A/N: Just a short one-shot I wanted to see if I can crank out in just a couple hours…
Disclaimer: I don't own the Pitch Perfect universe.
Chloe had never been so livid over something so stupid.
She is generally a relaxed and pretty laid back individual, always have been and hopefully still will be (after this one incident of course), and have always allowed things to slide off her shoulders and not be taken personally, have always smiled away an "it's fine" and continued on her merry way.
So this proves to be a highly unusual case of her losing her mind, and combined with the fact that it had been over something so stupid, she is now positively vibrating with rage by the time she's done trying to suppress and ignore the strong but rare emotion.
Like, who the hell allows their stupid dog outside at freaking six in the morning and then not say or do anything when he/she/it starts and then continues barking it's freaking head off non-stop at something that's probably completely unjustifiable and not even consider the fact that it might be a high inconvenience and annoyance to the neighbor next door?
She is a freaking med student darn it, and she has a big potentially life changing exam in just a couple hours and she has had enough with the inconsideration and the barking and the suppression of her rare lividity at the expense of herself trying to be a good and reasonable human being.
Which is saying something else, because her neighbor—whomever he or she may be—is certainly not receiving the memo or even trying to reciprocate the gesture as well.
Tightening the knot of the bathrobe at her waist and trying to not growl like the dog just outside her bedroom window, Chloe stomps to her front door and throws it open, and doesn't bother to close it as she continues on her way into her neighbor's backyard. She knows that her hair's mussed and her feet's bare and she's practically naked under her robe and that her mom would probably freak if she went to greet some stranger in her current state of undress, but she could really not care less as she storms down the walkway at the side of the house that she had recently inherited from her deceased grandparents, her feet landing on cool paved stone and then soft green grass as she reaches the half wall separating her backyard from her neighbor's.
"Come on, buddy, time to come inside!"
Oh great, now her neighbor decides to do something, when the damage was already well and done and she was already awake and on her way to give her neighbor a piece of her mind.
Her fingers pull at the gate at the corner of the sidewalk, and she swings it open, striding right in, "Hey!"
A woman about her age looks up from her crouch at the inside of her sliding glass door, her hands halting in their gesture at beckoning her pet forward, and Chloe's feet falters at the sight of startled blue eyes meeting her gaze.
The beagle that had been making its happy way back towards its owner perks up at the sound and turns its head, its tail wagging like crazy as another bark permeates the air at the sight of its distraction.
"Yeah?" Her neighbor's voice is skeptical and wary and just at the beginnings of being defensive as her eyes lose its spark of surprise and roves over her livid figure.
Chloe's heart pounds at the gesture and then her feet are resuming its vehement traipse forwards because as if adding insult to injury, her neighbor is attractive and if she wasn't so freaking mad, she would've smiled and flirted and tried to make her acquaintance, and surely someone that attractive would've at least had the decency to consider the insensitivity of her actions, "Next time let your dog out after the early hours of the day, will you? Some people have to sleep and get up in the morning to go to school."
An eyebrow rises into chocolate brown hair and Chloe briefly notes that her neighbor is adorably a couple inches shorter even though she is still standing behind the threshold, "I hadn't realized that six in the morning is considered early," she says, crossing her arms.
Her beagle bounds up to her stop in front of the frowning brunette and barks at her feet, and Chloe tries not to eye at the soft coat of its fur and marvel at the small patch of black on its otherwise white and tan body, "It's early enough for me to get pissed off when your dog won't stop barking at whatever it was that it had been barking at and ruin any chance for me to go back to sleep."
"Well, I'm sorry if it's such an inconvenience for you that this is the only time that I can let him out before I go to work, and that you hate dogs enough to storm into my backyard in your robe and yell at me for letting him have some air before locking him up for hours on end," she replies, shifting her weight onto one foot and leaning against the side of her sliding glass door.
Chloe sputters at the assumption and audacity of the short brunette to turn this on to her, "I don't hate dogs; I was a vet student before I dropped out in favor of medicine!"
"I can't imagine why." Her tone is dry and sarcastic as her gaze travels over her robe clad figure once more, and Chloe is certain that her skin had by now turned into a shade of red rivaling that of her hair, for reasons not particular to her burning antagonism.
Before she could open her mouth for her next words however, the beagle at her feet rubs its head on her calves and twirls between her legs, tongue sticking out to lick at her shins in excitement and happiness, tail wagging enough to shake its entire rear end, and Chloe is delightedly distracted. Immediately, a laugh bubbles its way out of her chest and she shuffles her feet, trying to relieve herself of the tickling sensation and momentarily losing her hold onto her irritation.
"Guetta, stop."
At the two word request, Chloe snaps her head up from the enthusiastic beagle and raises her brows in shock, "Guetta? You named your dog after an artist?"
A flash of interest crosses her neighbor's face before it dissipates, her expression schooling back into neutral blankness, "Yeah, so what? Is that a problem for you as well?"
The thing about being usually laid back and rarely mad enough to lose her crap in front of a complete stranger is that it only lasts for a split second, and that once it was all done and settled and dealt with, she is back to being her usual serene self, curious about this woman who works at six in the morning and who is sarcastic in the most inopportune of times and who owns an overly energetic beagle and who names it after one of her all time favorite artists in the entire world. So she now bites her lip and steps forward, her fingers fiddling with the clasps of her robe, "Are you kidding? I love David Guetta; his song Titanium is my jam. My lady jam."
She looks stunned at the sudden change of demeanor and subject and Chloe grins as she watches her arm uncross to run through chocolate curls, steely gaze darting away, "Oh. That's...nice."
"Yeah." They make eye contact yet again, this time with none of the earlier animosity and mockery between them, and Chloe finally lets herself appreciate the angle of her cheekbones, the tattoo on her shoulder, the subtle curve of her nose, the pink glossiness of her lips. Her grin widens into a full on smile when her neighbor's blank slate of a face cracks into an expression of tentative amusement, and she takes another step forward, toes curling in the grass, about to make another comment about her precise fondness for the song when a jubilant yip rises from her feet.
She had almost forgotten about the dog, about the subject of their less than pleasant meeting and now the subject of their more than promising connection, and she amends it by getting onto her knees and rubbing its face, patting his head and scratching his ears, and she giggles as Guetta barks happily and licks her cheek.
"I'm Chloe, by the way," she says, pushing her hair out of her face so she can properly look at her, because it'd been only about five minutes since she had known this woman and she can already tell that she is hooked.
"Beca," the brunette offers, rolling her eyes in fake exasperation as she watches her dog lavish Chloe with attention, not even bothering with calling him off anymore because they both knew that it would be fruitless.
"Awes," the smile on her face seemed like a permanent fixture, and her serious lack of sleep and previous apprehension about her upcoming medical exam is the last thing on her mind, "Nice to meet you, Beca, and I'm really sorry about yelling at you for waking me up."
Beca waves away her apology and gives one of her own, "I'm the one who should be sorry about being an inconsiderate jerk who didn't do anything when this one here," she nodded to Guetta who blinked innocently up at them, "Won't stop barking at the mist in the air."
Chloe coos at the beagle now kissing her neck about being silly before turning back to the short brunette, her appreciation for the reparation mixing with a sudden hope for a chance to make up, "It's fine, I got over it. Let's start over?"
Because this time she's not a sputtering, storm-up-to-her-total-stranger-of-a-neighbor-uncaringly-half-naked mess—well, the storming part at least, the half nakedness is still glaringly obvious and the uncaring is still stubbornly in place—and her neighbor's really attractive and not a completely insensitive jerkface, and she would now like to make her acquaintance, and then possibly, optimistically, something more, and a redo of their respective first impressions are a necessity of a step for her—them—to reach that goal...
Chloe really wishes that Beca would say yes.
Beca grins and steps away from the threshold, beckoning for her go in, "Yeah, lets. Join me for a cup of coffee?"
A/N: Let me know what you think and follow me on tumblr under pinkpastels113 :))