel uncertain. Maybe she should be marvelling at how easy this is, rather than worrying about what the lack of difficulty means.
"Gonna make it?" Chloe eventually asks and Beca zeroes in on the way her hand stills momentarily as she speaks.
"No thanks to you."
"Hey, I did the thing!" She taps her hand against Beca's back again. "And you didn't choke to death. I feel like I'm not getting the credit I deserve here." Chloe's hand drifts up then, high enough to tease the hairs at the nape of her neck.
"For saving me from being murdered… by you?" Beca tilts her head to look at Chloe fully. Chloe makes sure her hand stays where it is.
"I didn't even say anything," Chloe argues, scratching lightly with her nails now. "It's not my fault your mind is permanently guttered."
"Actually, it is," Beca shoots back, eyelids fluttering for a moment. She glances askance at Chloe. "I know what you're trying to do."
Chloe's eyebrows rise, innocent, questioning, but the motion of her fingers never ceases.
"And what's that?"
"Distract me so I forget about that whole murder thing."
"So cynical, Becs. Can't I just want to make our last morning a nice one?" And there it is, the inevitable reminder of which day they're currently living and that the hour that's been looming over their heads for the past few weeks is now rapidly approaching. Chloe's hand stills and comes to rest at the top of Beca's spine. "Is it working?"
Beca rolls her eyes and looks down at her bowl. She nods, more to herself than Chloe, looking down to remove some unseen lint from her jeans.
"What, um, what time is your cab…?" she trails off, not really wanting to finish the question. Chloe picks up her phone and checks the time.
"About an hour."
"All packed?"
"Yeah, I just need to bring everything down."
"Cool. Cool beans." Beca lifts her hands to rub them over her face in frustration and tosses herself heavily against the backrest of the couch. "I don't know why I said that. I've literally never said that before." She drags her palms down her cheeks and sighs, turns her head towards Chloe as she drops her hands back into her lap. "Sorry."
"You don't have to…." Chloe's brow furrows and, like so many times before, Beca gets the feeling that Chloe is looking right through her. Not in a dismissive way, never that. No, it's more like she's regarding Beca like an open book that she's already read a hundred times and knows which words belong on which pages. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." The answer comes too quickly, despite it being the truth, and Chloe's frown pulls down on Beca's heartstrings as it deepens. She hurries to fix this before it can show signs of breaking. "Really, I am. I guess I just…." She reaches up to press her fingertips to her forehead, rubbing them across it with increasing pressure, like she's attempting to rid herself of a headache by trying to force it out of the other side of her skull. "Don't really know how to talk about it."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Chloe's eyes are wide, open and honest, and they give nothing away. They only tell Beca that whatever she says right now, Chloe will be okay with it.
"Don't you?"
Chloe exhale carefully and bobs her head, tucking her curls behind her ears before saying, "Yeah. I mean, it was…."
"Nice," is the option Beca supplies her with.
It is not what she had been preparing to say. Not what she'd expected to leave her mouth. And the blink-and-you'll-miss-it downward curve of Chloe's mouth makes her want to reach out and yank the words back. Only, they're out there now, and nothing that escapes can ever truly be put away like they were never free.
"Um." Chloe glances down at where the fingers of her right hand are playing with those belonging to the left and Beca watches, chest tightening, as Chloe huffs a laugh that leans heavily toward self-deprecating. It's like watching the very last of the water swirl down a drain.
"That's not, I didn't mean it like-"
"It's okay." And the worst part is that Chloe smiles at Beca like it is. Reaches over to grasp Beca's hand and squeezes it like it is.
Like everything is okay.
Like nice is exactly what it was.
And it had been, Beca thinks, but it had also been so much more.
She thinks back to that morning, back to the easy silence and the press of warm bodies, and Beca knows she wants that again. Wants to relive those minutes with Chloe in as many ways as she'll let her. For as long as she'll let her. And she knows that it was more than just a fun, one-night-stand type of thing - she knows, she does, she'd felt it - but Beca isn't sure what exactly any of this means to Chloe.
Had last night simply been a nice bookend to what they've been doing - and what have they been doing, Beca wants to ask, because there's a difference between experimenting, fooling around, and falling in love - something meaningful but ultimately a one-off? Has it already been relegated to something that they'll bring up over drinks a decade from now and laugh about?
Because Beca doesn't feel like laughing.
Beca feels like her chest has been gradually pried open in the time since Chloe first reminded her she'd be catching a flight today and now the bones are starting to crack under the pressure.
"I just don't want you to think that it wasn't-"
"I don't." Chloe smooths things over with a smile.
You're not listening, Beca wants to say, let me try and explain.
"Last night was…." Chloe pauses, brushes her thumb across Beca's knuckles as she considers her words. "Last night meant a lot to me." Brings her other hand over and is holding Beca's between both of hers now, thumbs rubbing parallel lines over her tendons and up past her wrist. "Probably more than you'll ever understand."
Try me, Beca wants to yell, I dare you. Instead, she turns her hand over so that Chloe's thumbs are tracing the lines in her palms.
"It meant a lot to me, too, Chloe." She's surprised but pleased to hear the sound of her own voice but the curve of Chloe's mouth suggests a measure of disbelief that Beca isn't certain she'll be able to wipe away before Chloe leaves. Isn't sure how to.
She catches both of Chloe's hands in her own then, holds them tight and stares into eyes that glitter like a sunrise over the ocean. And Beca has never been one for religion, but in that moment she prays to anything listening that Chloe understands. That she can see what Beca can't find the words to say.
Chloe slips a hand free from grasping fingers and lifts it to Beca's cheek, anchoring her in place or maybe drawing her forward into a kiss, Beca can't quite tell. Can't quite bring herself to care once Chloe's lips are on hers.
It's soft and slow, but heavy all the same and she hears herself whimper as Chloe's tongue moves against her own with what is by now well practised precision. Embers are stoked, the thrill of heated pleasure glissades along Beca's spine and she's pressing into Chloe, hands gripping, pulling, holding. It feels exciting and right, and there's an edge of desperation to it that makes her ache all the way down to her bones.
And oh.
This feels like a goodbye.
Chloe breaks the kiss but doesn't pull away. She rests her forehead against Beca's and keeps her eyes closed as Beca's open and she flicks her gaze over Chloe's features. Drawn, a little pained, agonised as she chews her lower lip and then breathes out, "I love you."
Everything stops.
Time grinds to a shuddering halt and something kicks the floor out from under her, but she doesn't fall. She floats. For who knows how long, weightless and free. Happy. Chloe's hand is still at her cheek and Beca wraps her fingers solidly around a dainty wrist, squeezing.
It's all come together like a stained glass window. Separate pieces, all intricate in their own way, lovingly crafted over hours and days and weeks, to ensure a perfect fit into a larger frame already occupied by another and then secured together by something stronger than the pieces would be on their own. Something that can catch the light in a hundred different ways and reveal a new side to its beauty.
Something that can, unfortunately, crack and shatter.
"I should go get my things." Chloe says, rising without looking at Beca, whose hands fall away like lead weights.
"Okay." It comes out weak and uncertain, and it's all Beca says.
She doesn't ask if Chloe needs help.
Doesn't ask her to wait.
Doesn't say 'I love you' back.
But she does wait until she can hear the telltale creak of someone walking on the stairs before exhaling loudly, shaky and wet, like she's about to cry.
She drops her head into her hands and presses the heels of her palms into her eyes.
This wasn't how things were supposed to end.
Okay, friends. I don't want to drop things on anyone unexpectedly, so… I think the next chapter will probably be the last, with the exception of an epilogue. I'm going to save all the mushy stuff for after the final chapter, but I want you to know that your support over the years has meant an enormous amount to me. It cannot be quantified. I hope that by the time we're getting off on the last stop of this journey, it'll have been worth the ride. 3