WARNING THIS CHAPTER IS EXTREMELY LONG IN LENGTH IF ONE IS PRONE TO HAND CRAMPS, EYE FATIGUE AND IS GENERALLY OPPOSED TO SPENDING AN INDETERMINABLE AMOUNT OF TIME GLUED TO THEIR COMPUTERS THIS CHAPTER IS NOT FOR YOU.
But in all seriousness this is my shot at an apology for the unforgivably long wait. This is the major revamping of the last chapter that I had posted(but also took down) way back when. Seems so long ago. Also thank you so so so much to my Beta Corrine. Hope you'll get a kick out of her name later.
Anywho I'd flooded this page with enough words as it is, so I'll expect you guys to come up with your own-to piece together maybe an equally long (kidding...or am I?) response. Reviews will help me post the next chapter faster! It'll take just one month this time. kidding. :P
'That was weird!' You think wearily; it's the first thought that pops into your mind, as you momentarily regain consciousness, getting pulled from your sleep before you were ready. You were just having the wildest dream where Beca had turned up on your doorstep and finally confessed to how she felt about you.
You snort.
'Yeah right, like that would ever happen!' You think, before you turn over in your bed and begin to drift off again.
But then you jolt, fully awake; your eyes snapping open and your heart pounding in your chest.
What had woken you up for good this time? You still yourself listening around for anything suspicious ... but you don't hear anything. There was nothing out of the ordinary.
You let yourself relax a little but then you hear a little creak and out of the corner of your eye, you see your bedroom door moving. Wait, you always lock your door! OhMyGod! There's another creak, shit, now there's soft padded steps. You're nearly hyperventilating, a silent scream poised at the ready to leave your mouth, or it could be you feeling sick, wanting to throw up, feeling your heart thumping, speeding painfully until-
"It's me." Your door opens further, the moonlight catching tousled brown hair, announcing Beca's arrival in your bedroom. "Hey."
Okay, so it wasn't a dream but still the panic starts up again even before the relief fully settles in.
You're still tempted to scream, your heart hasn't gotten the memo yet, its pumping wildly as if danger was still close at hand and it was probably was because oh God Aubrey would kill you, not just you, probably Beca too if she found the two of you in this situation.
"Aubrey's-" You start to say; now feeling more panicked about Aubrey finding Beca within six feet of you than of the intruder you had imagined not fifteen seconds earlier.
"-She's back in her own room, I waited to make sure she fell asleep before I crept over." She explains in a half whisper that still reaches you. She closes the door behind her, making her way in.
Your mouth opens and closes soundlessly, you are sure there's a protest there somewhere, a proclamation dwelling, just about ready to come out. Somehow the words are stuck, still, as frozen as your own figure.
In the back of your mind; in the part that you no longer wanted to acknowledge that was hyper aware of Beca and her actions, you can't help noticing how alert she looks, despite the lack of sleep and the fact that it is still dark out. You can't quite put a finger on it until it occurs to you that perhaps she has been awake for quite a while now.
She stops and casts an eye over your walls, (she's using her flashlight on her phone to help her see her way into your room) taking in the recent bareness in scarcely concealed surprise.
Now that your fear's somewhat subsided over Aubrey potentially appearing out of thin air, her Mama Bear instinct overly strong with you, a new somewhat stronger one starts to creep in.
What was Beca doing here? What did she want? What else could Beca say or do to spin everything out of control and turn this into something even more complicated?
You should tell her to get out. Come on, just tell her, it's only a few words, there are just the two in fact and you will tell her, just as soon as you dislodge the words from your throat, which seems to have completely closed up.
She takes a spot on the end of your bed, there's warning signals going off in your head and you are finally jolted into moving. You find yourself drawing your knees up to your chest, feeling an irrational need to keep your distance so that there's as little contact as possible, and as much space between you and her as you can manage.
"How'd you get in?" You demand, as your voice comes out scratchy and has a slight waiver to it, revealing how anxious you truly were.
You think your heart's thudding loud enough to be heard by Beca herself.
"I was taking my chance coming to your door 'cos I wanted to talk and then I found that it was unlocked; so I thought maybe you wanted to talk as well." She said, trying to smile, sounding a tad hopeful, fiddling nervously with one of the rings on her hand. She's twisting at it so hard; it almost looks as if she could actually unscrew her finger.
"I'm sure I locked it." You say more to yourself than to Beca as you flick an eye towards your keyhole, as if it would confirm or deny for you. Maybe it was your subconscious acting out, revealing what you really truly want. So you guess you did want her to seek you out, to explain things in order to get some proper answers and here she was doing exactly that but you just don't know how to feel about it, about her anymore.
"I'm guessing ... that's a no then." Beca says bravely, as she takes in the silence in the room. Perhaps she was reading the emotions flitting across your face, her own falling in its impassivity as she looks sadly at you. You get the impression that you've successfully managed to crush her bravado with one single comment.
You cast your eyes downwards and lay your head on your knees. You don't actually know exactly what to say or what to think; it's all too much for your still muddled up, sleepy state. Everything is coming across mildly dreamlike or nightmare-like; it was still too early to tell.
"Look, I know I don't deserve to say anything or even more so to ask anything of you." Beca continues, clearly uncomfortable with the silence, judging by the way she is pulling at the collar of her shirt. She finds a spot on your ceiling suddenly very interesting and looks up as she continues. "And I know I've lost my right so I'm sor-" She stops herself, her eyes quickly landing on you, she's gulping several times, her throat clearly dry; knowing that word was now a trigger for you.
You can feel the heat of her gaze; her eyes observing you so intently and it's one that you refused to meet, but you think maybe she had caught the barely suppressed wincing that overtook you. She seems thrown off but she doesn't pause too long; she clears her throat and runs her fingers through her hair before continuing.
"-I uh, I apologize that, that you had to listen to what I had to say last night, and for before and what I've already said. I shouldn't have just come over and turned up unannounced; that was stupid. I'm sober now so I can go home." Beca says, getting out the rest of her speech in a rush, blowing out the air in her mouth, blowing her hair off her face. She's looking awkwardly at the ceiling, the floor, the walls and the door, everywhere and anywhere but into your eyes. "I was just scared before and now, um, now, I'm just I'll just go. I've, I've imposed on your time so much as it is. But I just had to, no I needed to, heck I wanted to just see you-and I have. So, um, thanks and I'll be seeing you, again … soon, I hope and uh, yeah."
She stands up awkwardly, adjusts her shirt and looks at you for a moment, clearly wanting to say more but instead of doing so, she snakes a hand through her hair again, gives you a half smile and gives an awkward little wave.
The sudden loss of her weight on your bed, her retreating footsteps and the heavy feeling settling in your gut and your chest; like you've sort of missed out on something extremely important is niggling at you, it's got you all antsy and out of sorts.
You realize you haven't answered her as she's suddenly moving, making her way to your door. She had taken you by surprise yet again and this time, more than ever, you're left spinning.
You're biting your bottom lip; conflicted but you don't want to call her back, you shouldn't call her back. The curiosity is there though threatening to overpower everything, all the things she had said is now returning full force. It's all there echoing around in your head; a complete juxtaposition of all the things she had been telling you, of how she has been with you all this time. Several snippets of conversation are flying around your brain; conflicting memories which you try to reason and put into order.
At first she had said, "You are going to be the one to ruin me" and then you remember her clearly saying "You don't know … how … many times I have ... dreamt about us … us being together …" and you can almost feel your eyebrows knitting together as the confusion floods your system in waves.
Everything is coming at such a rapid pace, almost as if each new thought was trying to overpower the other. You almost feel a headache coming on.
You remember your kiss and her comment afterwards, how she referred to it as her "error in judgement" and this was quickly followed by the memory of her saying "... our … kiss, how I … never ... wanted it to stop …"
You don't stop to wonder why you are confused with it all as you think about the time she said to "how I … can never stop … looking for you, wanting to just be ... next to you ... so much that I had to physically … wrench … myself away like it was the … scariest thing ever" and then, just to rain on your parade, you remember her snarking at you when she said "And all you give me are problems … you speak back to me, you cause scenes, all you do is get me into trouble, making this difficult for me".
You inwardly groan as you recall one of the more difficult conversations where she had bitingly said "I don't know why I let you into my life. I don't need you. I was ... I've been fine before you, I'll be just as fine when you're gone" which was closely contracted out with her heartfelt speech of "I need you, you're my friend, my best friend".
And then the one thought that you simply cannot get out of your mind. The one that sticks in your throat, the one that breaks your heart and makes the pain and all the bile carry all the way to your throat, every single time you think about it … "We were never ... we are never going to be together. Get it? We are from two sides of the tracks. I mean, seriously, I am who I am. You though … you are nothing, a nobody … an unimportant part of my life. Remember what I said in the janitor's closet; after the competition is over, I will move on and forget about you. You think I am that desperate for attention that I need to scrap the bottom of the barrel and choose to have you in my life. You're not worth it!"
You had been waiting for something to come over you, maybe for some answers that would surface that could allow for things to become clearer for yourself, maybe a flash of inspiration … anything for you to make a decision, a verdict on the state of everything.
You should've known that the waiting would probably be in vain 'cos instead of getting any answers; the long moment of silence, the inner turmoil, the reflection … it all seemed to amount in just accumulating more questions.
So what was this? What in the world did she want from you then?
You were so ready to let her go, to give up; you really had had enough now, of all the uncertainty, of being messed around with.
And yet there she was, still standing by your bedroom door, not moving, looking back imploringly at you.
God, what the hell does she want?!
Why does she keep turning up? Luring you back in ... why can't she let you get over her? Why can't she give you the peace of mind that you so rightly deserve, and leave you to mourn the love that you weren't allowed to have with her?
Why did she have to be so goddamn infuriating? The most monumental headfuck of all time; leaving you doubting and questioning everything. Well, you aren't going to be standing around waiting for answers like some hapless idiot anymore. You needed to know what was going on, once and for all.
The anger's in there somewhere, you only had to summon up the courage, trying, wishing for it to overpower your feeling of being scared and vulnerable.
"So, what was that? What you said." You finally call out after her, realizing you had been so lost in your thoughts, it was for several moments too long for it to be comfortable. She pauses with her hand on the door handle, turning slightly as you speak, casting an eye over her shoulder. You notice the tremble in her hand. "Mere drunken ramblings! Are you gonna blame it on the alcohol?" You ask bitterly.
So much for progress you think. She's still running away!
"No, I'm not." She answers unknowingly both your voiced and unvoiced qualms. "I'm just saying I wasn't in the best state of mind and all, but I'm not going to blame it on the a-a-a-a-alcohol baby." You know she's just quoting the song, but the 'baby' at the end of her sentence still makes you feel a little twinge in your heart.
You open your mouth to say something but the words catch in your throat because only now do you notice, almost feel that there's something different with her; it almost feels like something had changed in her, that something had come over her. She's different and you can see it, you can sense it in the air. You see it in her stance maybe or perhaps it's the way her jaw's set. She looks determined to accomplish something, as if she had her mind completely made up and was set out to finish whatever she wanted to complete.
You're scared what it would entail.
"And I'm not taking it back either." She says before you get the chance to form words and you see the beginnings of tears in the corner of her eyes; the moonlight from outside just catching the sadness, sensing her desperation as she struggles to word what's in her heart. "I was totally aware of my actions and to a point, what I was saying as well. Of course if I were sober I would've versed everything differently, a little more eloquently. But the sentiment was there and I got my message across. To answer your question, yes I do. I do like you. I do want you. I didn't want to but I can't undo what's done. You've made me feel alive again, I'd forgotten what was that was like, to actually want something too desperately, I can almost taste it. And I know I've screwed up. I know what an ass I've been to you. I'm just so confused right now, so damn confused. I wasn't supposed to get this involved and I've fucked it up before it had a chance to go anywhere. I don't know if I can offer you any certainty, but I want this, I want your kiss, your arms around me, holding me tight. Whenever I'm with you it just feels, it just feels right."
"Wow, pretty words, you came up with that just by yourself?" You say bitterly; by now you are so used to snarking at Beca, it just comes naturally. You grimace at yourself and at the hurt little expression on Beca's face, but then suddenly she smiles of all things; that sunny, genuinely happy Beca smile that she would wear when you first started to hang out. It comes back like an old, well missed friend and it takes you by surprise. It seems like it'd been such a long time ago since she'd smiled at you like that, really smiled at you at all without that hint of worry surrounding her eyes that it succeeds in jolting you a bit. You can feel it in the pit of your stomach and you're sure that it's not nerves or any hint of feeling. No sir, you're probably fearsome and nervous of Beca's mood swings.
You're so sure, well, pretty sure it's the latter and you better hope it is.
"You gotta admit they were pretty good and on a plus side the part towards the end totally rhymed." She says as lighthearted as she can manage. You don't fail to notice the sparkle return in her eye. You feel yourself caving, slipping for a second and so now you're frantically scrambling to raise your walls of defense back up again.
"So what am I supposed to do, just let it go, fall into your arms and we'll what, live happily ever after?" You ask, your voice coming out way harsher than you had intended.
"No, I don't expect you to let it go. Although, Adele Dazeem does recommend it!" She tries to joke but these moments with her trying to play everything off isn't so welcome anymore. Not with how serious things had gotten in such a short amount of time and especially when she had finally just told you how she felt. You had finally gotten to a certain pivotal point and yet you aware that she was unable to do so without making you go through shit first.
She had to come when you were absolutely ready to give up and you're wondering why she should even deserve a chance now. Haven't you had enough? Do you have any more fight left in you? Do you even want this anymore? Just because she said whatever it was that she had said, did that automatically make her forgiven, absolve her from everything she had put you through?
No, it did not.
"Why?" Is all you get to ask and yet she seems to understand it all perfectly.
"'Cos trying to keep away from you, it's simply exhausting!" She breathes out heavily, after running a hand over her face; permitting a sad, tired, little smile to grace her features. Her face is so clear, so open as she speaks freely, unhindered for what seems like the first time in a long time. "I'm so, so tired of running away from something that makes me so very happy, all that makes me feel alive and feel everything. There aren't words to describe what it is you do to me; you make me just feel ... a ... lot-"
"-Why now?" You press on. Her face tightens, her eyes shut, her mouth tightens as if fighting to hold everything in its place, to keep everything together. "I don't want to say 'I want you to stay', not because I don't, because I really do want, I need you to stay and I don't wanna lose you." She continues. "I mean you should stay in the competition; I shouldn't be the one to drive you away. You have worked hard to get where you are. And succeeding, overcoming it all even with the nodes and everything. You deserve to be there and with me saying, no, me asking it for myself; it's me being selfish again and you were right what you said, I have been very, no, I am very self involved and everything else. You were right."
She pauses and you watch her visibly gulp a couple of times.
"It's self preservation. I'm scared of everything; what this could do, what it could mean but the thing that scares me the most, is the thought of losing you." Her voice tightening, before bam, her eyes open and you gasp at the sudden return of intensity; it's burning you because there's so much pain, so much torment going on there, reflecting in their depths.
It's dizzying, and you have to force yourself to look away because if anything, whatever it was that was going on with Beca went far more deeper than you imagined it to and it promised more confusion, it guaranteed even more drama for the future and you really can't fall back now but with every word she's saying, letting out, it's dragging you back in; the concept of letting go seems harder and harder to grasp.
"But how can I trust you? I can't trust that you won't run again. You keep running. You've never shown me that you are willing to stay." You say, trying to keep the unkindness from your voice, but you need her to know how you are hurting. "Every single time you've-"
"-I know, I know. I've got to show you how-" Beca said.
"-The only thing you have ever shown me is your ass as you walk away." You say, almost spitefully.
"Then tell me how I can prove it to you. Make you see that I mean what I say." Beca says earnestly.
"I don't know if you can." You say honestly.
"Please, don't tell me it's too late already?" Beca pleads.
"A drunkenly rambled confession slash apology on my doorstep doesn't make up for you messing with my head the way you have for weeks now or even erase everything else." You say, her face making your resolve waiver slightly. She's too proud to beg, you know that but her face shows this almost too raw desperation.
"I'm not expecting it all to turn around and get fixed overnight. I know I've got a lot to prove. I know that. My question is though; are you willing to let me have another chance?" She asks delicately, yet earnestly.
"How many chances do I have to give you? I can't keep getting by, barely surviving with you hurting me, doing this to me again and again." You reply.
"I just need you to know that I am so sor- I mean, very regretful of the way I treated you." Beca says, with a clear neediness to her voice.
"I know. You said it before. More than a few times in fact." You say.
"But I need to say it. I know my faults and I know that I've succeeded in messing it all up pretty badly; I know I have."
"It's just so complicated and I'm so tangled up in everything. If possible, it even just got more difficult, and there is some stuff that even you don't know about and that I'd rather keep you out of, at least for now." Beca rambles, but then stops completely. Her right hand reaching up to grip at her hair, her head bowing, leaning on her hand, temporarily shading her face from your view.
You don't like it.
It makes you feel uneasy; one would assume that it was the words, the flowery speeches that was aiding you in making a decision. While some of the words you could hear coming from her mouth did seem and sounded legit and genuine enough, helping you to start to believe in her and what she was saying. But in truth, what had gotten Beca back in again, back into your "Let's Reconsider This Predicament List." What had really chipped away at you and your resolve was the reading from her, seeing her expressions, interpreting her body language that had given you this sense of knowing of calmness that showed she was for real this time.
It was seeing her up, close and personal.
Her hiding her face from you. This could be the start of her giving in and closing up again even before you had made much progress. She was probably deciding once and for all to not bother with you; after all you were just another added complication for her.
But it seems you needn't have worried in the first place, she doesn't keep it there too long, her hand quickly loosens and she drops it back down to her side and she's also not done with her speech. She's even trying a hand at smiling again.
"But even with everything going on, I can't help myself from hoping, from wishing, no, I just can't help wanting a shot at trying this with you." She walks back across your room and teeters by the end of your bed.
"This being what?" You ask quietly, (though you really feeling like shouting the question out in your longing, your demand to know, to hear more) wondering to yourself if you had heard her correctly when she said she wanted a shot with you.
"Just having 'this'; an understanding, something that we both acknowledge, that allows you, and I to act freely around one another, to be affectionate to, um, to um, hold hands, hug and kiss?" She stakes her claim back at the foot of your bed and sits down pretty heavily.
"Hmm, sounds like something pretty serious, it sounds awfully like a relationship." You say; a sombre tone to your otherwise normal voice.
"Well I am! I am serious!" She says taking your hand, and interlacing them your fingers. You can feel her hands flexing and you notice how her whole body seems to be twitching. You can feel the stillness of the moment, it's almost as if the entire world was awaiting your next move, the room almost seemed to be shivering with anticipation, this was the deciding moment and you can almost taste the electrical charge in the air. Everything feels tentative and nervous. And terribly exciting. To be honest you're more scared than ever.
It was scary because your decision could change everything. And while you would want to give in and be all rash with the decisions, well, that certainly changes everything; your heart acknowledges her admissions as truth.
She's not looking at you. Her attentions fixed on your palm; seeming to find it very interesting. You find yourself lifting her face so you could see hers clearly and you see it there in her eyes.
Everything has changed. Yet nothing has changed. You're still the same people but this; this was definitely a new stage in your relationship.
It all started with the offer; the one that Beca was being brave enough to put it out there. She wants this, she wants you. She wanted this with you.
But she had hurt you. The damage she had caused, you are pretty sure can't be erased so early and easily. Your heart had a thousand little cracks in it.
"You hurt me-" You say.
"-I won't say sorry, not only because I totally maxed out that words' usage over the past day or so but because the word itself doesn't cover it. No actually, in truth there aren't enough words in the English language and no lengthy enough apology that can cover or express my thoughts properly. It's not enough. I should've been a better friend, a kinder person. Just someone better towards you, for you. I shouldn't have taken out everything on you; you are the best thing in my life, the best thing that has ever happened to me, I've been alone for so long, and yet I was pushing you away, trying to run because, well, you scare me Chloe. It scares me how you make me feel. You make me feel so much and, and um, all that mixed with everything the pressure I'm under-"
"-And what about Jesse?" You bravely voice one of the many things that you are still holding back, something that's still keeping you from letting her in again. She falters for a beat of a second, but then her eyes find yours and you can almost see the decision passing through her mind, she nods to herself before she answers.
"You were right, I don't like, I mean I don't, um want …" She sighs, clearly unsure of how she wants to word it. "... he's not right for me."
You feel something shift inside your brain, like the last few words register in a place you weren't aware of before. And now everything is hitting you so much harder and faster than ever before.
"Because Chloe, you're the one that I want, you are the one that I want, ooh, ooh, ooh honey." She says, half singing the words to you. She has a semi embarrassed but tentatively playful smile on her face.
You are still caught in between everything that's happening; all that's coming true for you, the confusion, the new feelings, the admissions, the complete turnaround of it all.
She clears her throat when she sees the look on your face (everything is clearly written there, you've simply given up trying to hide it) and continues on in a normal tone
"He's not right for me. He's not the one I want to be with, not when, um, not when, you are it. And to be honest you have been for quite a while now."
Your heart's thudding.
Oh shit! You should be glad but everything's just taken you by storm. Now she's said it and you've heard it, it's taken you an even longer time to accept it, that everything, all you ever wanted and waited for was coming true for you, it was actually happening to you right now and you're almost tempted to pinch yourself but no, if this was a dream, you want to revel and just float in it for a while longer.
She wants you! She really does!
"Do you hear me?! I'm saying it! As loud and clear as I dare with your psycho roommate in the next room. You are it for me, Chloe. You are it! I don't want anyone else. Just you. Only you." She says, all the while her giddy laughter is lacing her words but then she tries a much more serious face. "But that is of course ... if you'll have me?"
You can't remember a time when you have moved so fast. When your body finally gives in, when it finally moves in accordance with your deeper inner suppressed thoughts and makes the connection between your heart and now fully awake mind, when your lips do meet it has none of the urgency, the sadness, the roughness of the first two kisses shared between the two of you. This one is soft, sweet and patient, breaking through the daze, the trancelike situation you had been in.
From the first touch, the little sigh of relief that follows when your mouth and hers come together; her lips holding yours between hers perfectly, you don't even have to move, you're enjoying breathing it in and you're content with this slight pressure; her light kisses slowly peppering the expanse of your lips like she's taking time to familiarize herself with them.
But then Beca brings up her hand to cup your face to deepen the kiss, titling your face to go in at a different angle and you follow her lead to accommodate, her tongue peeks out to lick your bottom lip and you immediately grant her access … you both let out almost similar groans as you unhurriedly explore the confines of each other's mouths.
It's tantalising slow. It's delectably soft. And it's beautiful the way she runs her fingers through your hair, gently exploring your face with her fingers and pressing closer to you.
Each movement you make is to confirm to yourself that this was really happening; that you were really here experiencing it all.
She's not stopping, not letting you go; as if she won't be denied her prize. She holding you so tightly, as if she is afraid you'll leave. While you on the other hand know that you have nowhere else you'd want to be at that precise moment. She snakes a hand around your shoulders, pulling you closer to her as she deepens the kiss. You can hear her breathing more heavily and as you place a hand on her back of her neck, you can feel her pulse thumping. You risk a peek at her face as your mouths move together in perfect symmetry, enjoying the taste of each other. She has her eyes closed but obviously senses you looking at her as hers snap open and all you see is dark, dark blue and the entrance to her soul.
"I'm glad we had this talk." You say rather breathless, when you do finally pull away. You rest your forehead on hers, your eyes closing as you try to settle your erratic heartbeat.
"Me too." She says and you can hear it, and you can even feel her smiling, the joy radiating from her. You open your eyes to meet hers, to see it; and she's beaming, beautiful, her eyes sparkling with happiness, cheeks flushed, her lips red and swollen.
"God, you're so beautiful." You murmur, unable to stop the words spilling from your lips. You both stiffen but Beca's body relaxes faster than yours. It takes you a few seconds longer to unfreeze, which only happens after she's given you that reassuring half smile of hers. It's funny, after all that has happened, and all you had just shared, that you can still feel embarrassed at the thought of your thoughts, and your true feelings slipping unhindered out of your mouth, revealing how terrifically buzzed and slightly anxious you feel inside because of how new everything was.
You're still breathing hard; she doesn't help by placing her hand on your cheek and rubbing her thumb over your skin.
"And you are really, well you're simply gorgeous! Everything about you is just stunning." She says looking playful and sweet before her eyes take on that mischievous sparkle, promising so much. She's smirking, before leaning in to press unchaste kisses all over, wherever she can reach, peppering your face and your neck. "The colour spilling on your cheeks, it's so lovely." She says in between kisses, her voice so warm and velvety.
You can feel yourself floating, you are drifting miles away. Lost in happy thoughts.
"You okay there?! I didn't like make you short circuit or anything, did I?" She then asks.
"As if-" You begin to answer, ready to mock her question.
"-I totally rocked your world-" She interrupts, a certain lightness to her voice you had forgotten about.
"-Really? Rocked my world, you actually say that?!" You allow yourself to laugh a little.
"And I do it really well too!" She says, a false seriousness to her voice matching her expression. You find yourself laughing, rolling your eyes.
"Just so you know I'm the one who totally rocked your world!" You say.
"Care to prove me wrong?" She says before delving right in for another kiss.
Moments later, you're just lying there together, gently rolling on the bed, now literally rocking each other's world.
No, not that kind of rocking, not just yet!
But you are on your bed, moving easily with each other in a rhythm that just feels right, your leg is straddling hers, your foot gently rubbing on her calf, feeling slightly friction against her skin. You are lying so close, you have become one.
You are so desperate to touch her skin, to feel her real warmth but you also know that she-not just she but the both of you might not be quite ready for that yet(you'd covered so much ground for one night slash day) so you keep your hands on top of her clothes. And luckily so far, she isn't flinching from your touch, pulling away or complaining. If anything, she seems more handsy as well, not afraid to touch the bare skin on your arms and to run a hand lightly over the skin on your thigh. Maybe she really was telling you the truth.
You're not sure what time is it now, or how long you've been laying there as you've lost all sense of time; not quite cuddling but not really spooning, her arms comfortably wrapped around you, her face buried in the crook of your neck. You can't help but tuck a kiss on to the top of her head.
"What time is it now?" You ask.
"I don't really care, do you?" Beca says looking up to give you a smile before she burrows back to your neck. She brushes her lips against your neck, presses a light kiss there; unconsciously finding that magic spot of yours.
It makes you tremble slightly.
"You cold? You want a blanket?" She whispers, her breath doesn't help, you feel warmth, then cold pass over you; feeling goose bumps erupt all over.
"No! You're keeping me quite warm."
"Just warm huh? It's okay we can work towards the heat. I guarantee we'll reach scalding hot! But maybe some other time." She laughs, but it's a low laugh and her eyes are darkly intense again.
'Some other time'. Wait! Time! She almost made you forget.
"So I think you should probably creep back out to the sofa. Aubrey tends to do routine checks after she goes to the bathroom for her early morning pee." You say urgently.
"But I like it here!" She half whines.
"Trust me you don't wanna get caught by Aubrey-"
"-Yeah!" She says her face twisting, probably remembering how bad Aubrey can get.
"You need to go." You urge again, acutely aware and honestly a little bit fearful of Aubrey's strict routine.
You're right!" A sly smile appears on her mouth, before she's pressing yet another kiss to your mouth. This time you pull away, because you know if you don't, she wouldn't be leaving the room any time soon.
She makes a tiny little groan of protest and you give her a tiny little kiss to her forehead (you don't miss her trying to tilt her face to meet your lips).
"Fine! I'm going." You can hear her protest and you're wondering what's taking her so long in the darkness. Beca fumbles. You'd think Beca's eyes would have adjusted to the dim hue in your room by now but she's still unfamiliar with the layout, but then there's a loud squeal as she takes a stumble, tripping over something solid by the door.
You both listen in to see if the sound had woken Aubrey up but there's no stirring in the house. You turn on the light in your room and you find Beca seated on the floor holding onto her foot.
"Ow, shit, what was that? I think I stepped on something sharp protruding from this plastic bag."
"Oh! I think it was the framed poster that I uh, stashed away-"
"-You put my Broadway poster in a garbage bag?" She says bending at the knee then looking through the contents of the plastic bag. "Wait, not just my Broadway poster? All my stuff?"
"Let me explain. Wait no, I don't have to explain myself but yes, I was furious with you okay? Also I think I downed several pints of ice cream, so in my defence, I may not have been in control of my actions!"
Her eyebrows come together trying to figure out the logic behind that statement; how could the consumption of ice cream result in any of that, but then she sighs, nodding her head as if understanding.
"Yeah, I think I totally deserve the cut of my foot."
"It's doesn't look too deep, just a nick but I need to do a more thorough exam to make sure that no glass went inside. I'll have to clean it out with alcohol then put a band aid on it." You leave your bed to get everything, but there's her hand stilling you.
"It's fine! It's stopped bleeding; it's no biggie."
"You're hurt! Don't downplay the pain."
"Fine, I'll take the alcohol and the band aid." You find your stock in one of your drawers, you start to bend down to touch her foot but she sticks a hand out to receive the band aid and the alcohol, so she could do it instead.
Still she allows you to inspect her handiwork when she's finished.
"Okay it's good, does it still sting?"
"It's nothing."
"Stop saying it's nothing! I swear if you keep up this tough act, I'll keep pouring more alcohol till you react like a normal person-"
"-I meant that it's nothing compared to everything I put you through." Beca says, her entire face the picture of remorse. She's pensive now and nibbles on her bottom lip as she drifts far away seeming getting pulled by other thoughts, other memories.
You keep silent; observing her till she looks back at you, her face sudden clears smooth of worry like everything suddenly made sense. As if she had come up with something brilliant as an answer, like she had come to a decision. Her set mouth is pulled into one of those Beca Mitchell bright smiles; genuine and effortless.
"I know this night's only the start to the whole making up to you and I've barely scratched the surface and I know I still have no right to impose things because this a very free, open to any kind of input kinda thing, but can you humour me?"
You're hesitant in answering because she looks so earnest, so serious that you're scared at what she'll ask of you, afraid because you know you'll agree without batting an eyelash. You are slightly afraid for what's to come next.
You nod regardless of your feelings.
"Seeing as we have a day off in a couple of days from now, can I take you somewhere special?" Beca asks you. You almost exhale loudly, but instead you breathe a sigh of relief. Okay, that wasn't such a big deal. It was a simple enough request. But your curiosity is piqued though.
"Where?"
"A place of beginnings; of sanctum." She says, mysteriously.
"I still don't know where that is." You begin to say but your words falter when you hear the creaking of a door that is not your own. You wait as you listen to Aubrey's sleepy, shuffling footsteps leading to your shared bathroom. Only when that door closes do you push at Beca to leave the room immediately. She does finally but not before placing one lingering kiss on the side of your mouth.
"More of that later, gorgeous!" She whispers before tiptoeing, and then she almost runs across the wooden floor light enough on her toes to avoid Aubrey's radar before you hear the soft groan of her weight as she settles on the sofa.
You sink back into your covers, a warmth in your heart for the first time, almost excited for the promise of tomorrow.
The next time your eyes open you expect to see the sunlight leaking into your room; you'd even expected that after all that had happened the night before, that you'd sleep in until late into the morning or even into the afternoon.
So you're very surprised when, not only do you wake up and see that it's still dark outside, it almost seems and feels like no time has passed at all. You check the clock to make sure and yet it only confirmed it.
'That's just weird!' You think wearily; your mind working double time to make sense of what was going on.
In fact, with the stillness of the night … the confusion and the anticipation you're suddenly feeling, everything seems oddly similar to what you were feeling right before Beca had snuck into your room in the middle of the night and confessed to how she really felt about you.
You snort.
"Yeah right, like that would even happen!" You say out loud, the words sounding strangely familiar, before you turn over in your bed and begin to drift off again.
Then you sit bolt upright, fully awake; your eyes snapping open and your heart pounding in your chest.
Wait a minute; it had happened, hadn't it?
Hadn't Beca come to you? Delivered some epic lines. You remember responding favorably and giving in easily.
But apparently she hadn't! It's finally hitting you. All she had done and all she had said All that had happened wasn't real. It was a dream. You had been having a dream, the wildest dream ever. But it had seemed, no it had felt so real.
God, your dreams sometimes, they were so very vivid. Everything still felt so ... fresh.
And you're once again undecided as to how you really feel about that. Mostly absolutely pathetic for dreaming up such a sappy scenario, and other parts severely annoyed at yourself topped off with just a tiny, miniscule hint of regret; but for what you weren't quite ready to acknowledge just yet.
Now, going back to the dream, you didn't like how helpless you had felt and how easily swayed you were. Because seriously, if that had happened in real life, you'd like to think you wouldn't have given so easily. Or not have given in at all.
'No sir, you wouldn't let Beca get a word in. You're beyond pissed at her remember?' You chastise yourself.
You get up, walk to your door and you're just about to try the knob to make sure that it was locked this time around when the door knob turns on its own.
"Oh my God! Seriously?!" You think to yourself. "It's happening again?"
And then bam! The door starts to push open and you only just manage to put your hand out, to stop it from opening and then there's a force pushing against it but you don't give in, you don't let up and push back hard. You even put your entire body weight against it. You can hear the soft breaths of effort from the other side, leaving you in no doubt who it was behind the door. Why you didn't lock it sooner or before you went to sleep was beyond you.
"Chloe?" Beca's voice comes whispery soft. The pushing halting momentarily, which you take full use of. And you finally, successfully pop the door shut. "Are, um, are you ... why are you blocking the door?" She asks, sounding so very confused. Yeah, she wasn't alone, you were too ... confused that is, and weirded out by this entire situation. It was a complete role reversal. The two of your opposing forces; her trying so hard to get in, and you trying so hard to keep her out.
When you think about it, it wasn't just the metaphorical wants or force of Beca's opposing yours; it was also two different parts of you warring with the other.
The Old Chloe and the New Chloe. The old one was understanding, forgiving Chloe; who gave people opportunities to redeem themselves; who was weak and meek and helpless when it came to this girl.
Granted New Chloe was still that New; but she was also tenacious. She had been creeping up, steadily forming over the past few weeks. She was the one who had kicked it off who had finally grown wary and decided that Beca and all of her troubles weren't worth it; the one who was fed up and above all furious.
You're wondering in the end who would let up. No, you know ... who wouldn't let up.
"I don't want you to come in." You answer honestly.
You hear a huff on the other side of the door.
"What are you doing anyway?" You spit out. You press your ear closer to the door to hear her reply.
"I thought I'd-" She doesn't get far before you cut across her.
"-Creep in like some roguish thief, stealing into my room in the middle of the night, with your flowery words, ready to take advantage of me and my unhindered sleepy state trying to get me to easily let you in and just let go of all your past sins?" You say, getting a bit carried away and letting your mouth run away with you.
"Huh? Wait! What?" Beca said, clearly confused.
"Never mind." You sigh, your brain is all caught up in the dream and you're rather pissed off that you're letting yourself get affected by it.
Really, it's not as if you'll make the same choices. You wouldn't let Beca get that far. In fact, you could say that you had already succeeded. Step one: Keep door closed. Check. Well, almost, there was still another step. Step two: Get rid of Beca.
Beca who in coming to your door (as she had in the dream) had probably thought that she was all set to getting in your good graces, she probably thought she was going to have it easy.
"I guess kinda, um, I do want that. Really I do."
"Well, you do sound mightily sure and totally convincing I'll give you that." You say, the sarcasm, the snark coming easily inspired by your lack of sleep and the severe annoyance for the person behind it.
"Chloe?"
"Go back to the couch Beca."
You leave it at that choosing not to say anything else, you wait hoping she'll just take the hint and leave but minutes pass, you still see the shadow of her figure through the tiny crack of the door blocking the light from the living room. You're at a standoff waiting each other out.
"I guess I'm just going to have to sleep here then." She says after a while, her voice muffled as if she is whispering through the crack in the door.
You let out a sigh of annoyance when you finally give up the not talking thing.
"Why are you still here? What do you expect is gonna happen?"
"I guess mostly I just want to talk and stuff." She says hesitating, and tentative, threading, maybe knowing how precariously fine a line she was perching on, although her next words aren't quite so contrite. "But it's really up to you if you want to listen. Just hear me out, okay?"
You don't know why that completely irks you enough that you finally let the door open, yanking it unceremoniously viciously backward.
You immediately regret the action when it causes the doorframe to rattle a little; Beca stumbles, she manages to right herself soon enough. But you don't really care about the latter part, you're far more concerned over another matter.
You both glance sideways, staring cautiously at Aubrey's bedroom door while your heart's thudding fiercely expecting incoming Aubrey danger if she catches you consorting with the enemy. You both wait a few more seconds and then both let out similar sighs of relief when it seems like the danger has passed entirely.
"I think we should move this inside so we don't risk waking her up." Beca says, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
"You have some nerve saying that to me!" You hiss."You have no right saying anything at all and don't you take that playful, carefree, flirty … that tone and that manner with me."
She opens her mouth to retaliate (though it was probably her mouth falling open in shock) but you don't let her.
"No! You can't talk! Shut up. I will do the talking here; and you can respond if or when I allow you to. Because you don't get the right to initiate conversations anymore because one; you aren't out of the doghouse; two, you are definitely not in my good favor and three; you see the thread of where I'm going with this? Basically what I'm saying is that, you and me, we aren't okay. So no flirting, no joking or singing, no nothing from you. And just saying whatever's going to happen, I promise you that you will definitely not have any control whatsoever over what goes down between us!" You say all of this in one go and take a sharp intake of breath at the end. It's a miracle how you manage to keep your voice low enough, in a volume that doesn't hurt your throat.
"I just meant that-" She begins weakly. You swear that you can hear stirring going on behind Aubrey's door, you cover Beca's mouth, muffling her next words with your hand and you roll your eyes. She was right; this wouldn't work if you wanted to lay it on her hard. You couldn't do that quietly and without being caught out here. You pull your hand away but not before you send her a stern look, your finger to your mouth then move out of the way; an unmistakable invitation to come inside your room.
You close your door behind her softly, taking a moment to breathe, resting your head on your door to steady yourself before you need to turn to face Beca who you can feel staring, waiting along with the pile of issues that only seemed to be accumulating, growing larger and larger behind you.
You have to keep steady, if you wanted this to go how you envisioned, with your wits about you. You had to still yourself against Beca and be the one to control this, to be in charge. You won't let her get out what she wants to say without you unloading first, saying your piece.
The dream's still fresh in your mind, you know what would happen if it were otherwise. You won't let Beca pull you in so easy. You can't let her make you weak again. You erase the memory of her lips form your mind.
You start pacing, somehow managing not to make eye contact. You need to keep moving, you want to walk off the buzzing energy that somehow can't be contained.
"Chloe, I'm so-" Beca tries.
"-No!" You all but shout. You sense Beca jump. Sense her opening her mouth again and before you know it, you're turning sharply, hands waving wildly trying to motion for her to stop. "Don't you dare start with one of your 'I'm sorry' speeches. I swear to God if you do..."
You'd be fine never hearing those two words again. You think she had put you off of them for a long time maybe even for life.
There's a pause perhaps Beca had lost her nerve and was gaging to see if it were alright to speak again, when she opened her mouth she almost immediately closed it, floundering for her next words; figures how she only had that one speech in mind, thinking so very naively that the two words could still make everything okay.
Beca takes a breath before she gives it another try. You clench your fists. Trying to retain what was left of your sanity.
"Look, I know I don't deserve to say anything or even more so to ask anything of you and I don't have any more-"
"-So don't! Shut your trap! But wait, first, before you do that … can we just cut the crap? What is it you want?" You snap. "But no, wait, it's always unclear isn't it. What you want I mean, and for once I want it to be all about what I want. And you know what I want; straight, clear answers and no beating around the bush. What is it you want? What did you come here for?"
You find the question hangs in the air for a long moment. Beca looks you directly in the eye.
"You."
'Bull … shit!' You think, fiercely and resume really need to keep up the momentum; though for some reason your legs feel weak but the last thing you wanted to do was sink to your bed and have Beca join you there. You weren't entirely sure how strong your resolve was, the ache in your heart betraying what was in your head. Out of the corner of your eye you see Beca hovering just by your bed. She doesn't sit
"No." You say sternly, despite the tiny tug in your belly. "That can't just be your answer, Monosyllables are unacceptable."
"I want a chance then, with you."
"That's bullshit!" You exclaim, your bitter thoughts now rising to your mouth.
"Chloe …" She pleads. "... please."
You finally come to a stop, faltering when you look into her shiny eyes. 'Don't be fooled, don't get lured in. Just stop looking into her eyes. it's dangerous to you.' It froze you all over; she was like Medusa.
You reinforce your resolve. Her power works but it's your heart and your face that hardens, forming a sneer.
"Well sorry Beca, see what I did there complete disregard of the words meaning, 'cos sorry but I'm not sorry because in case you missed everything that's been going on all this time and especially these past few days; you don't get off with it that easily. I'm not going to make it so easy for you with your vague freaking answers. It can't be like that, it won't ever be that simple again." You say slowly and clearly so that the message hits her and everyone else concerned i.e. yourself.
"And you, you actually had me already!" You stop yourself from finishing your own sentence; you had been determined not to let the conversation stray that way. Otherwise you'd find yourself heading towards the place where carefully composed 'you' went to die, that would render you too emotional, and would cause the carefully constructed walls;the only thing holding you up, and was holding everything in-to break.
But it seems you had failed. You had felt it building before. But now you allow it to consume you fully. To let all the anger that had been overpowered by everything else so glaringly absent from your dream leak out.
"You had all of me, I was your friend, I was there for you every step of the way." You begin slowly, the words coming from the back of your throat. "And it wasn't just because I had feelings for you, it was because you and our friendship actually meant something to me and I thought It-that I meant something to you."
You swallow thickly to dispel whatever it was blocking it, to put out the heat that had been steadily rising.
"You were, I mean, I thought that, that we had established some sort of bond. I felt a closeness with you like I'd never felt with anyone before and the first few weeks were fine … they were more than fine, they were almost perfect ..." 'like something out of a dream' the words get caught up in your throat. You stop to recuperate, because for some reason your voice was coming out too weak now too thin, your throat was now too pinched up to allow the force that your next words needed.
You breathe in and out quickly, shakily. You feel the dizziness threatening to overcome you spots appearing behind your eyes. Beca moves your way, you hold up one finger warning her to back off.
Why was this so hard. Hating her. The anger. The putting her in her place. When it was so easy for her to do this to you.
The returning feeling of betrayal of hurt jolts you pushes you past that mild discomfort at the back of your throat, past the haze that had threatened to pull you under.
"But then since the Barb scandal and every moment after that, you chose to ignore me, to push me away and then you acted like a total bitch!"
Beca winces.
"It wasn't just the rejection, because, thank you Beca Mitchell for making it clear by making me feel, no, making me know that I'm not good enough, that I'm not worthy of your attention. I get it. I think I could've handled that but you had to rub everything in my face, constantly humiliating me, playing with my emotions, giving me hope and then yanking it away and it's not just confusing anymore, it's fucking annoying ... and I'm. So. Fucking. Sick. Of. It!"
You pause for a second to collect yourself.
"And by all accounts I have the right to hate you. I should be able to hate you, to absolutely loathe you from here on out until the rest of eternity." Your eyes flick up to see the openly, frankly stunned expression on Beca's face.
She swallows hard. Her knees give way as she falls to your bed. She looked exhausted.
You keep your face neutral as it can be, trying to put on your own mask of indifference observing her as if she were a lesser being, undeserving of your sympathy. You disregard her beautiful face and try to ignore the hint of anything that made her appear human, made her something you'd feel sorry for but it was almost impossible when all you encounter; can see and feel is her sadness; her cloudy eyes, her pale countenance, her wrinkled forehead and shaky, trembling body.
You screw your eyes shut tightly against the image.
"But I can't-" You say, a momentary slip, a reveal into what you couldn't help feeling, you pause but then speak over your words trying to cover up from your slip. "-can't help wanting to get to the bottom of everything to justify if all the hate is warranted. I want to know your reasons, your motive behind everything. You seem to have it in for me. Me especially, I mean. Why did you treat me like this?" Your words once again get caught in your throat. This time it hurts to swallow, everything hurts not just the words being squeezed out through your too tight throat. "What the fuck did I ever do to you? What did I do to deserve all this?"
You pause for a moment while the words hang in the air.
"I mean, what game you are playing?" You ask, still letting everything out. "Because I can't seem to get the rules. It seems like you're the only who knows all of them, that's why you get to play me is that right? And this, isn't this just another one of your plays?"
"Chloe, I'm not playing. I never played you. I know it's hard to believe but I've been completely genuine in my regard towards you. I've been completely myself with you, more than I have been with anyone else in a long time."
"Wow lucky me!" You say, your legs carrying you closer when you march towards her, fueled by your anger, "So, you're being genuine towards me, the whole snapping at me, cutting me down, ignoring me, saying hurtful things, that's how you really are like. I really had you pegged all wrong."
"No!" She exclaims and you laugh disbelievingly, half turning away in disgust. "Well, okay then yes, yes I am. I mean, I'm owning it ... I can be the spoiled selfish little rich bitch that you accused me to be." You're still turned away but your ears perk to attention for the first time interested in what she was saying. "The thing is, I thought I'd grown out of it; I thought that I had learned to have a handle on things and I could be in control of my limits. Well, I used to be able to. It was something I'd perfected over the years. But somehow these days, with you, with everything that's going on, and all at the same time, it's just ... it all just seemed to bring out the worst in me. For the first time I don't really know what I'm doing. I'm flailing, I'm flat out struggling and it's overwhelming, and I do get overwhelmed. I'm only human. And I know that in no way does that excuse or forgive my actions, I know they're inexcusable, and above all, unforgivable."
She ran her hand through her hair and you watched as her eyes darted about everywhere, as she tried to find the words to voice the rest of what she wanted to say.
"It all just sucks … I suck and you know me; the emotionally stunted basket case. I can't handle things, I can't deal and you were the unfortunate victim to the backlash of everything blowing up in my face. You were caught in the crossfire, the slow destruction that is the mess I get to call my life."
She paused for a moment to wet her lips. Here her eyes find yours, they're not teary but her voice is low almost resigned and she pulls you in.
"I thought I had a say in my life that I had control … I thought I could make it all work out. But my best intentions always get messed up. Always." She smiles wryly but quickly drops it. "Believe me; I never wanted any of this to happen ... not with us." Her voice is raspy now. She clears her throat twice. "I've always tried to keep an eye out. I didn't want you to get caught up in any of this. But you did. Cos I failed, I'm a failure."
"What is this?" You ask not able to stand any of this any longer, "Are you trying to gain some points by targeting my sympathy towards your freaking depressing life story, which is just low and pretty desperate even for you?"
You don't even have it in you at this point to feel bad about that cloud of hurt that passes over her face.
"And yes, we all are so very informed already with all your hang-ups. But no, apparently there was something that I did. Just me doing something to incur your wrath. What was my great offense towards you?"
"You didn't do anything ... it wasn't your fault." Beca sighed heavily, tucking some loose hair behind her ears.
"None of it was. It was, um, all this is on me and you shouldn't have to go because of it, because of what I did. Me. My actions. I was the one who did wrong. And you shouldn't have to suffer for it. I'm not worth leaving the competition over! You can't, you have to stay. Please stay."
"That's the real reason why you came here tonight? To talk me out of leaving? So the team isn't put in jeopardy or something?" You're supposed to feel glad that you finally have a clue as to why she was really here but you don't know why you feel oddly disappointed. It's not like you were expecting this situation to play out exactly like the dream. You sneer trying to cover up the confusion you were feeling. "That's your real concern, ensuring your place, maintaining your chances in the competition. Wow! So this was all for show. Just when I thought you couldn't get any worse!"
"You're not hearing me here." Beca cuts you off impatiently. "I want you to stay. Me. I. Want. You. To. Stay."
"The whole team being in jeopardy comes second to that because you totally deserve to be there. You have worked hard to get where you are. Think of what you've already accomplished. How you succeeded, overcame it all even with the nodes and everything else. You more than deserve the chance, the opportunity to keep proving Barb and all those other naysayers wrong. Because we both know that you have what it takes, that you can, that you are going to make it all the way to the finals. And I'm not just saying that as your coach … that being said, don't you dare think that I don't care about what's happening with you, with us more than I care about what will happen in the entire competition."
You dare not breathe, feeling totally unprepared as Beca reveals a lot more to you than you dared to expect to hear from her.
"And that's what's complicated you see; with me trying to separate the 'us' from the 'them', balancing being your coach and being your friend … cos I can't seem to come across as impartial. It got to me how people thought I'd ever let you pass through just because I liked you. I mean I did like you, I … do … like you but it had nothing at all to do with staying in the competition. I just so happened to like a girl who just so happened to be part of the competition where I was serving as coach. I thought I could try to erase how much you meant to me by being more of a coach so people wouldn't think I was treating you differently. My feelings; liking you, it's been a mixture of guilt, of self-loathing, denial … I didn't mean for any of this to happen. "
"Well I'm sorry you feel that way." You say, almost startled by her speech and the amount she had to say.
She pauses while you take all the words in. Her words come out low and raspy.
"I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry at all. I came running after you because of how we left it, pure and simple. I hate what happened. I hate that it got that bad between us, that I let us even reach that point." She gulps visibly and you notice the tiny strain around her eyes. " Believe me, I hate, I regret everything that I said."
She looks to you expecting something, a response perhaps, but you shake your head not knowing what to say, hardly knowing how to correctly form words at the moment. You focus your gaze back down at the floor.
"Please, you know that I didn't mean any of it. If I could somehow take it back, I would. I was just, I dunno, I was carried away with the lie and with trying to cover it up. I've been in denial about how I've been feeling, what I've been hiding for a long, long time. It's my fault"
"Yeah you're right; it was your fault, it was you who made everything all shitty." You say angrily, fitting your hands on your hips as you remember the times she has pushed you away.
She visibly winced at your tone and looks to the floor as you begin your tirade.
"Or was it me? I don't know because I expected so much out of you. Because I thought you were someone else. You know what though? You knew about how I felt all this time. And you chose to ignore my feelings in place of your own. Yes, you are Beca Mitchell, Badass DJ and actress but even you shouldn't be that cruel to continually put your own feelings above everything when someone practically gives you their heart on a platter. It doesn't really matter anymore. You know after all the words we exchanged, what you said and my own feelings; we can't have anything left to say to each other. There's nothing that you can say to change my mind."
"But I thought after what I said, the latter part I mean, and all the stuff I, uh, sprang on you on your doorstep-" Beca began.
"-You remember that? Wait, weren't you completely trashed?" You ask, surprised.
"The whole 'when we kissed I never wanted it to stop'." She nods slightly to indicate her meaning. "Of course I do. I was drunk and all that but, of course I remember what I said It almost felt like the first time I spilled out my thoughts, the truth without stopping myself, without having to filter anything out. It was like some weird out of body experience. I was totally aware of my actions and to a point, what I was saying as well. Of course if I were sober I would've versed everything differently, a little more eloquently. But the sentiment was there and I got my message across-"
"-So you told me you liked me, your real feelings but you really had to be drunk just to be able to do that?" You ask. "You had to let us get to this ..."
"But I meant everything. I do want to be with you." Beca's eyes darkens two shades and you found yourself forcing your brain to think about anything but that.
You shake your head. You try to block her out, raising your hands over your ears and you are about to start 'lalalalaing' when she stands to pull them loose, to hold them in her own shaky ones. You pull them back but she holds on determinedly. You raise your eyes trying to will for her to let go. She only squeezes your hand firmly but gently.
"I want to try a hand at this, at us. I know you don't want to forgive me, that you don't trust me anymore, or at all for now. It's just, I'm asking if you could just let me prove myself, and I know my promise right now my word doesn't seem to be worth as much, in fact anything at all , but I promise you that I am gonna work at this, that I will make me more dependable. I'll be the-"
You finally yank them free and this time take her previous place on your bed. She knows better than to join you there. You let your heavy head fall resting it in your hands. Beca's hovering above you, through the gap of your hands you see her hand raise seconds later you feel her hand rubbing along your back which relaxes almost immediately, entirely against your will.
You snap yourself out of it not too long after, pulling away and her hand drops to the bed.
"-And after all of the shit you put me through you thought it would be that easy?" You grit out through your teeth, "What did you think would happen? I'd let it go, fall into your arms and we'd what, uh, live happily ever after?" You say spitefully.
"I'd hoped that you would find it in you, in that golden heart of yours, to give me another chance so that I can explain things and begin to make things up to you."
"Find it in my what? My golden heart to forgive you? You kidding me?" You laugh mockingly. "And why should I give you that. And what's changed anyhow? What made you come now?"
"I got so tired of running and I'm done doing that 'cos trying to keep away from you, all this time, it's been so exhausting!"
She really does look it.
"I was scared." Beca continued, taking the opportunity to unload everything she needed to say. "I am scared ... of everything; what this could do, what it could mean. I've tried so hard to push it all down to the pit of my stomach, to forget. I wish it were that easy. It almost seemed easier trying to be indifferent...to be normal, to conform to what people expect of me … because everything I do is scrutinised and I have to provide answers for my actions to everyone."
"Then-" You began to speak.
"-No, let me finish please Chloe. I was denying myself so bad cos I wanted it, I needed you so bad. And yet I still have obligations, there are so many boundaries that I can't break and I could lose so much … we both could. I was trying to make a safe break to pull away but you wouldn't let me. You wouldn't be deterred. But I had to I don't know protect you but by pushing you away, I... pushed too hard." Her voice turns small, shameful."And Ipushed you past your breaking point ... I never thought I'd be successful. I didn't realise how good I had gotten at this lying to myself, lying to you and-"
"-What do you want a gold star with that? An oscar for your performance? You proud of yourself?" You snap and she blanches.
"You really … think … I wanted to hurt you!? It made me sick to my stomach." You want to laugh at that but the pain in your chest won't allow it. Instead you deliver your next line deadly serious.
"And how do you think I felt huh? And really does that makes it better? You still hurt me. That doesn't go away no matter what your excuse is...and really I can't tell if you're being genuine right now." It's almost scary how calm you sound as opposed to how you're really feeling.
Look at that, you were putting on quite the performance, feeling like quite the accomplished little actress, Beca was rubbing off on you again.
Her face is pained.
"You dont know how much ... I hate myself for what I did to you."
"Well that makes two of us. But you were saying. I interrupted you, how rude of me. Do go on. You didn't realise you were such a good liar until something something."
She continues but it's like the heart had gone out of her.
"When you slapped me and ran away from me. I couldn't even think about everything else anymore. Only that you weren't there anymore, that I had succeeded way past my expectations and that you really didn't want anything to do with me anymore. And I realized that I didn't care about anything else as much as I cared about the fact that 'we' …" Beca indicates lamely between the two of you. "... weren't okay." Her voice trails off and she stops speaking altogether.
Beca runs her hands through her hair and you watch as her eyes dart about the room.
It takes her what seems like such a long moment to you to summon the courage to start speaking again.
"I told you earlier about my fears, what scares me. But what I failed to say was that the thing that scared me, scares me the most …" She continues. "... now more than ever is the thought that I've succeeded in losing you for good and all because-"
She stops speaking and shakes her head quickly, as if she was trying to dislodge bad thoughts. Why was she doing this-it was pointless. You were going around in circles. You don't know what she hoped to happen, you were being very clear shooting her down at every opportunity.
"You told me you didn't want anything to do with me, that you were better off without me, and you don't have to take it back because I actually agree with you.I know now, more than ever, that's it's true … with all that you're telling me you're only confirming … reinforcing the idea that we aren't good for each other. That we don't work."
"What I told you … it was my last shot at self preservation. My last shot of trying to pull away. All this time, it's been about that. I've tried desperately to hold myself back." Beca admits. "I was protecting myself from how I felt, how I still … how I've always felt, because you make me feel ... alive. So alive. And I can feel everything. There aren't words to describe what it is you do to me; you make me just feel a lot and I was trying so desperately, scrambling for the right words to keep you away... I knew it would only serve to hurt me more but the thing is, I only hurt myself in the long run staying away."
Those were want too many feels in one go. But like she said she was scared-she'd never be brave enough to-
" I don't want to be scared anymore." she answers like she had heard you, like she had a direct line to your head, "I'm done hiding. I want to just be … with you. Just you. Only you."
You're almost startled by how in tune she was to your thoughts at times. You'd almost forgotten. And almost like a trigger another important issue comes up,
"Did you happen to forget all about the fiancee you have stashed away somewhere along with your other luggage perhaps?" You can't help yourself but throw that into the mix.
"I can't ever forget about Jesse. He's a great guy. I know he may not seem it, but he is loyal, and caring and very, very supportive and very good to me, we have all this history and we've always had our problems but we've stuck it through. We have each others backs no matter what-"
"-Okay, um, why are you telling me all this?" You snap. Her words aren't helping you, like not at all, but her eyes silence you, telling you she wasn't done yet, you're irritated of course but the sudden darkening of her mood, stills you, brings you back down again.
"And I wish ... I wish it were all enough. Because ever since you, it stopped being just enough. Jesse and I aren't the perfect couple that everyone deems us to be. We haven't been that in a long time but getting together then getting back together with him, it seemed like what I was supposed to do. What the world expected. What was expected of me. What was right. And it also seemed like the easy way out; a get out of jail free pass from my dealing with my real feelings … my feelings for you. And when I was with him, It was easier, I could almost forget the ache in my heart. The pain that could be fixed by seeing you."
"That's unfair for you to-"
"-Forgive me when I say this, Chloe, but-I might as well tell you this, get it all off my chest. This is my last shot to convince you of the true nature of my feelings- I wasn't supposed to like you." Your eyebrows raise,
"Not your best opening." You say wryly, almost amused against your will. Beca manages a grimace. And you roll your eyes. "Yeah, go, continue … whatever, like it's going to make a difference anyway."
She kneels beside you now. Settling on one knee. You almost protest, jump up in alarm, a little understandably shocked, but she grabs at your hand, and gently tugs on it an unspoken request for you to sit back down.
"You don't want me to sit next to you and I didn't want to tower over you which Is totally uncharacteristic I should totally be enjoying the rare occasion, but I don't want to remain that way for the remainder of our conversation. I wanted us to be on the same level figuratively ... and literally."
You mutter something under your breath.
"Chloe." She says your name almost like a plea mixed with a warning. "We'll never get anywhere unless you let me finish." She looking on at you patiently. You stand for a few more seconds but then give up and sit on the bed. Seriously. How dare she sound so entirely reasonable? But whatever it's not like you didn't get something out of this the sadist in you is enjoying the thought that Beca's knees would be sore after a while. You hide the smirk and give a nod for her to continue.
She takes a breath and begins again.
"I wasn't supposed to like you." She says almost recites, like she had practiced it perhaps she had. You wouldn't put it past her. It only adds to your growing list of 'Beca not being genuine' moments. It seemed unreal. This all seemed too stilted. It didn't help that her voice was almost monotonous, lifeless.
"Not like this anyway, not with this all too consuming need, this yearning to be with you 're this girl who came into my life and took me by storm from that first time I saw you." Her eyes are trying to read into yours. Does she see only doubt, only distrust in their depths?
She's staring openly at your face. Her own is creased with worry, perhaps knowing already that you had made up your mind. Her voice changes in tone.
"And I just knew that I never stood a chance really. You were funny, clever and so, so was something about you that just drew me in like, some sort of familiarity and something else; I couldn't quite explain it I thought, for sure it would fade away but it was there, ever present, only growing stronger all the time every second I spent talking, just being with you."
Now, she was trying too hard sounding almost desperate it's almost painful to hear really.
"It scared me how easily I began to let you in and of course afterwards I tried to treat it as though it wasn't such a big deal. I had to keep you at arm's length."
She laughs but it's hollow, lacking mirth. Instead it's filled with watery amusement.
"Well, I tried to, so, so, so desperately, but it turns out I couldn't quite manage it because almost instantaneously at the same time you became my friend, you also became something more."
And yet now even as you try to not believe her, try not to believe in what she's saying, her words are hitting you. where it matters, in the right spot reaching you where they refuse to be unheard.
"It was so overwhelming, when I realized how deeply my feeling ran for you. I fought so hard against it because I never wanted things to change between us. I was scared I'd mess it up." She gives your hand a gentle squeeze.
You look down and see your had still encased in her own. How could you have forgotten all about that, how could you completely overlooked that detail.
How could so many things lead up to this with Beca on her knees before you holding your hand between hers, her face not too far from your own; Like how you'd forgotten to lock the door, no-from the beginning like how you'd let her into your house and then your room when there were several more safe alternatives,; alternatives that would've kept you away from her-her away from you out of harms way.
Your heart's thudding hard now at the realization.
You'd wanted this to happen. No matter how much you'd claimed otherwise. Your heart's thudding hard now at the realization.
"Chloe?" Beca says your name, pulling you out of your thoughts, her hands had moved to cup your cheek. She had moved in closer. You feel her breath on your face. Smell the slight lingering scent of alcohol on her lips. You meet her eyes; read their concern, read the darker familiar hue. You feel the familiar flush; the warmth traveling throughout your body.
No.
No.
You wouldn't play right into her hands. You push away said hands and all the mushiness that only Beca could resort you too forcefully.
You cross your arms across yourself. Squeezing to hold yourself together to keep yourself whole.
Beca, to her everlasting credit, doesn't question what had happened there, she waits on you as you try to gather your thoughts, as you try to catch your breath
You take in a huge gulp of air. That was so close you almost slipped there.
"I want to believe you. But I just don't know anymore. I'm so tired of everything. I'm sick of you constantly putting me in this position and I'm not sure I can give you what you want. I just don't know. You've sort of used up all your chances."
"Okay ... I understand. I'll just take my leave. It's the least I can do."
"You don't have to leave." You say, your emotions all over the place. Beca stops, quickly turning to you, it's an unmistakable the hopeful expression that passes across it. "I mean, you can do that when it's light outside I guess, um, I dunno, what do you think looks less suspicious?"
Her face returns to her resigned, controlled expression, but she tries a smile.
"Either way it's dangerous but then, I'd like to take my chances here. I'd like to stay, if that's okay?" She asks.
"It's fine. Sleep the rest of the night and go in the morning."
"Okay, I appreciate that. I can do that. And Chloe?"
"Hmm?" You mumble into your shoulder. You don't want to look up to show interest so you busy yourself with smoothing your sheets, giving something for you to do with your hands so your mind to be preoccupied with anything else than wanting to stop Beca from leaving. You had had the "dream" where things, this entire conversation, could've gone differently.
"I just wanted to say um, thanks for listening or just keeping an open mind and hearing me out and all that and also for letting the drunken me in. You could've easily just sent me out on my ass."
"No problem." You say, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.
"And just know that I meant what I said, about proving myself. I have every intention of working hard to get you back, to earn your trust again and your faith in me and I just needed you to know that. So now you know and I just, um, yeah."
"Go to bed or um, to the couch Beca. We've exchanged a lot of words and some words weren't the easiest to digest. I just need time to do that so you understand, don't you?" You look into her eyes as you speak.
"Yes of course I do."
"And all the stuff you said to me just now is also just words. I need more than that to back it up-"
"-That's what I'm doing now. If you'd just-" Beca interrupts, you hear the frustration lacing her words, and you're too tired to react on the defensive. You heave a sigh.
"-One day I'll be ready to hear you out again but please, just not today."
"Tomorrow?" Beca asks hopefully.
"Maybe." You say, offering her all that you can right now, which isn't much.
"Maybe?" She asks.
"Maybe." You repeat.
"I'll take a 'maybe' right now. Thank you." Beca says, the slightest hint of a relieved smile on her lips.
You don't realise that you've been staring back at each other a couple of seconds longer than normal till you come to your senses and step away, clearing your throat.
"You better go. Aubrey's going to be up pretty soon. You don't wanna get caught by her, she's not exactly an early morning person, and it doesn't help that you aren't her favorite person, like at all. And she totally wants to lay it on you as she says."
Beca nods in understanding. She too moves away.
"Yeah she should probably get in line; I'm no one's favorite anything at the moment. I'll probably have to get used to the feeling." She says with her old wry, depreciatory tone. She sends a little lopsided smile your way before she starts making her way out of the room. She doesn't get that far before once again stopping.
"Chloe, you never once gave up on me before, you promised you'd be there for me and you were and so now... I promise...that I won't give up on you." She says, her eyes burning an electric blue, sounding entirely sure of herself. "I'll be around. I'm not going anywhere. I'm done running please remember that."
You're almost impressed with her parting speech as she's turning away for the final time, but then Beca's foot happens to catch on one of the plastic bags on her way out there's a muffled little squeal as she takes a stumble, tripping over something solid by the door. There's an unmistakable thump, and then Becas' groan.
"Beca? Are you okay?"
"I think I broke something!"
"Oh my God, what? What hurts?" You say, your hands poised at the ready to soothe. You're patting all around her gently. You're already thinking of the first aid supplies you had at the ready. Somehow the dream where Beca had cut her foot seemed much preferable to this. You're trying to remember how to make a temporary sling, when Beca interrupts your slight panic.
"No, I'm fine I think. Just a little sore." She says and you immediately retract your wandering hands.
"What the hell? Was that your way to get my sympathy?"
"No, I wasn't talking about me. I think there's something in that plastic bag that I might've crushed on the way down. I think it somehow cushioned my landing."
You both bend down to look through the contents of the bag, or what was left of it.
"Wait a minute! This is your stuff; the Broadway poster, your other collectibles ... they're all trashed. Wait, did I do all this? That must've been some fall. I mean, I felt the impact and I thought it wasn't that strong but look at that frame. The glass is completely shattered. I'm sorry." She whispered as she traced her hand over it delicately.
"You may have contributed to their demise but they were already well on their way by the time I was through with them."
"What do you mean?" She asks keenly, her smile still present until it slowly dims. "Wait, you did this? You trashed your own things? Why?" As soon as she asks the questions, the comprehension dawns on her face. "It was because of me, wasn't it? You wanted to completely eradicate me from your life, you really wanted to be rid of me." Beca's hand stills.
"No, I simply thought it was about time I let the rest of my stuff reflect what was going on inside ... my current all over the place messed up state." You say flippantly; it's a last ditch attempt to seem somewhat cool and unaffected. But you know how pathetic you sound, how pathetic you must look; The crazy, emotional, overwhelmed fan who couldn't get her way with the person she idolised resulting in her completely losing it. Beca's silence speaks volumes and it's really getting to you.
"I don't care what you think of these heat of the moment crazy actions. The moment definitely called for it." You quickly say before the silence grows even louder between the two of you.
Beca's motionless. You really don't care what she's thinking, what's going through that mind of hers, no doubt she was rewinding back to that major fight, reliving every word exchanged between you.
You don't care but you start to wonder what she's feeling. Is she's feeling the guilt, regret, anger, sadness? You definitely weren't thinking when you did this but somehow the possibility of regret was far from your mind.
You hadn't regretted it then and you shouldn't now. It was about you and at the time you had felt like everything inside you was collapsing, like you had to hold on before you broke apart. You grabbed on to anything, and you ripped and broke everything because it felt good to do so. And when you had finally looked around at the wreckage, you realized you had held on a little too hard, for too long and you had choked the life out of it, destroying everything and it was too late. The damage was done.
"But that was all your stuff, your valuable collections, didn't you spend like a lot of money and time and effort collecting these things?" She says, her voice small and if you listened hard enough, it was thickly laced with the strain of someone holding back tears. She was biting her lip hard, wringing her hands.
"I also downed a whole tub of Ben & Jerry's all in one go, cried my heart out to Aubrey and I let you into my house. Believe me, I know my capacity for self punishment, my ability to make stupid decisions is boundless." You say harshly, the anger leaking out again, sounding lot darker than you had intended.
There's a heavy, weighted silence and you refused to make eye contact. You can feel yourself tensing all over, almost bristling and you notice Beca follows suit, copying your stance and stiffness.
"Chloe, uh, I, um ..." She tries after clearing her throat once. You glance up sharply at hearing the emotion the pain behind her tone. You grow wary, stilling yourself for what she might say. Even though you weren't quite sure there was still enough words to be said."... oh God, I, uh." She says struggling to get the words out, her hands tightening its hold on the frame.
"I, uh, I'm ..."
"What? WHAT BECA?" You snap, finally breaking, thoroughly annoyed at the theatrics. Beca jerks up in surprise.
You're not sure what you expected to happen next but it seems that she and fate had once again wanted to take you by surprise.
"I, ouch, fuck!"
You look up and see that the frame had completely given way under her tense grip; the broken glass was scattered everywhere and there's now blood seeping through a huge gash on her right palm.
"Oh my God!" Your heart's hammering wildly but you breathe slowly in and out, trying to steady yourself, calm yourself down enough to take charge of the situation. "Wait, I mean, wait here." You reach out to grab one of your handkerchiefs. "Take this, it's clean. Apply pressure until I get back." You watch as she does as she's told before you leave your room to collect your first aid kit from the shelf in your bathroom. You're halfway out the door before you turn to call back. "Also, don't forget to keep it elevated."
You quietly collect the mini dustpan and brush from the hallway cupboard before slipping back into your room. You bend down to start sweeping as Beca's kneels on the carpet and begins to pick up the pieces.
"Give me that!" You say, before gingerly taking the pieces from her. You drop them into the dustpan before taking her hand in yours. "Did you let go of the frame already? Don't you know you're not supposed to pick up glass with your bare hands?"
"Yes, I know. I'm not stupid." She says, wincing slightly as you start to pull at the handkerchief that had started to stick to her palm, ready to examine the wound.
"And yet you were stupid enough to grab on to a broken picture frame filled with sharp shards of glass." You say, without malice.
"I was only trying to help." She says sadly, almost petulantly. She quickly pulls her hand away, nursing it against herself. She looks in pain.
"You've done enough and you can't just pick up the pieces and keep trying to fix things. It's too late." You say trying once again to retrieve her hand.
"I could try gluing them together." Beca suggests, moving her hand freely, further away oblivious to any of your attempts. You sigh, eyeing her hand, pulling your attention from it, giving up temporarily. You shift your gaze to hers instead.
"Some things are beyond repair. You can't put them together again like nothing ever happened and hope for the best." You say, shaking out your curls. "You'll always have cracks that are visible."
"Not if you work hard to piece them together again. You'll see I'm good at fixing things. You'll hardly be able to tell the difference." Beca says promisingly.
"I think I'd be able to tell and plus I'd know that it was broken. Besides I don't think I want it fixed anymore. It'll be time consuming and too much of a hassle so-"
"-I'll buy a new one then. A better one, one that's more secure, more stable, just something better. You don't have to keep holding on to the past mistakes. You can start anew you know. Begin again. "
The both of you are at the weird staring contest stage again, because yes, you were aware that by this time neither of you were talking about the frame anymore.
You can't break eye contact and feel the tension in the room thicken with the unspoken words.
"I cared about that frame once, what it contained. It meant a lot. But now, it only serves to hurt people so it's probably for the best that I dispose of it." You say with a hint of emotion leaking out. You stop yourself before you go there again. Okay dangerous territory; you needed to pull away as smoothly and quickly as you can. You don't want to start anything more. It was late, or early depending how you looked at it, and you wanted to get this over with. You wanted actual rest where you woke up the next day to a better, brighter tomorrow. Not a repeat of something an endless loop of a situation that seemed inevitable; you letting Beca back in, hearing her out and slowly surely forgiving her.
"Seriously Beca, no hard feelings, okay? You don't have to replace it." You say quickly, dismissively.
Your eyes once again track to her hand, to the the handkerchief now soaked with the bright red of Beca's blood. You really should take care of that, you don't want to risk some sort of infection. Every second was crucial. You may hate her guts right now but it didn't mean you wanted her to suffer a slow agonizing painful death from a sliced palm, if not, less melodramatically, a damaged nerve or artery, did you?
And her hands were very valuable to her. You realise twice now did she hurt herself in your presence. And both times had been on the hand. You wonder randomly if it's the same hand.
Okay, you need to pull out all the stops, just to get this over and done with. See to her cut, treat it, dress it, say goodnight, then perhaps kick her out if you have to. Another second in here with her might make you cave in. No, not cave in; that wasn't going to happen, maybe just sort of weaken your resolve, just a tiny bit.
"However maybe I'll let you make it up to me."
You see Beca's ears perk up at attention.
"Yeah. Sure, of course." She blusters, nodding as she speaks.
"Just maybe; could you do one little, tiny thing for me? It'd really help me out." You say smiling, almost flirtatiously. You bat your eyelashes.
"Anything!" Beca says keenly, interested in what you had to say.
"Then give me your hand!" You say, stretching out your own. She gives a little sound of dissatisfaction mumbling something along the line of 'You could've just told me instead of getting my hopes up' before she complies. You examine her palm after she places it in yours. Her hands are so soft and warm despite the damage. There's almost this inherent need to soother Beca whenever she was in pain-but in truth that didn't apply just solely to her-you were just like that it was your natural instinct with your former medicine background. But what's different with Beca is you have to squash down the need to kiss and make better, You almost do so, kiss her fingers, until you remember that you are still cross with her. "Okay it looks deep, but I don't think it'll need stitches. Which is good but I'll have to start cleaning the wound to reduce the chance of bacterial infection. This may hurt!"
"Please, no alcohol." Beca says, her head snapping up in fear.
"Aww, but I was just about to get it out." You say a little twist to your mouth, the teasing tone coming back, feeling instinctively natural again. Especially when Beca looks up in panic again but then seconds later rearranges her face when she sees that you weren't being serious.
"C'mon then, to the washroom. We can use soap and water." You try to be quiet but you realise that was completely pointless. There wasn't anything weird about you visiting your washroom in the middle of the night or early morning. It was Beca who couldn't say anything.
You help her to her feet. Okay she looks stable, which is always a good thing. This also meant that perhaps she hadn't lost too much blood, thank goodness. You help her rinse at her hand, checking the water isn't too hot.
You watch as the water flows between her palms, the clear liquid turning bright crimson as it cascades through her fingers. You hear her take a sharp inhale at the first contact and her gasp of pain. She's trying to keep all the expletives in and no doubt needs to express how much pain she's in but at your warning look she merely bites hard at her bottom lip, looking as though she might just cry.
But then Beca actually tears up when you add in the soap.
"Holy shit, that hurts! Ouch … ouch!"
Until that moment you had lingered behind, kept a certain amount of distance willing to keep the space between the two of you only stepping in to do little things for her, helping her with the knobs and you were also the one responsible for putting soap on Beca's hand. You may have squeezed a little harder than you thought (you really don't know your own strength sometimes) and liberally applied the soap on to Beca's now surely throbbing, inflamed palm. She cries out then starts sobbing.
"Please stop." She whimpers.
"Shh!" You warn half-heartedly, but feel yourself rushing to help quickly rinse the whole thing off. There was a lot more blood loss than you first thought and you had already felt sorry for her, and a little guilty but now as she's shaking trying desperately to hold it in, you feel absolutely wretched.
You take her hand in yours and you treat it oh so gently, slowing the force of the water before carefully running it under the stream. There are still some gasps, some whimpers, but then after some time her breath slows, somewhere along the way Beca leans back comfortably into you, her face turns into the crook of your neck and you can almost hear that sigh of relief at the contact. until slowly but surely Beca's sobs start to quieten.
"Sorry." You whisper as you pat her hand dry. You half encourage, half push her up onto the sink counter, moving a good portion of your products aside so that she can perch on the edge.
"You don't have to say that to me." She murmurs in reply. You don't quite catch or understand it at all really.
"What? I don't have to say what to you?"
"The apology … I don't deserve it, so yeah. Just don't. And thanks." It takes your super hearing and powers of deduction to understand her and after repeating herself a few more times she grows silent.
A couple of minutes pass in that fashion and a couple more. She's silent now but you can feel the heat in her hand grow as her body tries to stop the blood flow on its own.
"Here, I have to put antibiotic cream on it, or something. We have bacitracin, is that okay?" You say. Beca has become somewhat docile, nodding and shaking her head occasionally but she still continues to look at you.
She looks in pain and you notice the cut on her hand is deeper than you first thought and the edges are not sticking together as you hoped they would. Her gaze is unwavering however, it's a bit unnerving actually and so you continue talking, explaining what you were doing, just to fill in the eerie silence.
"This shouldn't sting one bit but I need to make sure its spread evenly." You say, as you squeeze some of the antibacterial cream from the tube.
She nods to show she heard you.
"Also I'm going to put the sterile gauze bandage to help to protect the wound from further infection and water loss until a scab forms." You continue, reaching across for the small roll of bandage.
You finish the dressing her wound in silence, caught up in the process. You're hoping it' s a sufficient enough.
"Beca." You call out after several seconds of quiet. She doesn't respond, though her head is drooping forward, heavy. Was she falling asleep? Drifting off or was she already asleep. "Beca?" You try one more time, to no response. You look at her more closely and see that her eyes are tightly shut, her forehead creased and you can't believe that only now do you notice (maybe because the sparse almost yellowish tinge of the light in the bathroom) how pale she has become.
"Beca!" You shake her, call out her name frantically this time. Her eyes open and you never could have known how much of a relief staring into those blue eyes could bring you this moment.
"Hmm?" She murmurs out.
"What's wrong? Are you feeling okay?" You ask.
"I'm just, uh ... feeling ... really, uh, really lightheaded ... all of a sudden." She says, breathing in and out at a rapid pace. "
Oh God. Shit. Okay, maybe you were wrong. Perhaps she did need medical attention, real medical attention, and stitches ... there was a lot of blood when you think about it.
Okay, you mustn't panic, what can you do now? Where can you go?
Hospital? No, that would attract a lot of attention, but maybe somewhere that you can get her in and out of quickly like an Emergency Room or a Public Clinic.
You hear a thump and look up to find see that Beca's resting her head on the wall. Oh no! You're mind's buzzing, working on overtime trying to come up with a solution. You had to get Beca out of there, out of the house without waking Aubrey, then you would have to drive to find a safe enough place to have her treated.
"Beca? Hey, can you lift your head?" She does so slowly. "Can you, uh, stand up please?"
She nods, then does so, you hear her groaning.
"Come here, lean on me ... let's go get you someplace where you can feel much better." You pull her closer, put your hand around her waist in support and the two of you walk out of the bathroom, out of your room and into the living room. You feel Beca stop, her body poised in the direction of the sofa. She moves to sit but you gently keep her from doing so.
She looks at you tiredly, questioningly.
"I'm taking you to the hospital. I think we need to get your wound treated." You say.
You make it to the door grabbing your purse and keys along the way, all stealth mode … well, you were trying but with Beca in tow it wasn't so easy. You're surprised you've gotten this far without alerting Aubrey.
You turn the lock, uber slowly and never has the click sound seems so loud to you; you wait a couple of seconds glancing at Aubrey's door but then later rush out, or in reality shuffle out as fast as you can with Beca.
You leave her half leaning on the door.
Wait! How are you going to get there? A taxi? You could get one, but not fast enough right now. Oh wait! Yeah! Beca's car you'd almost forgotten about that. You look up an down your street but see it nowhere, you think you'd be able to spot such a conspicuous vehicle. But wait perhaps Beca had thought of that and had parked it somewhere where it would be less noticeable.
"Beca? Where's your car?" You question Beca, who lifts her head for a couple of seconds, it seems to take a lot of effort for her to do so.
"Hmm?" She sounds out, content to rest both her head and her usage of the english language. You are on full freak out mode. You are still slightly tempted to violently shake Beca into consciousness.
"Your car? Your Ferrari? Where is it?"
"No, not that car." She finally murmurs out, "I drove my incognito one tonight."
"So where's the car that you rode coming here then?" You ask, trying not to sound impatient.
"It's the black one." You look around quickly and you notice the Honda Civic parked almost directly in front of the house. Is this the one?
You get Beca on her feet again and lead down the steps towards her car and straight to the passenger side door.
"It's open." She says. You try the door handle and it gives, you sit her down and buckle her seat belt for her.
When you get into the driver's side, you are surprised to see that the keys are still in the ignition. You also can't help noticing that the car floor is littered with empty beer cans and one other empty gigantic bottle of tequila which you don't hasten to kick aside.
You turn to look at Beca but she's now completely passed out. You can't help the fear that comes over you. You didn't think the cut of her hand was that bad. You wonder if she cut through an artery. You immediately start the engine and pull the car out of the driveway and into the street, clicking your seat belt in as you drive.
The next moments are punctuated by your fear, this helplessness consuming you. Your only companion during the entire car ride from place to place is your frantic beating heart,
Where to go?
Where do you go?
And what would you have to do once you found an ideal place, once you got there, would you need to bribe someone, to buy their silence so that Beca can be treated in peace and without drama.
You pass by several potential spots but none seem to fit the bill; that Hospital was a known one, you'd definitely get unwanted attention there and that place opposite looked too dodgy.
You were running out of options fast and Beca was there bleeding out in the front seat, the dampness now showing on her jeans.
Each minute you spend driving around it seems more and more likely that Beca would probably get an infection, then get sick and you don't think she'll die from this, but it felt like it was all your fault, you'd be stuck with the guilt and everyone would blame you.
"Beca, I don't-" You begin, as you look through the windows looking for the place.
"-Chloe." Beca's voice wafts up, snapping you back. "Calm down, okay? Please stop panicking. Do you know any place or anyone at all who could help?"
"No? Don't you think I would've thought of that by now, if there was." You say your voice raised. You can't help it; you're feeling thoroughly freaked out;You're at your wits end.
But then wait a minute. A lightbulb moment. There was someone. Someone who lived conveniently close by.
"Coleen Palley!" You almost shout in giddy relief, smiling triumphantly.
"Coleen Palley!" She echoes weakly. "Wait, who?" Beca asked, raising a lazy eyebrow.
Coleen Palley was someone you had interned with at the same center before you had moved.
When you had taken some medical courses back in College you had been close friends. You had heard from her several months ago; she had let you know that she was now in LA after completing her third year residency and you had always planned on meeting up and getting together but that hadn't quite happened with everything that had been going on recently.
Perhaps now was a time for an informal, spur of the moment reunion. You may not be as close as you used to be, but you remember how she had your back all those times before.
You flip through your phone, hoping she hadn't changed her number since the last you had called her almost six months ago.
You dial the number and await her pick up; you hear the ringing once, twice, several times. You sigh; it had been worth a try. You're about to give up when-
"Hello?" you begin tentatively."Cee?"
"Carrot?" You smile at her old nickname; one of several for you. While you only called her Cee. Together you were the two C's. Chloe and Coleen. Coleen and Chloe. C & C.
Dozens of memories were connected to those names.
"Chloe! Is that you? Oh my God, it is you!" Her voice loud in it's excitement, you hold the phone slightly away from you ear."What're you … " she pauses, and there's a drop in her voice "-you bitch! I haven't heard from you in months! I saw you on TV! How're you? How's it feel living your life long dream?"
"Wow! You were always bright and inquisitive but that was you just taking it to the next level!" You say, temporarily forgetting what it was you were supposed to be doing; you're grinning from ear to ear hearing her voice. You catch Beca staring at you, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion at your peppiness. "But yes, I'll answer all your questions. I, uh, I need, um, Cee, can you, can I ask a favor? I know it's been a while but I could always count on you whenever I needed something. And I kinda really need something, plus your discretion."
"Why? What's wrong? Are you okay? Where are you? What can I do?" She immediately responds, her excitement and enthusiasm fading, her voice level and calm. You sigh in relief. You're really grateful for this girl. It had been a long time since you had last talked or made contact even but here she was being the good friend that she had always been to you, not hesitating to help and her concern in hand. Ready to help with no questions asked.
"That's the thing. I'm just by the highway leading up to your part of the city. Can I see you?"
"Of course! What do you think I've been trying to you get you to do these past few months? Can you find your way okay to my place if you still remember the address?"
"Yes. One I have it and two, I also have GPS. And, um, I have to tell you; I'm bringing someone, a patient for you to see, it's, uh, really urgent, but I can't really explain it now, you'll see for yourself when I get there. I'm sorry if I'm being all weird Cee."
"No, I'm used to the whole weird part." Coleen laughed. "It's one of the many things I miss about you. Man, we had the best times way back when-"
"-Yeah, I miss that." You say, cutting her off before she began regaling the stories of your misspent youth. "And I missed you too. Sorry though, about the early morning out of the blue call."
"It wouldn't be so out of the blue if you called more often." she says in a tone much different from earlier, much more serious and there's this little pause before she gives her lithe laugh, moving on from that tiny moment. "But I can't fault you. I know you've been very busy as of late. We both have. So, of course, any opportunity that arises to meet up, I'll take it! Even if it is at 2 am for some secret backdoor operation kinda thing."
"Yeah, like I said weird situation."
"It's okay, I'll just roll with it. Come on over already. My home office door is wide open!" She says and you can hear the giddiness in her voice.
"Somebody's excited!" You say, smiling.
"Well duh Carrot, I haven't seen you in forever. I'm getting tired of only seeing you on the TV."
"Yeah you'll be seeing my ugly mug soon enough. I'm just driving into the city limits now. Give me ten minutes tops and I'll be on your street."
"Yay C and C reunited!" Coleen laughs again. You'd forgotten how carefree and easy she was. "You better give me the lowdown on everything. You know, anything and everything controversial!"
Out of the corner of your eye you see Beca scoff and roll her eyes and you wonder what that's about.
"Huh! Fine!" You say, mock annoyed.
"Okay, no need to get huffy! I'm doing you a favor, remember?"
"Yeah, you'll keep it over my head for years to come. I'll be talking to you face to face soon you can hang up now."
"You know I love yah!" She laughs, the happy lilt so familiar.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." You growl under your breath as you hang up and spend the next few minutes driving in silence.
"Friend of yours?" Beca asks, breaking the silence.
"A very good friend of mine. From my …" You pause, unable to describe Coleen to Beca. "... she's one of my bestest friends. I only have a couple."
"Besides me?" You look up sharply and she backtracks immediately. "I, I mean, Aubrey." You didn't mean to look upon her unkindly, it was just the status of your bestfriend-ship was highly questionable right now.
"Yeah but in a way a different closeness than Bree and I have. More, um, uh, more intense. We interned together, serious medical stuff before I gave it up for SPED. She went on to do some general surgery before her third year residency."
"Oh, what did she specialize in?" Beca asks.
"Ophthalmology."
"An eye doctor?" Beca interjects quickly, trying not to sound skeptical, but the doubt's all over her face.
"She's a really good doctor. You'll be lucky to even be treated by her." You say proudly.
"Okay." Beca says, noncommittally.
As you finally pull into the destination, you are struck by a sudden queasiness in the pit of your stomach, a slight buzz of nerves,"Yup, we are here. Oh wait, don't get out just yet I have to quickly fix …Jesus. I look like a mess." You say rapidly, trying to tame your curls before giving up and bring it up into a ponytail.
It had been a while since you've seen her last. Sure on the phone it had seemed normal but what if things were different between the two of you now. You had temporarily-no matter how unintentionally-written her out of your life for the past year. It had been almost two and half years since moving to Los Angeles, life in College, as an intern it seems and feels like so long ago-like a different life entirely.
At the corner of your eye you notice how Beca eyes you as you fuss over your appearance, her eyebrows raising before they furrow. You let out an exasperated sigh at the state of your skin-you pinch your cheeks to add color to your face.
"What are you fixing yourself up for? It's not like you're going to go out on a date with the woman." Beca trails off and you notice her line of sight and what had caught her attention.
She was hard to miss. Coleen's beauty with her sparkling green eyes, strawberry blonde hair and modelesque build never failed to render anyone speechless; no one had believed her back in med school that she wasn't a model, that she was serious about pursuing medicine. She had a hard time trying to prove herself as anything other than a beautiful face and right now, she looked the part, fitting the mold. Picture perfect and poised, these past months apart had suited her well. She looked gorgeous waiting at the steps by her place.
"There's my girl!" Coleen says, when you exit the car.
Besides the sudden leap of joy, you are struck with that quick irrational fear that Beca would take to her. The thought is quickly dispelled to back of your brain when Coleen wraps you up and hoists you off your feet and starts swinging you around.
"I can't believe you're here!" She squeals as she plants a noisy kiss on your cheek.
"Well believe it! Because I am!" You say, getting caught up with her enthusiasm quickly.
"Let me look at your gorgeous face!" She says happily. It's been a while since you've seen her this happy and you feel a little pang of guilt. She had really missed you. And you, you hadn't spared her a second, not one fleeting thought for her in months. The shame, the guilt twists at your stomach. You more than have to make it up to her. You let yourself get lost gazing back at your dear friends face, feeling a tender smile come on. Your grins become bigger and bigger and your eyes grew shinier the longer the two of you drink in the subtle changes in each other.
"Damn woman, how is it possible that you've gotten even prettier?!" She finally concludes.
"Me? What about you?" You laugh quietly as she steps back to look at you again. "Have you graced any magazine catalogue spreads lately?"
"Yes, I have in fact." Coleen says with a wink. "Doctor's weekly! I published a medical journal."
"Oh cool! Congratulations! Oh, um, sorry wait, um, speaking of Doctor ... I, uh, need your help." You stutter out.
"Yes, despite what you said over the phone, I gathered this impromptu visit in the middle of the night wasn't just a social call. So, Carrot, what is it? Have you hurt yourself? Did you feel the need for an eye examination at this hour? What's going on?" She says and smiles as she tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear, her fingers lingering slightly too long on your cheek.
"There's … um, I'm with someone." You say, inexplicably feeling your face flush at her delicate touch. You swallow hard and force yourself to think about Beca bleeding in the front seat of her car. "I mean someone is with me in the car; she's the one who requires your medical attention."
"I see!" Coleen says, glancing towards the passenger seat. "She's unlucky."
"Huh?" You say, confused. "Why? You haven't even seen her yet."
"Well, Chloe, you are a major distraction babe." She winks at you as she speaks. "I'd only give her 75 percent of my attention you see. I'd be too busy remembering that time in-"
"-She'll need your full attention Cee. Please. It's important. Please. She will need you." You say strainedly, avoiding Coleen's playful face.
"Chloe? Are you okay? Why so serious?" She asks immediately.
"It's a pretty serious matter. Come on, I'll show you." You look towards the car and your heart gives a jolt where just a few seconds earlier Beca was propped up and wide awake now she was nowhere to be seen.
You race as fast as your feet will carry you back to the car. You hesitate for the briefest of seconds before you move to open the passenger door. Your hand lingers on the handle as you can see through the glass that Beca has now passed out lying flat on the car chairs. As the door pops open, Coleen looks over to you and smiles, eyebrow raised and you know from her expression she is fighting with herself not to laugh at you being so deadly serious.
Her smile fades when you stand aside of the door, reaching over to unbuckle the seat belt around Beca, tucking your fingers against her neck to check her pulse.
"Um, Chloe?" Coleen speaks quickly. "That's, um, that's Beca Mitchell."
"Yup." You say simply in reply. You kneel down by the side of the car and gently pull Beca's legs out from the footwell. You know she is alive, but you'd rather she be laying down while she recovers from her faint.
"Why … I mean, what are you doing with her at 2 in the morning?" She laughs but it doesn't sound like her usual carefree lilt.
"Long story." You say as you bend over Beca to grab her under her arms. "Please, she's cut her hand and she's been bleeding quite badly. I need you to see if it's bad that we would need to get her stitches."
"Damn Chloe. You do get yourself into all sorts of scrapes, don't you?" Coleen says, without a hint of malice in her voice. "Here, let me help you get her out of the car."
"Grab her legs or something. Please, be careful."
"Carrot, what do you take me for? Don't you remember that I know exactly how to handle a girl properly?"
You feel your face flush slightly as you both manage to manoeuvre Beca out of the car. She had come round a little as you had lifted her out of the front seat but she was still groggy and offered very little help. Supporting her carefully, you made it up the stairs without dropping her and in through the front door of Coleen's apartment. You plop her down on the couch and find a blanket to cover her with.
Coleen stares down at Beca for a moment.
"Why didn't you take her to a hospital?" She speaks quietly. "Or … oh yeah ... because she's Beca Mitchell. And it would look weird and suspicious, wouldn't it? And would attract a lot of attention; her being rushed to an ER in the early morning. Sorry I answered my own question!"
"With the paps, it would be awkward." You say, watching Coleen as she carefully picks up Beca's hand, turning the palm over.
"Wow, that is pretty deep. But you did a good job cleaning and dressing it up Chloe. What did this?"
"A glass picture frame broke in her hand. She was picking up the pieces, trying to fix things and make it better … I mean, trying to fix it; the frame. She must've squeezed it too hard."
"It's fine. Her hand will be fine. It won't get an infection." She smiles in approval, "Look at that, Dr. Beale's still got it! You took really good care of it, of your patient." You smile wryly and shake your head.
No, I was totally losing it back there." You say. "I didn't know what to do. She was all light headed, and I thought she was just feeling tired and wanted to sleep it off but then she was suddenly unconscious. I panicked, I totally lost my head for a couple of seconds-I would've been the worst doctor ... unlike you."
Coleen shakes her head in disagreement. "Not true. You're just out of practice is all." This time you shake your head a tiny bit amused knowing whatever self-deprecatory thing you said she would vehemently disagree with you.
"I don't know why I didn't think of you sooner. But when I did I just knew that there couldn't be a better person to go to."
"Aww, thank you Chloe. Thank you for thinking of me." She smiles, her eyes shining brightly at you. "But I think you are right, she'll be needing stitches. It won't take too much to close up the wound but it would aid healing and shouldn't scar."
It seems like those were just the magic words to help Beca return to the living. She wakes up just as Coleen is preparing the local anaesthetic. One of her hands is holding Beca's comfortably in her own, the other poised to administer the needle.
"What the hell?" Beca pulls her hand back, out of Coleen's grasp. She tries to sit up but then falls back into the couch again. "Oh! My head!" She groans, presses her hand to her head. "Ow, my hand!" You almost leave your seat to go to her but Colleen sends you her all to familiar 'I can handle this' look stopping you in your tracks.
"Woah there Miss Mitchell … Beca. I'm Colleen by the way, or Doctor Palley, whichever you wanna go with, Chloe's friend." She smiles soothingly, her whole demeanor, her smile is exuding even welcoming trust and so naturally, Beca is wary. "Slow down a bit there, OK lovely...and try to calm down a bit." Coleen says, reaching for Beca's hand again.
"Woah there Miss Mitchell … Beca. I'm Coleen by the way, or Doctor Palley, whichever you wanna go with, Chloe's friend." She smiles soothingly, her whole demeanor and her smile is exuding warmth, welcoming trust and so naturally, Beca is wary. "Slow down a bit there, OK lovely and try to calm down a bit." Coleen says, reaching for Beca's hand again.
"How can I calm down when you were just about to stick a gigantic needle in my wrist!" Beca exclaims, looking horrified and it's all you can do not to laugh out loudly, nervously. You're all keyed up, feeling a whole jumble of emotions right now.
"If you know a better way to numb the pain so that I can start stitching you up I'm all ears!" Coleen says teasingly but there's a slight bite to her tone.
"You're going to stitch me up?" Beca asks, what little color she had left immediately draining from her face.
"Yes." Coleen deadpanned, casting a quick eye in your direction. "Stitches! A cut this deep generally does require the action of stitching up. If only to avoid slow motor functions and um, slow comprehension to say nothing about the scar you'd carry. So stitches … you need them."
"Are you feeling all right Beca?" You ask, noting the look of genuine fear flitting across her face. "Are you feeling lightheaded again?"
You turn to Coleen and address her.
"Why is that by the way? She kept passing out. Did she lose too much blood or something?"
"Don't think so, but y'know some people get queasy over a little blood."
" It wasn't a little, it was a lot." You nod, and to show Coleen just how much, you move the blanket that had previously been obscuring Beca's blood stained pants out of the way.
"There was just so much blood. I really hate blood." Beca says quietly you notice as she starts trembling uncontrollably. "Sorry I'm such a baby with these kinds of things. I hated, correction, I still hate everything to do with the hospital after my Mom … I also used to get lots of blood tests and I had one particularly bad experience during a blood transfusion." She shudders again, she looks at the two of you watching closely. "But anyway, I'm not good with blood. Don't judge me."
"Aww, you're adorable." Coleen says. You shake your head for her to discontinue this, you glance back at Beca and to your surprise, she doesn't get angry like you were expecting. "Now I can totally understand seeing that much blood would make anyone feel light headed. It wasn't really about the blood loss if you get what it is i'm saying. It depends on the person how much he or she can withstand which, in turn, depends on factors such as body size. An adult generally has about ten to twelve pints of blood. A large man, however, can have have about 13. Obviously, someone with 13 pints would fair better losing blood then someone with only 10. A child or very small adult … and this is where I think we've hit your category. I think you would have less than 10; I mean, you are quite tiny. Smaller than you look on screen. This is why you MUST be 17 and be above a certain weight to give blood and only can ever do it every eight weeks. The amount taken at blood donations is a pint. For some people that is enough to cause fainting. For most adults it does take more than a pint. Almost anyone would pass out around a two to three pint loss. Four to five pints would be lethal for most people."
"Wow, thanks for the medical lesson." Beca snarks, and you recognize the closed off expression immediately. She shakes her head a little. "Sorry, that was uncalled for. I thought I had a higher tolerance to all of this."
"No, it is not not about having a higher tolerance." Coleen continues to explain and you know that she is doing her best to draw Beca's attention away from her inserting the needles into her wrist. "You just are not losing as much blood as you think. You can't have a resistance to passing out. Your body would just not be able to function. Take two cups of water and dump it out on a table and look at how much that REALLY is. However SEEING your cuts or knowing how much you cut or how big or whatever means NOTHING. All it takes is one small cut in the wrong place and you could bleed to death. You could have many many large cuts that hit no major veins and don't pose that huge of a risk of blood loss."
Beca nodded and showed she had understood the words.
"The main reason for recommending stitches with cuts is to promote healing and prevent infection, not just because of risk of blood loss. If your blood loss was a risk you would have to get a transfusion. But I really don't think we are at that stage.
Beca looks down at her hand and notices Coleen has given her the local anaesthetic. She tries to flex her fingers and looks up in surprise.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure there'll be minimal scarring." Coleen says, catching Beca's eye and her worried expression. "I'm kidding! There won't be a scar and no lasting damage at all. Wouldn't want to mangle that extremely valuable hand of yours!"
Beca looks about ready to protest, her face openly staring into Coleen's eyes and Coleen is returning the gaze just as fiercely. Coleen wouldn't budge, you remember that from old days.
Beca sighs and nods her head in acceptance before offering her hand in defeat.
Coleen takes Beca's hand quickly, lest she change her mind. She moves quickly but with purpose,
"Hold still, this will hurt but it's just a little pinch." Coleen murmurs as Beca scrunches up her eyes. "Just breathe normally, inhale when I tell you to. Breathe in, then out, in then out. Breathe in." She says her voice soothing Beca, who does finally relax, before injecting her again.
Beca merely lets out a little squeak and doesn't complain.
"You okay?" You mouth, catching her eye. Beca manages a little smile, though she still looks sickly.
"How you doing Beca?" Coleen asks.
"Fine." Beca gasps out.
"If you're nervous you can look away so you don't have to watch the suturing. l always find looking at something pretty relaxes me." She pauses and looks at you. "You can look at Carrot."
"Carrot? The vegetable?" Beca says, obviously confused.
"No Carrot the person! Carrot top … redhead … ring any bells?" Coleen tilts her head your way again.
"Of all the nicknames you could give her, you choose the obvious stereotypical one-" Beca snorts.
"-Why, what do you call her?" Coleen interrupts.
"Mine is Chlo. Plain and simple." Beca says, almost proudly.
"Hmm okay! You're the one that went for the obvious; the shortening of her already short name, nothing original or special about that nicknaming skill." Coleen deadpans.
"It's better than naming her after one of the worse vegetables ever! I's right down there with Brussel sprouts and Broccoli." Beca spits out.
"Better than sounding like some weird fake French pronunciation of Claw." Coleen says, a wicked glint in her eye.
"Children behave." You admonish. "Who's the supposed reputable doctor here?"
Coleen frowns looking sheepish. Beca smiles but stops when she sees the look on her face.
"And Beca you really think it's the best decision to upset the person with the needle in her hand?
The two of them look sufficiently chastised. They both settle down and resume the suturing process quietly.
Coleen begins working silently as she cleaned the area around the wound and you recognize the way she works, the habit of poking her tongue out slightly is still here. She pulls the suture kit closer towards her and her fingers work quickly.
As the suturing progresses, the two of them start to exchange pleasantries, haltingly at first, but then later trading stories back and forth. Coleen has taken to updating Beca on your 'very-way-back-when-epic friendship' (her words, not yours) as she begins to stitch Beca's hand. Beca too recounted your brief, normal friendship. She only speaks of the good times, of course.
The two of you used to always catch up this way, her telling of her present woes, a difficult patient or how tired she was with studying. You would mostly share stories about Beca, (she was your favorite topic during those times) which you hoped to God, Coleen would keep to herself.
While you're glad they seemed to be bonding over a topic though you would've preferred something that didn't involve you, or them comparing notes. But you know why she's doing it. She'd always been good with patient care and right now she's beguiling Beca, keeping the patient entertained, engaging her in a topic that interested her.
"This woman here is the reason I passed Psychology 101." She tells Beca, flashing you her sunny smile. Usually highly effective on her patients; thawing the worst of moods and yet has little to no effect when directing it at Beca.
"Yeah?" Beca asks lazily, and you think that tiredness is now playing a major factor in her grumpiness.
"Yes indeed. Sat up with me for hours, revising, explaining everything I couldn't understand. Chloe knew, well knows exactly how I tick, She knew exactly what to do and how to make it almost painless. And together with her being with me, there was just clarity, everything just made more sense." Coleen pauses for a moment to look at Beca directly. "You know that feeling? When things just make sense, whether you agree with them or not, the outside world may disagree but you know it's all right within your heart and you just have to go for it."
You squirm ... a little uncomfortable. You had forgotten how forthright Coleen could be at times. Though what she said had somewhat confused you. There were so many ways it could be interpreted but the latter part was definitely her calling out Beca. You decide to change the subject quickly before it got too intense however Coleen was already ahead of you reverting back to the College days story. Her attention back on you now.
"I just wanna say that Miss Beale here saved my neck if not my life dozens of times. You were my whole support system back in College. Without you, I wouldn't have made it." She says and while there was humor in how she was saying it, there was something more, something deeper and more intense.
"And don't you forget it! I'm the sole reason you're a doctor." You joke, to lighten the mood.
"This woman and I … I tell you Beca, we've been through, I can't even begin to tell you what we've been through but I'll safely say, it's a lot." Coleen says warmly and catches your eye. "Let's start from the begiining shall we and work our way from there."
You listen and reminisce as Beca starts to really enjoy some of the stories Coleen is regaling. You're almost catapulted back in time, you remembered those days like it was yesterday. Beca's laughing her head off, finally feeling relaxed around Coleen. You had had your doubts but Coleen had once again weaved her magic and found a way to break through the ice.
It was so natural to get caught up in the memories, to reach out and be touchy with each other once again. She would occasionally take a break and pat your leg with her free hand. Nudge you with her arm resting against you when she grew tired.
"... then there was of course the college professor that Chloe fell madly in love with. Much like she did with yo-"
"-All right, that's enough stories!" You interrupt, casting an eye towards Beca, to see if she was still laughing. You'd been taking note or her reactions and earlier she had seemed okay. But steadily as the stories went on and on, her mood seems to have dropped a bit. And now far from looking enamored, Beca now looks, there was no other word for it ... rather suspicious and was taking in your interactions with Coleen through carefully concerned, narrowed eyes. Her eyes were now focused on your hand that had wandered to Coleen's shoulder. You almost drop it but Coleen briefly leans her head on it, acknowledging the gesture, briefly smiling up at you before she moved back to Beca's hand.
Coleen, however, was on a roll as she gets another story out. She's happily recalling the time when you had flashed your teacher, to help a friend get out of a difficult mock test paper.
"Sounds like wild times."
"Well you don't know the half of it. That's just the tame parts."
The sewing artist is a professional; alternating talking with her neat, tiny sutures. She is used to using small stitches and you know the risk of a lumpy scar will be almost non existent. She's preoccupied with her work; her eyes are on what she's doing but occasionally she raises her eyes to her audience. She smiles when she catches you staring out into space. You had blanked for just a bit and you finally raise your eyes to hers.
"Chloe's got my most favorite pair of big b-" Coleen murmurs almost randomly into Beca's palm after completing another stitch. Beca and you have similar reactions.
"Excuse me?" Beca finally sputters.
You almost choke on your own saliva as you start coughing. Your face is red, not just from spluttering but from what she had said.
"Eyes." Coleen says, laughingly; amused at your reactions looking up to meet both of your faces. "Her eyes, they're my favorite pair of big blue eyes. I know it sounds weird."
"Very." Beca scoffs.
You silence Beca with a look.
"But it's kinda like an ophthalmologist thing." Coleen explains. "Her eyes. They're such a beautiful shade of blue, like the purest of ice. Absolutely gorgeous. I mean, how can they not be when you look at the rest of her? Everything about her is stunning."
You roll your eyes at her compliments and her harmless flirting. She had always been like that but Beca doesn't seem so approving of her advances.
"No, not ice." Beca says determinedly. "Chloe's not cold at all. She's more like a refreshing swim after a hot, hot day. She's relief. She's comfort, like a drop in the ocean but with the glow of a deep blue summers day sky."
"Wow! I see why you one all those songwriting awards." Coleen winks at Beca. "That was pretty and so are your eyes by the way."
"So, you notice eyes a lot?" Beca asks and takes in Coleen soft green eyes. "And yours are really, uh, nice too." She concedes.
"Yeah, can't help it. I just see things, it's like when someone tells you what your best feature is your eyes, your nose or your lips and you automatically tend to pick those out or compare it to other people. So yeah, eyes fascinate me. I like how you can read so much out of them and that the eyes themselves reveal so much. More than actual words sometimes." Coleen explains. "You know that thing with friends or family members where you have that intimate or long standing relationship. Where you know when they don't need to trade words only glances to know what they're thinking?"
"Yeah." Beca says, hanging on to every word.
"We used to have that. Chloe and me."
"Yeah." You say in agreement, looking up and seeing Coleen beaming at you, and Beca frowning at her, her eyebrows knitting comically together.
"So safe to say that you two were pretty close." Beca asked, a thickness in her voice.
"The closest. Closer than really we should have been. We were together all throughout first year to second year." Coleen says looking directly at Beca before she bends down to inspect her work. "And, and I am done. Voila! So keep that clean and dry for 48 hours. The dressings on the wound, it should be changed daily. Finally, if there are signs of infection i.e. spreading erythema or pustular discharge you need to be reevaluated by a physician." She says all business. "Or maybe Chloe could just come back and bring you to me again."
Beca nods slowly she manages to smile a little.
"Thank you. How much is the service?"
"Well, we need to consider the other charges, laceration repair typically costs $400-$650, depending on complexity, not including doctor fee, which can add hundreds of dollars, plus the emergency room fee, which can cost $200 to $1,200 or more."
"But, we weren't in an emergency room." Beca says slowly in her confusion.
"But this was an emergency therefore I'm christening my office as an emergency room." Coleen says, her poker face intact and her eyes glisten when they catch yours, inviting you to jump in.
"It's all in the handbook." You join in, biting your lip to keep from laughing at how ridiculous you both sounded.
"Like an unofficial rule." Coleen continues.
"Unwritten rule in the book? Huh aren't you contradicting yourself?" Beca asks.
Then you both burst out laughing, leaving Beca confused.
"I wasn't being serious of course! It's fine Beca, all taken care of. Besides, it was because of you that Chloe called in a favor and I finally heard back from her and I got to spend time with my best friend. I actually kinda owe you one. Which reminds me, do you remember when …" Coleen launches into another familiar story.
It's several minutes later and you now had mugs of hot cocoa for you and a coffee for Beca and some snacks that had long since been polished off.
You glance at the time and was actually shocked it was past three already. 'Holey moley' you thought to yourself, knowing you had to get going.
"I'm sorry, Cee but we have to get going …"
"But the clock already struck twelve, it actually just struck three Cinderella! What's the hurry?" Coleen asks and you raise your eyebrow at that. "But I only just got you back!" She pouts. You pull on your most apologetic face. "Fine!" She stands up, finally conceding. "Okay."
You offer to help clean up. She refuses but allows you to help carry the mugs to the sink. There we only three but whatever, you felt better for doing something.
You start to say your farewells. The two girls; your past and your present, at least part civilly and friendly enough. Beca thanks Coleen a few more times. Coleen gives Beca last minute reminders and her work number to call.
"Or you can get this girl here to call me more often. She has my private number." She says, pertaining to you. She gives Beca one last friendly hug.
Beca walks ahead while you and Coleen linger by her front door.
"So this is what we'll resort to? What we have to make sure that we keep contact with each other? Beca Mitchell?" She's all smiles but there's that same sad tone. "I'll take it, I'll take what I can with you."
"No, of course no! C'mere." You say, taking her into your arms. You're about to pull back but she reaches to pull you tightly against her. You can't help comparing this action with how it was hugging Beca. You note how good it felt to be the shorter one, to be the one curling into the other person's chest and feel like the one being protected, the one being pulled in tighter.
"Nope, not done. I've been missing out on way too many of your Chloe bear hugs."
"RAWR" You growl into her chest. You giggle. She pulls back.
"There you are. You finally look like you again." She smiles, reaching to pinch your nose. You only just got away.
"What do you mean? I can only ever look like myself that's kinda how it goes! Unless you think I've had something done or whatever…"
"Why did you?" She fake gasps and laughs as you you punch her arm. "I meant you've been looking stressed and I suppose it's because of the competition and the other things."
Her eyes briefly stray to look behind you.
"You should really get out and do some more fun things-relaxing things. You should have some downtime, start seeing people outside the competition. You know I'm always here for you when you want to do said relaxing fun things." She says, earnestly.
"I know." You briefly remember that one night of intern year when the whole day had been bad, exhausting and you had been running on a high fever, you had pissed off both your attending and your resident by making one mistake that affected the whole case of the patient. You remember being so scared but when you broke down, she was there, holding you. She even got herself into trouble and sabotaged her chance at sitting in on a surgery so she could stay and take care of you. She stayed awake the entire night till your fever broke, nursed you back to health.
"Just promise next time you won't need an excuse like this to come see me." She said, looking right into your eyes.
"Cee. Don't worry I definitely won't go disappearing off on you again."
"Well yeah you shouldn't have done it to me in the first place. It's been hell without you, I've only just been getting by."
"Don't be so dramatic, it doesn't suit you." You tease. "But yeah I know; things happened that I couldn't control, you know? The whole career first thing, work now, play later and it just got out of hand. Forgive me?" You hear the words coming out of your own mouth and it sounds similar to what Beca had said to you. You look back and see Beca dawdling down by the road some several steps away. It turns out you did understand her and you really did know where she was coming from.
You aren't sure what emotion you are feeling right now, but you know it's laced with an emptiness.
The entire ride back Beca's rather testy. You've been trying really hard to make small talk but she keeps making little noncommittal noises to your topics of conversation rather than using words.
"Coleen's the youngest in her department in UCLA Med Center. They are nationally ranked number 5 in her specialty; Ophthalmology." You say, your voice laced with pride.
"Hmm." Beca mumbles as she stares out of the car window.
"What's up with you? Is it your hand? Are you in pain?" You say as you pull up outside your apartment.
"Nope." She replies, popping the 'p' as she undoes her seat belt and moves at lightning speed to get out of her car.
"So, what is this? Is this because you're really tired? Because we both are-" You start to speak as you walk up the path to your front door.
"-Well you didn't lose several pints of blood, did you?" She snaps, her eyes darkening immediately, as you turn the key in the lock. You don't really have an answer for that (actually you did, but you didn't want to push it as it would be entirely pointless to argue with her and to point out that it had been her fault why she ended up bleeding so much in the first place). You know that it would most likely add fuel to Beca's foul mood so you let it slide. You keep silent and wait for Beca to be the one to start up the conversation again.
You don't have to wait long.
The two of you enter the house as quietly as you can. When you're done closing the door, her voice comes softly from behind you.
"No it's just … the … um...Okay, what we've been talking about non-stop the entire car ride home is your supposed best of best of best friends. I get the memo already. Coleen was a superstar, she was amazing and stuff and a real saint to boot."
"- Okay seriously what is wrong with you? You've got a problem with her accomplishments or something? She does eye surgery on kids in Africa-"
Beca scoffs and you suddenly feel quite enraged, tossing your door keys down noisily. Beca notices your change in demeanor and speaks quickly.
"No, I've got nothing against the kids with eye disorders in Africa. It's just, I'm just adjusting and stuff, okay? How come I'm only hearing about her now? How come you never mentioned her before? It's like she popped out of nowhere."
"Really you're talking about not sharing secrets. And for one thing it's not like I actually meant to not talk about her she just never came up. And why are you so concerned anyway? It's just proof that I did have a life prior to the competition."
You're tempted to say it's none of her business when her next sentence catches you off guard.
"You're both really touchy with each other."
"What?" You say, trying hard to laugh, unsure that your heard her correctly.
"Nothing." Beca says simply, shortly.
"So you're mad at me for being touchy?" You ask incredulously. "Seriously?"
"I'm not mad at you. I'm, it wasn't you. I am not mad at you Chloe." She repeats, her voice softening. "Yeah, I'm tired ... please forgive the whole … I'm sorry for snapping. I don't know what's come over me."
Maybe you're tired but suddenly it's all making sense the way Beca's acting and you almost laugh again, feeling completely thrown by the sudden role reversal. You were the one who felt unwarranted jealousy. Like how'd you'd been upset over her spending time with Cynthia, Stacie and Amy even Anna on occasion.
"Were you jealous or something of Coleen and me? She was only messing with you, the two of us were only ever friends."
"Jealous? Me? Why would I be?" She scoffs, even snorts in disbelief but seems to stop herself when she looks you in the eye and sees your raised eyebrow. She stumbles out her next few words. "I mean, fine, it's just there was some … some thing between the two of you. I felt it and it … it didn't sit well with me. I didn't particularly like it." She stutters and sighs heavily before continuing. "Fine, yes, I was jealous." She spits out all in one go
You squash down the fluttering in your chest and soldier on despite the red tinge coloring your cheeks.
"Admittedly she, uh, did express her past crush on me ..." Impossibly you feel your cheeks become redder. You don't miss her scowling, the lines clearly visible on her forehead. "But that's ancient history before we even became close, before I knew you."
"You sure? It seemed very present. And, uh, if you ever were interested I can totally understand. She's, uh, nice. And you know pretty and really tall-"Beca concedes."-if you like-if you're into that sorta thing." she adds.
"I'm sure! Well of myself at least. I'm kinda, uh, preoccupied at the moment. I've always had a passion for one thing, something that I'd been willing to go to the ends of the earth to pursue." You say wistfully.
You're wondering at that revelation as you feel as though that had left your mouth without passing through your brain first. You really must be that tired as you no longer felt the pressing need to be furious with Beca any longer, if you were honest with yourself, it had been ebbing away throughout the night to the early morning. The more meeker, gentler, softer side of you peeking out; the real you.
She's definitely more acquiescing, more prone to giving in to emotions.
"Yeah, you're getting closer to that potential diva stardom everyday with the competition!" Beca mused.
She's also wishing, half hoping that Beca could take a hint.
"Yeah, of course … yes, right … the competition." You say false enthusiastically, unable to keep the disappointment from lacing your tone.
"Wait, who were you talking about-" Beca asks, slightly more interested than she was just moments before.
"Uh, never mind. Get some rest." You say, turning away not wanting to deal with that particular part of the conversation right now.
Beca steps in front of you blocking your way to your room.
"Chloe are you … were you trying to say, are you saying that you've changed your mind?" She asks, a playful, hopeful tint back in her voice.
"No! I mean yes! No, I, uh, I don't know." You say, your mind trying hard to process what you need to say. "It seems like its happening too fast. Or at least, that I'm letting you off the hook again, doesn't it?"
"But you're not. You haven't ... I'm not. I won't, no I can't let you let me get off so easily. I need to prove myself and win you over. I'm prepared to beg for your forgiveness. Whatever it takes we can start over from the start, I don't know … as friends. It'll be difficult but maybe that's how it has to be. For a while at least? We can decide the rest later on, when the dust has settled. The problems seemed to start when I began to want something more. It was so much better before-"
"-No, I don't want to go back." You interrupt. "We definitely can't go back to the way it was before." You say with finality.
"Oh." Beca looks completely crestfallen. "I thought-"
"Because, I want for things be different. We can't go back now, we've shared too much." You explain. "We can only move onward, we have to move forward and try a hand at being better. Whatever this is between us …" You gesture with your hand to emphasis your meaning. "God knows I can't, we can't just be friends anymore."
"So, wait …" Beca says slowly. "You mean …?" She sounds and looks almost too afraid to hope.
"I'm pretty sure I'll regret this, but I am willing to give you one last chance." You admit, casting an eye towards the floor.
"Chloe, look at me." She says gently, slipping her fingers under your chin to raise your eyes up. She looks into them seeking confirmation. You look steadily into hers, you don't know what she sees but she smiles at the sight."That's all I ask for and perhaps a day for me to try to win you over to the idea. A casual outing with just the two of us, going somewhere, making plans, just being together and spending-"
"-Okay that's enough planning. Did you hear the part about it going too fast?" You laugh gently a bit nervously. You try not to be so obvious when you try to move her hand away, she frowns and you look on apologetically but you squeeze her hand to give her something, maybe some reassurance? You were still a tad uncomfortable with her touches and you found that you were still holding yourself back. "But I guess I can work with that."
"Get ready Chloe; I am going to sweep you off your feet." Beca says bouncing back seemingly undeterred, smiling earnestly.
"Woah. Don't get ahead of yourself Beca Mitchell!" You try to be commanding but a smile pulls up the side of your mouth at the brightness and renewed interest in her eyes. "It's late or early whichever way you want to look at it. It's 4 am and we're both tired. Lack of sleep is robbing us of our better judgement."
"You're saying you might regret it?" Beca asks, suddenly solemn.
"It's still too early to tell. Ask me later, okay?" You quietly reply.
"I will ask you." She smiles, suddenly determined. "I'll keep asking you and I will definitely be pestering you until you get sick of me or until you, you know, you really want me to stop. Then, of course, I will. But till you say so I'll never tire of easing and erasing your fear, or any other lingering doubt. Not tomorrow, nor the day after that and the day after that."
"I guess you'll just have to prove it to me." You playfully demand. Though your words are entirely serious. Beca seems to understand.
"Oh, I will do more than that!" She nods laughs easily and it dawns on you how much you've missed that laugh."When can I start?"
"Well like I said you'll have to ask me again-I don't know that anything from tonight will count. You know too much happened at least tomorrow it's an entirely brand new slate."
"Well technically, it's … I mean officially it's today." She says. "Can we end or begin the day on a good note. I've been wanting to do this the entire time."
She leans in and you nearly jerk away but she only pulls you into a hug; it's soft, warm and tight all at the same time and it feels like coming home.
You don't want to admit it even to yourself how much you'd missed this even as your hugging period extends to one that wasn't exactly normal, trying to remain in that position but of course, it has to end and she sighs when she too comes to that conclusion.
"This doesn't mean anything, it doesn't count so ..." You say to excuse your actions.
"Yeah but it feels good though." You almost pull away at that, "Yeah it doesn't have to mean anything." She agrees and pulls you in again.
She squeezes you one last time … and releases you from within her arms but she doesn't let you get too far when she suddenly presses a soft kiss to your cheek and then doesn't move away. "Does this count?" Your heart sort of speeds up and slows down simultaneously.
Once the surprise wears off you become more aware of your other feelings. You feel her breath tickling the fine hairs as she places a second, softer kiss to the same spot. "What about this one?" Your heart and your body is battling with your thoughts; the pounding in your chest proving how much you wanted her.
Your remaining reasonable thoughts, the little voice in your head, shouting for you to remain in the right frame of mind. The voice is almost winning out, you're prepared to pull away ... but then there's this pause in between and it feels like the longest pause ever filled with every little emotion you'd been feeling up to this moment all battling for dominance.
The silence, the pause Beca makes, her hesitation is glaringly … loud.
It was your move, your decision. You still hadn't made up your mind, hadn't decided what to do until you turn your head and meet her lips in a softest of presses. Feel yourself give in and almost melt into her. Beca doesn't move and so you take the lead on this one. It doesn't last long, it does need to but in those few short moments, there is everything that cannot be fully expressed laid into that electrically charged kiss; short but sweet and pure.
"So did that count?" She breathes as she pulls away.
"Shut up and kiss me." You say.
Minutes later the two of you continue to kiss on the sofa, but both of you are too tired to even attempt to reach the same point that you had had in your dream.
Many times the two of you start to drift off and you'd wake up with your lips still pressed to each others and resume again. This time you try to see if you can still reengage her but Beca's eyes are shut close.
"This night was surreal." You murmur. "I can't even believe half of what happened, it all seemed like some weird dream."
Beca nods tiredly and her eyes flutter open when she yawns. You give a yawn of your own immediately afterwards.
"Speaking of dreaming, we better crash before the warden wakes up. I'm beat." She half-mumbles, her mouth heavy with sleep. She manages to stay with you a couple more seconds before she starts nodding off again.
"Yes, you're already sleeping anyway." You smile, wanting to end the night on a more light hearted moment. "Don't come knocking again!" You say, flicking at her nose. She groans and half-heartedly tries to swat it away.
"I probably won't. You should sleep too." She says, lightly touching your arm in goodbye but there she is again stopping you, her hand and her sleep filled eyes still manage to hold you. "I wouldn't mind." She suddenly says.
You decide to humor sleep talking Beca some more.
"What wouldn't you mind" You ask.
"I like us, like this ... our pillow talks are awesome" She says not at all answering your question.
"Beca you were saying something about what don't you mind?" You prod her.
"Mind over matter?" She snorts out, slightly delirious now.
"You said something about minding?" You tickle her and she gives a gasp as she comes to. "You were saying 'I wouldn't mind-"
"-I wouldn't mind waking up to you every morning for the rest of my life." She says lazily, her eyes still closed.
Your heart thuds.
Hard.
She then opens her eyes and smiles and you feel like as you're staring at each other, feeling like you were seeing each other clearly now, possibly for the first time. And then her head falls backward and she starts snoring; impossibly having dozed off again. Like she had quickly gotten over it.
You imagine she believed she had said something cute, sweet even and not at all of huge impact. And maybe she was right? If you could also accept an atomic bomb being described as only mildly life-threatening. She'd probably wouldn't remember anything but you wouldn't forget it, she had dropped a bomb and it's resounding inside your head.
"G'night." You say.
"Sleep well, Baby." She murmurs.
And, yes it was too early to tell if you would regret that moment. That time where you gave in and allowed yourself that one moment of complete surrender.
She'll have to ask. And you will have to ask yourself that again much later as well, because as of right now, with your current state; feeling like you all but floated back to your room, you are completely and utterly useless.
Your head only touches your pillow after you'd quietly closed your door after watching her on the sofa for the last few minutes. And there the floaty feeling inside is replaced with something else, something infinitely more powerful.
You were given the security of knowing that this hadn't been a dream. Even as you feel your heavy lids shut. You were still feeling everything from the way you were holding the giggles at bay to that giddy smile on your face ... feeling anything like regret.
