I wrote this one-shot for the prompt: "Welcome To My Nightmare" (Halloween Edition)
A response to the Halloween prompt 2022. My third piece of writing, but the first to be published because of its position on the prompt list of pitch-perfect-spookfest.

NOTE: Anna Kendrick getting stuck in an elevator experience inspired this story. Elevators are safe to ride and don't crash, I know. ;) A complete cable failure (very improbable) would result in a fall of just a few feet before the elevator's safety mechanisms would kick in. But for the sake of Halloween and Horror, I wrote this. ;)

HER SURVIVAL OVER MINE

'There are approximately 900,000 elevators in the United States, and the odds of getting stuck in an elevator are 1 in every 100,000 elevator rides.'

That should have been the first sign not to take this elevator. Here, in Athens, Greece, thousands of miles away from home.

"Good thing I'm not in the US now," Beca chuckled cynically as she skimmed through the article in her feeds and mumbled under her breath, "Don't freak out, Beca Mitchell," she reminded herself. "You can do this!"

She had an appointment with a famed record producer who might significantly boost her career if they hit it off, he liked her music, and she impressed him. Actually, that wasn't the scariest aspect of the whole situation.

But the music studio was on the 22nd floor.

Seeing that her phone's battery was at 10%, she pressed the side button before putting it back in her purse. Then she noticed another thing and had to double-check. She recovered and unlocked her iPhone.

She had no signal.

Again, she disregarded the sense of foreboding and told herself that she was just scared to ride the elevator to her doom. Her claustrophobia might also be triggered, which was another frightening prospect. Turning her phone off, she threw it back in her purse, waiting for a miracle.

What kind of people even worked on the 22nd floor? Let's say there's a technical issue: Do they have to use the stairs to go to work? Not at all; in fact, there were other elevators accessible—six in total, as far as she could see. And what were the odds that all of them would malfunction at the same time?

"Sorry, but the parking conditions here are awful," came the cheery voice from the entrance, followed by a grinning face and brilliant blue eyes directed at Beca. "You ready?"

"Not at all."

Chloe's gaze shifted from Beca to the placards listing the floor-specific companies. "Where is it located?"

Her sunglasses were perched atop her head, which she plucked off and tossed into her purse. Chloe sported the new azure-colored sundress with a floral pattern she had recently purchased and white sandals. Beca also wore a flowery sundress; however, hers had a different cut and color, in yellow. The redhead always managed to outshine Beca in terms of fashion, regardless of the occasion. Luckily, they were best friends and could provide each other with advice in this department.

"22nd floor. I'ma throw up," Beca said, grimacing as she held her stomach.

In NYC, Beca shared a compact one-bedroom apartment with Chloe and Fat Amy on the seventh floor. And Beca avoided using the elevators like the plague. For the past three years, she had insisted on using the stairs instead of the elevators, regardless of how long it would take. She told herself that, this way, she didn't need to exercise every day and that she could therefore decline Chloe's offer to go running with her without feeling bad about it. Chloe, who was fit and didn't need to work out, still kept up her regular schedule of twice-weekly runs anyhow.

And not only did the redhead not have claustrophobia, but she even sought out the ride to the top to experience the thrill from a higher level. Because she's insane.

She rubbed her hands together. "That's exciting. Let's go," she proclaimed.

Reluctantly, Beca trailed after her best friend to the elevator lobby and watched as the redhead punched the button. A short time later, one of the cars arrived. When Chloe noticed that Beca was hesitating, she grabbed her arm. Chloe assumed control at that point, pushed the button designated for the 22nd floor, and then leaned back against the wall, cool as a cucumber.

"It'll be over quickly," Chloe said, chuckling. "By the way, I think Andrew has a thing for you."

Beca understood that Chloe was solely trying to divert her attention away from the increasing oppressiveness of the room's stifling atmosphere. Away from the fact that she was starting to perspire heavily, that her eardrums clicked shut, and that her respiration was quickening because the walls were closing in on her.

"Who's Andrew?"

"Our room neighbor. From the hotel?" Chloe said, winking.

"Beats me. Why would he have a thing for me?" Beca asked. "Hmm, or let's say, that's all Greek to me," she commented warily as she delivered her pun. "Get it? Because we're in Greece."

"Your puns are like broken elevators," Chloe retorted with a smirk, "they never let me down."

They giggled until the elevator halted on the 6th level, and a middle-aged man dressed in a suit, trimmed beard, and a crimson necktie, entered. He gazed up at the display above them and exited two floors higher.

"He could've walked those two levels," Beca remarked with an eyeroll.

"Maybe you should've given him a–" Chloe said, smirking again, "–step-by-step guide."

"You're weird on so many levels," Beca drawled, feeling lame. But it essentially helped her relax.

A pregnant lady with her boyfriend, a bulky dude with a patterned jumper, and an elderly male joined them on the 13th floor. Beca walked back to where Chloe was. It was already thin on the 15th floor, especially if her mind was telling her that oxygen was scarce to begin with. And now that so many people were huddling here, they were practically sucking it right out of her.

She felt a squeeze on her hand, and her slightly taller friend looked at her, smiling softly. "Try to breathe, Beca."

"Really, Captain Obvious? I am breathing fine," she hissed, balling her fists tight and close to panicking. In fact, she was breathing fast enough that the oxygen didn't fill her lungs because her body decided that the best thing to do in this situation was to start hyperventilating.

Just as Chloe did back then as the Bella leader during their vocal warmups, she lifted her palm up and down in front of Beca in a rhythmic and regular motion to assist her settle her breathing. Chloe cupping Beca's cheek to make her focus only on her also helped her to forget the cramped space she was standing in.

Beca's vertigo subsided as a result. Her panic was gone.

Chloe kissed her cheek, giggling. "You're doing great."

*,*,*

Beca would have kissed the floor she stepped on once they reached their designated level. She took a long breath in and instantly felt the tension leaving. And her eyes widened as she saw Chloe make her way to the window, to stare outside and watch the scenery from the 22nd level.

"Beca, come here!" she squealed excitedly. "Look how beautiful that looks."

"You're fucking kidding me, right?" Beca yelled. "I'm not gonna look out that fucking window!"

She focused on her tasks during her meeting with the record producer. Chloe was allowed to wait in the waiting area, where she could obtain coffee and food and use the Wi-Fi if she wanted to. To pass the time, she brought a book. She waited for Beca to wrap off her job for a total of four hours.

Chloe thought it would be a good idea to provide Beca with moral support by traveling with her to Europe to meet with a few record producers, so she went on the trip under the guise that it would be a vacation. The two would go to the companies together, where Chloe would eagerly wait for Beca to emerge from the building and greet her with her customary glee. She was like a puppy that wasn't permitted into the building, happy to see its owner and wagging its tail.

Feeling horrible about the situation, Beca had advised Chloe to go sightseeing or shopping instead as she waited. Considering this was the last client Beca would have to deal with, they could finally enjoy their remaining vacation days together. Chloe offered to wait up for her instead of trying to contact her later on with her dying iPhone since Beca had no idea how long the business transaction would take. And Chloe stated that going shopping all by herself was not a fun activity, anyway.

Toward the end of the day, Beca exited the recording studio.

"Let's grab some food," Beca announced, relieved, "It's on me."

Chloe, clearly overjoyed, planted a kiss on her cheek. They discussed the outcome of the meeting with the prospective customer, as well as Beca's responsibilities and the desired aesthetic of the music she was to create.

Upon entering the elevator, Chloe continued her rambling monologue in an effort to divert Beca's attention; she even seemed thrilled as she described her time while waiting for Beca.

With her vivid descriptions and insightful commentary, Chloe has the uncanny ability to make even the most mundane topics seem interesting. Yet, listening closely, Beca extracted that Chloe had launched a new App game about rebuilding pet shelters and medically treating pets. Beca replied that Chloe basically performed her real-life vet job as a game. They laughed together, and it did help Beca forget where she was.

Until there was a loud squealing sound, and the elevator halted with a clunk.

"What's that?" Beca asked, her heart skipping a beat as she stared at the display to see where they stopped. The screen blinked, flashing level 15, and going out.

"Maybe it's nothing," Chloe said calmly. As so, she pressed the button labeled "Ground Floor" again, which was equivalent to the "First Floor" in the U. S. However, the first level was the ground floor in Europe. Beca's internal monologue reverberated with her repeated questioning of why Americans were so special.

There wasn't an emergency button, Beca noticed with horror while pressing all the elevator switches. And the next thing she noticed was that the air con shut off, and breathing became more arduous as panic took over.

She felt Chloe's hands on her shoulders, spinning her around. "Relax! If you freak out, it'll get worse."

The moment Beca began breathing slowly, Chloe released her grip on her.

"My phone died earlier," Chloe stated, still calm, still not panicking. "And yours?"

Beca retrieved her iPhone from her purse and turned it on. "9% now. But no reception," she said, feeling her stomach tightening. "What if nobody is in the building anymore? What if we have to stay here? What if we starve to death?"

"Beca, seriously? You're trying to imagine that now?"

Chloe took Beca's phone, holding it up to search for a reception. But without success. She returned it to Beca, and after fifteen minutes, when still nothing happened, she banged against the door, yelling for help. After ten minutes without a response from somewhere, she slumped down. Beca tried the same for the next ten minutes. Still no response.

She lowered herself to the ground and leaned against the wall opposite Chloe.

"Welcome to my nightmare," Beca grumbled.

*,*,*

Since neither Beca nor Chloe had any other means of knowing the time, Beca turned her phone to airplane mode to preserve battery life and check how long they'd been there. Another hour had long passed.

They hammered on the walls and door again, trying to shout for help as loud as they could. Nothing.

"What building has–" she wondered and scanned the buttons on the elevator panel, "–thirty floors, six elevators but no emergency buttons?"

"We're just unlucky," Chloe said with an uncertain smile, trying to keep her composure by smiling, but Beca could see it was crumbling.

The next half hour passed, with neither of them breaking their silence. Due to the cramped confines of the elevator, their heels brushed even when they were with their backs against opposite walls. Chloe was getting bored waiting, so she decided to kick Beca in the feet. Beca retaliated. As this continued for a few minutes, Chloe eventually kicked Beca hard enough to hurt her, and the two stopped kicking each other.

"Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Beca exclaimed, rubbing her shin in agony.

"I'm sorry," Chloe said, covering her mouth in shame.

Increasingly frustrated, they sighed and spent the next fifteen minutes gazing blankly ahead, scanning the room for an escape way. They tried repeatedly slamming on the elevator's door and hammering against it, looking for a hidden emergency button, and screaming for help. Again, and again.

Beca sagged back down, legs spread, unconcerned that her garment no longer stay in place. After all, it was just Chloe sitting opposite her. In contrast to Beca, Chloe cared about her body posture, as seen by her straight upper body while she sat in the side saddle position—like a lady. Chloe had been staring at her for ten minutes, leaning her head against the wall behind her and heaving intermittent sighs.

"What?" Beca demanded, growing exasperated at her best friend's constant stare.

Chloe didn't respond; she simply stared. The two engaged in a staring contest for the next fifteen minutes, straight-faced, during which Chloe's face blurred and blended into the background behind her while Beca saw no other colors but those blue hues in Chloe's eyes.

Chloe started laughing first. With a smile, Beca exclaimed triumphantly, "Suck it, you psycho! I won!"

To kill time, Chloe proposed playing the "10 Questions" game as a bit of entertainment. All that was required was for them to ask each other anything and give each other honest answers. Kind of like, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas—except they were in Greece. In other words: anything should remain a secret between them. And the one who fails or refuses to answer, loses.

In retrospect, they could have played this inane game in their hotel room while drunk and bored, but instead, they had talked about the Bellas, in particular, Aubrey's upcoming wedding, and Stacie becoming a mother.

Beca couldn't think about something she didn't know about her best friend. They had lived in the same sorority house back in college, moved in together in their apartment in NYC, and had been inseparable for as long as Beca could remember. Was there even anything she didn't know about Chloe that she wanted to find out? And the same for Chloe. Beca had practically told her everything.

Second, they must treat what they say like a confession. As though their time together was their last.

The gravity of the thought made Beca choke up.

"I start," Chloe said. Beca, rolling her eyes as Chloe gestured for her to sit beside her, crawled to her best friend, dragging her purse behind her. Wasn't like she had anything better to do. "Did you ever have anal sex?" she asked like she was asking Beca what the purpose of life was.

Beca chuckled while concealing her discomfort at the boldness of the inquiry since she had in no way expected to be asked sexual questions. But, on the other hand, this was Chloe. She considered with amusement that Chloe had always been a dirty little bird.

"No!" she exclaimed hastily, "that's… no. Never. Gross. I'd never get a dude near my tushy. Why? You?"

"No, me neither," Chloe replied. "But Tom always wanted to try. I just never wanted to."

"Hm. Okay," Beca said, moving on from the topic. Just the thought of it made her feel uncomfortable. "Which of your habits did your exes hate?"

Blue eyes searching her memories, Chloe tapped her chin thoughtfully with her index finger. "Remember when I'm nervous, I bite my nails? I clip them short to avoid it, but I sometimes still do that. And… that I talk to myself when I'm thinking aloud? And my constant overreacting. And one of them hated that I tapped my fingers, like, on every surface."

Beca nodded, considering that since they had been living together, she had become used to Chloe's quirks and found them about the redhead rather endearing. As if Chloe could become so immersed in something that she blocked out the rest of the world. On the other hand, Beca may be biased since Chloe was her best friend.

"Do you think I have any annoying habits?" Chloe inquired with interest.

"Seriously, dude, I wouldn't know where to start," Beca said facetiously, shaking her head in disbelief.

Chloe laughed and pushed her.

"Okay, my turn," Chloe said after a moment. She turned to look at Beca, her eyes looking soft. "What will you never forget about me?"

"Uff…" Beca saw that Chloe was rather adept at the game since it looked like she was capable of switching between questions Beca was feeling uncomfortable with and asking insightful questions. They were challenging to reply to and had the potential to eventually result in Beca losing the game. Great strategy, Beale! "Let me think," Beca said, "Perhaps it's not so much the things you did for me, but rather... how you made me feel when you did them. Or how you made me feel from the start."

She remembered how annoyed she had been with Chloe since the exuberant redhead had walked nude into her shower stall back in college—resulting in Beca's subsequent sexual confusion, which she had never told her, since it was just temporary.

Beca intended her statement as a criticism, but Chloe took it in a more positive vein, as seen by the sparkle in her eyes.

"So, you mean when we showered together once?" she asked like she could read Beca's thoughts.

"We never showered together, you psycho!" Beca exclaimed in utter disbelief. In what universe is this woman living, she pondered. "I mean, that kinda started from there. I felt harassed until I gave in to you, you know? And you forced me to sing your lady jam with you, like, all nude." She covered her face, feeling embarrassed at the memory. "It was like you took my virginity."

Chloe laughed hard, holding her belly as she fell back against the wall from all that laughter. Suddenly, she stopped caring about maintaining a demure exterior.

"Then my question is," Chloe said as her laughter subsided, wiping a tear away, "have you been attracted to me when you saw me naked?" She chuckled again, appearing guilty and flushing a little—maybe intending to be teasing. But Beca wanted the ground to open and swallow her up alive.

It caused her cheeks to flush, and she averted her gaze. Honest answers were required, and players were to lose the game for not providing them. And thinking of this moment as if it were indeed her last opportunity to tell Chloe the truth before she died, she owed it at least to herself.

"Damn it," Beca groaned, pulling her legs up to hug them. Holding her dress in place, she pressed her face against her knees. "It was just a stupid phase. Yeah, I was crushing on you at some point. Argh! I hate this game!"

"What?"

"Come on, let's move on," Beca said quickly, trying to come up with a question that would also embarrass the redhead.

"I felt the same about you."

Beca pressed her lips shut. The words were stuck in her throat. Heat rose to her ears. She didn't dare stare away from the interesting dirt spot on the wall. Didn't dare look at Chloe. Sure, she only imagined that. Chloe didn't really say that.

Clearing her throat, Beca felt all of a sudden awkward. "It's okay," she said at last, "that's a long time ago. So…"

"Beca," Chloe sighed long-sufferingly, being herself again, all teasing, "only yesterday I thought you looked kinda hot in that red bikini." She dropped her face in her hands, giggling bashfully. "I know I shouldn't have been staring."

"Oh my God, you perv!"

They laughed together until the awkwardness went away.

They asked a couple more questions. Beca was surprised about how much she didn't know about Chloe, her best friend, for the past few years. She found out intimate details about her, personal things Chloe would have never shared because they never came up in conversation. She found out about Chloe's deepest secrets and even about her wildest sexual fantasies.

Until it was Chloe's last question. "Beca, if we were stuck in an elevator—" she said, earning an arched eyebrow from Beca because that was quite literally the case, "—and only one of us could survive, whom would you save first?"

"Myself," Beca shot back without hesitation, guffawing as she placed her hands on her hips and pushed her chest out. "I'd use you as my ladder to climb out of here, no doubt."

"You're so evil. I can totes imagine that," Chloe said, giggling. "Okay, what's your last question to me?"

"Hmm…"

If she asked Chloe a question that she couldn't readily answer, Beca would have a leg up in this silly game. Because obviously, Beca's chances of winning the game were severely diminished by Chloe's willingness to discuss her sexual activities at length and in detail whenever asked. Thus, Beca needed another approach.

And reasoning that the other questions had been hypothetical in nature, she, too, might wrap things off with a hypothetical question.

Being trapped in this elevator car for the past few hours brought them closer together than it did all the years before. They had been together since Beca's first year of college; they were Bellas and best friends for life, and each knew the deepest, darkest secrets and worst fears of the other. They'd always been there for each other, no matter what. They knew everything about one other's peculiarities and oddities, yet they were still friends.

And if this were a matter of life or death, then this would be the question she'd ask only her—only Chloe.

"If I asked you to marry me, would you?"

*,*,*

They were both terrified when the elevator screeched from the lift shaft and shuddered as if the cables were snapping one by one. At least, that was the horrible image that went through Beca's head. And suddenly, the elevator car surged upward at top speed. Similar to being catapulted from a human slingshot owing to the counterweight on the other end of the wires overloading the underfilled car. Luckily, the counterweight landed on a hydraulic buffer in the pit, reducing the upward speed of the cab, and preventing them from being splatted against the ceiling.

While closing their eyes and clinging to each other, they loudly screamed. The car then started moving again, this time speeding downhill. A beeping noise came from the speakers, and the screen was flashing.

This was a total nightmare.

At some point, the elevator car stalled, and the screeching subsided, the creaking sound of rattling wires and shifting gears could still be heard, and the light flickered from time to time.

"Oh fuck, what happened?" Beca asked, seizing Chloe's hand, and clinging on for dear life. Chloe had fallen into a stupor, too terrified to move. Beca's pulse was racing, and her heart was hammering, but she needed to do something. After mustering the strength to stand, she once again pounded on the door in an attempt to attract attention.

"Hello? Anybody? HELP!"

There was a muffled voice, then a banging like a fist hitting metal.

Chloe heard it, too. She got up, screamed as loud as she could, banged, and kicked against the door repeatedly. They both did until the person from outside responded again. Moments later, the voice was coming from the top of the elevator, from the lift shaft.

Someone then spoke to them directly through the emergency exit in the ceiling after a short time of rattling his way through to reach them. After uttering a few words in what seemed to be his native tongue but receiving no answer, he tried again, this time in English.

"You okay? Help comes. Stay calm." An older man with a beard, whom they took to be the security guard based on the exposed portion of his uniform, addressed them in broken English. "This, no good. Get out here, quick."

"Is it? For fuck's sake! We've been stuck here for hours!"

Beca was surprised when she realized that Chloe, and not she, was speaking. And now the redhead had ultimately lost her cool.

"Dude, calm your tits!" Beca said patiently; their roles had reversed.

"You get my hand," the security dude instructed. But his arm wasn't long enough, and neither Beca nor Chloe was tall enough to reach it, despite their trying.

"You got a ladder, maybe?" Beca asked, gesticulating to show her meaning. She tried ignoring the rumble and creaking outside the swaying elevator car.

"No ladder. Storage room, I think," the dude said, "other floor."

"What now?" Chloe asked her, her voice breaking. She cradled herself to hold herself together.

Beca had to think hard. If they had no ladder, then…. An idea struck her, and she knew what to do. She formed a human ladder by leaning against the door underneath the latch and folding her hands on her knee, with her palms facing up.

"Get up here," she told Chloe.

"What?" Chloe said, realizing the intention, "and what about you?"

"You'll get that damn ladder for me," Beca said, urging her, "come on, hop on." However, Chloe remained steadfast, too frozen on the spot. "Dude! Move! There's no time." The creaking echoed through the shaft, getting louder.

"I'm stronger than you," Chloe said dumbly, "maybe I could lift you…."

"You coming? Hurry. Hurry," urged the security guard, trying to reach down further into the compartment.

"Chloe! For Christ's sake!" Beca bellowed, grabbing Chloe's arm, and placing her in front of her. "Hurry the fuck up! Don't worry. Nothing bad will happen. I just want you out of here." Chloe still stared at her, unblinking. "CHLOE!" Beca shouted angrily between clenched teeth, tears stinging her eyes, feeling her pulse race. "YOU FUCKING DUMBASS BITCH, GET MOVING BEFORE I LOSE MYSELF!"

It didn't matter if she had to provoke Chloe to keep her behind covered, since Chloe was always her number one. She had to save her.

Her survival over mine. Always.

Before Chloe could follow the instructions, she grabbed Beca by the collar and planted a passionate kiss on her lips. This was a kiss she'd never given Beca before.

"Beca," she wept, nodding as if affirming something, "I would…."

Because there was no time for speculation, Beca just raised her shoulders as a nonverbal way of asking Chloe what she meant, who did not even consider the possibility that offering context could have been helpful.

"I would marry you if you asked," Chloe said, nodding eagerly. "A thousand times, yes. That's my answer."

Beca smirked. "No, you lost already. Not fair."

Chloe, laughing softly, kissed her again—maybe for the last time—and then stepped on Beca's knee to take the security guard's hand. Adrenaline-fueled, Beca pushed Chloe up by her feet till the guy heaved her up.

Beca overheard the security guy say, "Guess, we... heavy," once Chloe was inside the elevator shaft. "Lady, go… now. QUICK!" Chloe hesitated as she glanced back down at Beca as he tried ushering her out the door. Chloe wouldn't budge.

"No, we have to help her!"

"No, heavy. Heavy," the man repeated.

"Chloe, just go!"

At long last, Chloe allowed herself to be dragged away, crying more tears, and seeming to be in unbearable agony that Beca had to look away. Chloe's cries reverberated behind her.

After the elevator's power went out, Beca didn't have time to realize that she was trapped in her own nightmare.

And she was plummeting over the remaining levels…

*,*,*

When Chloe came to, she was in a hospital bed. Her mind was constantly flooded with disturbing images of the tragedy. The shock had knocked her unconscious, and she had no idea how long she had been lying there. Her arms were covered with bruises and wounds, and she felt the agony throughout her body, which may or may not have been real. She rolled onto her side, sobbing till she could no longer catch her breath, desperate to put the nightmare behind her. She clenched her teeth and pressed her eyes shut, but it didn't make much of a difference since the frightened expression on Beca's face was seared in her memory. The pain was excruciating. Unbearable.

"Oh God, no," she sobbed into her hands, "Beca, please, no." A tightness in her chest prevented her from breathing, hurting so much. It was like being suffocated.

She refused to recognize that someone was touching her arm. Shrugging them off and not wanting to see or speak to someone right now.

"Hey," someone said, pulling on her arms to make her look at the person. "Chloe, look at me."

Chloe removed her arms from her tear-stained face and focused on the familiar face before her.

"Dude, you freaked me out," Beca said. "How do you feel?"

"Beca?"

"Yeah." Beca smiled and squeezed her hand. She was walking on crutches. "Luckily, I came out of the ordeal with just a broken leg."

"Oh, God!" Chloe shot upright and flung her arms around her best friend, who she thought was dead. But, thank God, she wasn't. She was alive. Finally, she broke down in cries of joy, sobs that shook her to her core. "Beca, thank God! Oh God, I thought I lost you." She pulled back to see if it was really Beca. Then she covered the brunette's lips with kisses.

"Hey, that's embarrassing," Beca chuckled, her arms around Chloe's waist.

"How…?"

"Well, elevators have a backup brake system," Beca said, laughing softly, "the firefighters told me. And that's good enough for me; I'm done with elevators for good."

Chloe threw her arms around Beca's neck and pulled, causing both of them to fall backward onto the hospital bed. She leaned in for a deep kiss, vowed to hold on to this woman forever, and never let her go.

"Dude," in a shy, uncomfortable voice, Beca muttered as she peeked behind Chloe's shoulder, "there's like… another patient in the room."

"I don't care. I love you, Beca," she said between kisses, staring into Beca's eyes and noticing that Beca was blushing. "I love you so much."

A/N: I'd be so happy to read reviews/comments if you liked this one-shot. They inspire me to write more. :D