A/N: So, this is very late. I ran into a problem writing for day eight because the prompts were either wedding or cheating, and I spent far too long trying to write for wedding (largely because I don't generally like cheating stories.) And it just... wasn't working. So, in a last ditch effort to see if anything would happen, I gave cheating a go. And then this happened.
The thump of music reaches every corner of the Treble house, shaking the walls and compelling people to dance. The lights have been turned off, replaced by neon strobes that cut through the darkness and flash in time with the beat. The colours bounce off of the fake fog being pumped out of two small machines on opposite ends of the house. There are glow sticks in the hands of and light up hats on the heads of many of the party's attendees and the floor is slightly sticky from spilled alcohol.
Jesse had said the Trebles had been planning this party for weeks and Beca has to admit that it's paying off. Everyone seems to be having a good time; she hasn't even spotted the stereotypical 'girl crying in a corner while her friends comfort her' yet. Jesse himself seems to be having the most fun; Beca has seen him standing on the furniture addressing the crowd multiple times during the evening. He'd managed to embarrass her earlier, calling her out and letting everyone know how amazing his girlfriend is apropos of nothing.
She'd quietly slunk away to the kitchen in search of more alcohol.
The guests are mostly made up of a cappella group members, with the occasional outsider thrown into the mix. It's a breeding ground for a lot of sing-alongs performed at a volume that rivals that of the music and Beca is relieved when Chloe finds her, leading her by the hand away from sweaty, writhing bodies.
Beca expects them to head toward the kitchen, but that's her first mistake.
Expecting.
Expectations, Beca has learned, are wholly unreliable.
She'd expected to be in L.A. by now.
She'd expected her father to be a decent human being and not force her into college when she had zero desire to go.
She'd expected her mother to put up more of a fight, to be on her side.
Instead of the kitchen, Chloe leads Beca towards the staircase. They wind their way through stragglers, huddled in groups of two or standing alone away from the party. Wanting to escape the action for a minute without risking the possibility of missing something.
Beca had expected college life to be boring. That she'd keep her head down and just barrel through until the end of the year.
And then the end of the year had arrived and things had changed as they so often do. Now, Beca was Captain of a team she hadn't been sure she wanted to even be a part of not that long ago, and they'd taken a championship she suddenly cared about from The Treblemakers. And it all feels good, despite the unexpectedness of it all.
When they reach the top, Chloe stalls, glancing to her left and then her right, unsure which hallway to choose. With a breath held in her chest, Beca tugs Chloe's hand to the left then meets her gaze as bright blue eyes flicker over Beca's features. One side of Chloe's mouth lifts in what looks like pleased amusement, but Beca lets her attention slip away so she can't be sure.
Chloe takes up the lead again and then they're leaving everyone else behind, letting the shadows of the hallway swallow them up.
When they stop, it's in front of a closed door and, palms suddenly sweaty, Beca twists her hand out of Chloe's to wipe both of them across the front of her jeans. She hears Chloe laughing softly, but doesn't look up. Not until she hears the door opening and feels Chloe's fingers catch the cuff of her long-sleeved button down, holding tight and easily bringing Beca into the room behind her.
Once inside, Beca surveys their surroundings as best she can with the lights off. The street lights do an okay job of illuminating things and she can see that the room is half packed up. The bed remains, though void of any coverings, and there are trophies still lining one of the shelves. Various personal items are strewn about in an unconcerned manner, as though the one-time occupant hadn't been able to get out of there fast enough.
"Do you think Bumper left all his crap for the guys to pack up?" Beca asks, the first words spoken between them in over an hour. She hears the click of a door closing and her sleeve is pulled taut as she takes a step towards the shelf with the trophies, reminding her that Chloe hasn't let her go yet.
"Probably." Chloe's sigh fills the room with genuine sympathy for the Trebles and it makes Beca turn back to look at her. With visible, perhaps overly-dramatic reluctance, Chloe lets go of Beca's sleeve. "But I didn't bring you in here to talk about that."
Even in the darkness, there's a shine to Chloe's eyes. Hues of dangerous, tumultuous energy colour them, capturing Beca's attention and kicking her heart rate up a few notches.
"Oh yeah?" Beca asks after a moment of heavy silence, her voice surprisingly strong and even. "Then what did you bring me in here to talk about?" She watches as Chloe brings her hand to her mouth, making a loose fist and resting the front of her index finger against her lips. She smiles around it, wide and wicked, and Beca's heart trips against her ribs as Chloe takes a step closer.
"Oh, Beca," Chloe murmurs, dropping her hand and tilting her head to one side as her words drip desire and promise. "You know I didn't bring you in here to talk."
And of course Beca knows.
She might not have followed so willingly if she didn't.
This time when Chloe steps forward, Beca takes a purposeful step back, and one of Chloe's eyebrows lifts in mild surprise.
"Sorry," Beca breathes out, shrugging. "No idea."
"Oh." Chloe furrows her brow in feigned confusion, but her feet don't stop and neither do Beca's. "I guess I must have misread the situation."
Beca's back hits a shelf, rattling what she assumes are the trophies she'd been looking at before, and she jumps at the sudden roadblock, blinking wide-eyed at Chloe who's now right in front of her. Looming like a spectre, though there's no doubt in Beca's mind that she's real.
Spectres are cold and unfeeling, lacking solidity.
Beca can feel the heat radiating off Chloe's body. Her hands are warm and unyielding as they find purchase on Beca's hips, pressing them against the wall and holding her there. And she knows Chloe feels something when Beca lets out a quiet gasp of arousal, her own hands catching Chloe's upper arms in a vice-like grip. Beca sees it in her eyes, hears it in the sharp breath that Chloe pulls in past parted lips.
Ghosts don't look at people the way Chloe is looking at her now. Like she wants to rip away Beca's outer layers and make her forget her own name.
It wouldn't be the first time.
No, the first time had been during the ICCA's afterparty, when they were high off their win and drunk on both alcohol and victory. What had started as a drunken thank you kiss from Chloe had ended with them both panting and half undressed in a room the purpose of which Beca couldn't remember to this day.
Mere hours after kissing Jesse for the first time, Beca had come undone with Chloe's fingers inside her and her mouth on her neck.
It had been sloppy and frenzied, and a one time thing that happened while they were both drunk. It hadn't meant anything and so Beca had decided to just move on from it. Forget about it and the idea of telling Jesse, because there wasn't any point ruining something that had only just begun with something that didn't mean anything.
Chloe didn't bring it up the next day or the day after that and soon, enough time had gone by that Beca had been able to trick herself into thinking of it like a dream. Something that had happened in a slightly different life, to someone who was only a little like her.
Until it happened a second time.
The High Notes were throwing a party for a reason Beca was unsure of. She'd thought it was maybe someone's birthday but no one actually mentioned a birthday and there was no sign of a cake. And while it was quite possible that the team members were all so baked they just flat out forgot to celebrate, it was also entirely plausible that they were so stoned, a party had just seemed like an awesome idea.
They were drunk again, not that alcohol was an excuse, and with Beca not yet living at the Bella residence, Chloe insisted she walk Beca back to the dorms. It wasn't far, maybe a ten minute walk, but they kept getting distracted along the way. Benches, street lights, what was possibly a squirrel but more likely a leaf blowing by; many things captured their drunken attention and it took them twice as long at the very least to arrive at Beca's door. Beca unlocked it and they both stumbled in.
"Right," Beca said, hand fumbling along the wall for the light switch. "Kimmy Jin isn't here." Light flooded the room and, after shoving the door closed, Beca ambled forward to flop face down on her bed. "I can finally sleep with both eyes closed."
"If she hurts you," Chloe slurred, fierce and determined. "I'll, well, I'll beat her up."
Beca burst out laughing, turning her head to look at Chloe, eyes crinkling against the bed covers and a smile curving her lips.
"Have you ever actually been in a fight, Chloe?" Beca asked.
"Have you?"
"Well, I did punch that Tone Hanger guy," she pointed out.
"Oh yeah," Chloe grinned, making her way over to Beca. "That was kinda hot."
The air in the room changed immediately, the fog of inebriation being replaced by an even thicker fog of something unspoken. Unspeakable. Unthinkable, even, because Beca had tried so hard to forget about that night at the ICCA's. The rush of adrenaline and euphoria, the way Chloe's hands and fingers had felt on her skin, inside of her.
It all came back in crystal clear clarity in that moment, the force of it sending Beca bolt upright, her thighs clamped tightly together.
"It was?" she asked, feeling dumb and dazed as Chloe nodded and took a seat beside her. "Oh."
They sat in silence for a minute, knees almost touching, and Beca's mind tried valiantly to race with thoughts, but the alcohol in her system wouldn't let her. She just kept tripping over the same three things as her heart pounded in her ears.
"It's late." Chloe's voice broke the quiet and Beca met her sidelong glance head on. "I should go."
"But who's gonna walk you home?" Beca frowned, a new thought scratching at the back of her brain.
"I'll be fine," Chloe assured her, but just as she was about to stand, she paused. Glancing at the door and then back to Beca. "Or I could stay? Go home tomorrow when it's light." Her fingers brush over the back of Beca's hand, making her jump and bunch the bed cover in her fists.
Chloe wasn't just asking to sleep over. In fact, if Beca was right, if she said yes she doubted they'd be getting any sleep at all.
She tried to clear her head, tried to will the alcohol out of her system so that she could think straight. But Chloe was sitting so close to her, her fingers uncurling Beca's from the duvet and then lifting her hand. Slowly, gently, Chloe kissed the pad of each of Beca's fingers, never breaking eye contact, and Beca's head began to swim as her breathing became slightly laboured. She kissed Beca's palm and then brought the hand up to her cheek, covering the back of it with her own as she leaned into the touch.
"We don't have to do any-"
That time, it was Beca who crashed into Chloe, lips first.
In the back of her mind, she was telling herself this was wrong. So, so wrong, and awful, and selfish. But Chloe made Beca feel good, like everything was right, and like she'd suffocate if she stopped.
That time, Chloe was just patient enough to get Beca out of her shirt and bra before making her come all over her hand. Beca's neck muscles strained as her head tilted back, the force of her orgasm making her rigid as Chloe's lips closed around her nipple and her fingers carried Beca through her climax and then down from it.
And Beca panted and gasped, and opened her eyes to find Chloe's eyes dark and hungry above her.
"I'm glad I stayed," Chloe laughed, dipping her head down and nipping at Beca's neck before soothing the bite with her tongue. Beca's toes curled against the mattress and she couldn't help thinking that she was glad too.
After that, Beca stopped counting.
Not that it was an everyday occurrence, far from it. No, the moments that found them sequestered away from prying, judgemental eyes were often weeks, sometimes months apart. It was always just long enough to make Beca think that it was done. Make her forget. Think that, yes, she'd fucked up a lot, but now things would be okay and Jesse didn't have to find out because it wouldn't happen again.
But then Chloe would look at her with that twinkle in her eye and that damned smile curving her lips, and Beca was lucky if they made it somewhere private before they attacked one another.
Everything she feels when she's with Chloe is so much more than anything else she's ever experienced and she hates that. Hates that sweet, kind Jesse can't wind her tighter than a spring with little more than a look or get her so worked up without laying a finger on her that, when fingers do finally get involved, Beca gets off embarrassingly quickly.
It became like a drug, as cliche as that is to say, but Beca couldn't deny the truth of it. Chloe intoxicated her, made her high as a freaking kite, and Beca couldn't stay away.
Amy's birthday was a wild affair and though it had been contained to the Bella house, that didn't stop anyone from treating it like a night out in Vegas. Cynthia Rose invited over a bunch of the Treble boys and it didn't take long for her to reveal why; strip poker. Amy was elated, Beca was just glad Jesse had to work at the station that night and would miss that particular activity. They weren't at the 'clothes off' stage yet - partly due to them taking things slow and partly due to her own insecurities - and she really didn't want to see him naked for the first time in front of a bunch of other people.
Beca certainly wasn't about to take part and so she sat on the sidelines drinking as various articles of clothing were discarded from the players at the table. And it was fine, fun watching people act like idiots, but as Beca got closer to the end of her beer - the number of which she couldn't recall - her eyes kept wandering over to Chloe.
The redhead never claimed to be any kind of poker prodigy, which was good because she definitely wasn't. Beca watched Chloe remove her shoes, socks, sweater and t-shirt, until she was sitting in nothing but her jeans and a bra. And when it came time to reveal final hands, everyone whooped and hollered as Chloe, unabashed, stood and began to unbutton her Levi's. Beca took that as her cue to leave, hiding her strange discomfort behind the excuse of needing to use the bathroom.
On the upper floor of the Bella house, Beca pretended to go through the motions and exited the bathroom just in time to see Chloe walk by on her way to her room. Clad in only her bra and panties now and with her clothes hanging limply in her hands, Beca found herself frozen in the doorway, unable to do anything but watch. And as if sensing that, Chloe glanced back at Beca over a bare shoulder and flashed her a smile that was simultaneously shy and alluring - magnetic - while her eyes beckoned Beca to follow.
So, Beca did.
And she didn't make it more than three steps inside the room before Chloe's lips were on hers. Clothes dropped and forgotten in piles on the floor, Chloe lifted her hands to shove Beca into the door. It closed with a thud and then Chloe was on her, popping open the button of her jeans pressing her body against Beca's in a way that made Beca feel like she was on fire. An inferno; chaotic and destructive, without remorse.
Chloe's fingers worked her off in minutes, leaving Beca panting and barely able to stand. And Chloe held her up, still pressed close and with Beca's fingernails digging into the skin of her shoulders, before leading her slowly towards the bed.
There, Chloe rested her hands on Beca's shoulders and gently urged her to sit on the edge of the mattress. And maybe it was the alcohol, but Beca couldn't stop staring at her friend. Near-naked and smiling down at her.
"Take off your pants," Chloe asked and Beca surprised herself by not thinking before she complied.
Chloe took such care in removing Beca's shirt, peeling it from her body in a manner that was agonising as well as welcome. It gave Beca extra time to catch her breath while Chloe drove her mad. Then the shirt was gone and Chloe was kneeling so that they were more or less at eye level, a question on her mind that didn't need to be spoken aloud. She reached around Beca, unclasped her bra, and slowly eased the straps off her shoulders.
Just like that, Beca was naked from the waist up, chest rising and falling with deep, shallow breaths as Chloe's eyes left hers to travel down. Leaving Beca to watch with nervous anticipation as Chloe drank in the sight of her. There had been silence for one long, endless moment, and then Chloe had snared her lower lip between her teeth and glanced back up at Beca.
And Beca will never forget the way Chloe looked at her then, not for the rest of her life. It was all desire and lust, and something else that Beca couldn't place until Chloe spoke again.
"You're so beautiful."
She came again with Chloe's head between her thighs, a writhing mess on another girl's bed while her boyfriend stacked CDs across campus. The thought was enough to give her pause, to drive a needle of guilt beneath her skin.
But it wasn't enough to stop her.
And so Beca removed the rest of Chloe's clothes with shaking hands, eagerly seeking out and sinking into slick heat with a groan that Chloe had to smother with a kiss.
"Did I?" Chloe asks, bringing Beca back to the present and she blinks, glancing around at what was once Bumper's room in a half-hearted effort to find a way out of this, just to annoy Chloe.
"Mm, what?" she replies, trying to sound distracted as she continues to flit her attention about the room. Chloe's not going to roll over so easily, though, and she raises a hand to Beca's face, firmly gripping the brunette's chin and forcibly tilting Beca's head until she's looking into Chloe's eyes.
"Did I," Chloe breathes, relinquishing her hold on Beca and brushing the back of her fingers across her cheek, "misread," as she slips a thigh between Beca's and pulls a sharp gasp from her, "the situation?"
"Jesus," Beca groans, letting her head fall back against the shelf behind her. Her hips twitch involuntarily, the desperation to move against Chloe's thigh trying to override Beca's better judgement. But she laughs internally at the thought; as if her better judgement has ever won a single contest against her desire for Chloe.
"Did I imagine you watching me all night?"
Warm lips find Beca's neck and press open-mouthed kisses along the length of it, travelling up until her earlobe is snared between sharp teeth. Again she gasps, her hips shifting with purpose now as Chloe slips a hand beneath Beca's shirt and drags her nails across taut skin.
"Answer the question, Beca." The demand is soft but stern and Beca can feel how wet she's getting just from the sound of Chloe's voice in her ear. Her hips jerk roughly as Chloe shoves Beca's bra up above her breast and then covers it with her hand, squeezing firmly as the hand at the back of Beca's neck scratches lines of pleasure along the length of it. There's a good amount of contact this time, the seam of Beca's jeans hitting just right, and she lets out a whine of a moan when it isn't enough. Never enough. "Answer it," Chloe whispers, dragging her thumb over a stiffened peak before letting both hands fall to Beca's waist. She curls her fingers into the band of her jeans and lets them hang there as she tilts her head and just barely brushes her lips against Beca's. "And I'll touch you anywhere you want me to. Any way you want me to."
Beca's head spins as all of the possibilities attack her at once, turning the tingling between her legs into an insistent ache. And god, she shouldn't, but she wants Chloe. She wants the Chloe who's sweet and caring, tender and soft. And she wants the Chloe who's rough and dangerously playful, who's more than happy to bend Beca over the nearest suitable object and fuck her into next week.
She wants Chloe. And as guilty and as horrible as that makes her feel, she can't make it stop.
But she isn't strong enough to break things off with Jesse. She loves him, but apparently not enough to avoid betraying him in the worst way possible. Over and over again.
Jesse is safe. He isn't scary. And what Beca feels whenever Chloe touches her is terrifying.
"You didn't," Beca expels an uneven breath, caught solidly in the gravitational pull of Chloe's eyes. "You didn't misread anything." She knows what she's saying, what she's really saying. She's telling Chloe that she wants this, just as much as Chloe does and, hell, maybe even more.
"Good girl," Chloe practically purrs, then tugs hard on the front of Beca's pants, jerking her against her thigh once more. Beca bites her lip to stop herself from moaning. "What do you want as your reward?" and the way Chloe is looking at her, Beca can't describe. All she knows is it makes her skin crawl like fire is racing just beneath the surface, trying to find an exit point that doesn't exist and so it keeps rolling around, building, until Beca feels like it's going to consume her.
"Fuck, Chloe," Beca grinds out, half annoyed by the smug grin her friend is wearing. "Please, just fucking touch me."
With a happy, lilting laugh, Chloe deftly unbuttons Beca's jeans and bends to drag them down her legs. She leaves them there, bunched at Beca's feet, and rises again.
"My leg is wet," Chloe smirks, grabbing Beca's hand and placing it against her thigh so Beca can see for herself.
"Not as wet as I am." Beca blurts, then twists her hand away and closes her eyes, chest heaving.
"I love it when you talk dirty." Chloe laughs again and Beca is about to respond when she feels a hand between her legs, cupping her over her underwear. She breathes in deep and exhales shakily, and then Chloe's fingers are moving against her. Stroking her without rhythm, messy and teasing against soaked material. "Is this all for me?" Chloe asks, slowly circling her fingers and shifting slightly closer, as Beca's hands scramble to find purchase. They grasp and cling, finally settling with one gripping Chloe's shoulder and the other tightly curved around the back of Chloe's neck. "How badly do you want me?" Beca grunts, rocking her hips forward against Chloe's fingers, and for a few moments that's how things stay. With Beca moving against Chloe's stationary hand as their ragged breathing fills the room.
Then Chloe kisses her. Kisses her with an unexpected edge of fierce, aching passion that Beca hasn't felt from her before. Her tongue sweeps in to stroke against Beca's, slow and thorough, turning Beca's world on its axis and evaporating the ground beneath their feet.
She barely registers the fact that Chloe is yanking her underwear to one side, but the second her fingers brush against Beca her back arches, like there's an electrical current flowing through her, and she rips her mouth away from Chloe's to pant and gasp, and throw out a litany of curse words that all amount to the same thing in the end; more.
Beca claws uselessly at the back of Chloe's neck and shoulder as Chloe sinks two fingers inside her, crying out loudly at the exquisiteness of 'finally.' With their heads bowed and temples pressed together, Chloe tilts her head just so and tells Beca she needs to be quiet. Withdrawing her fingers slowly, Chloe holds them steady against Beca for a few seconds before pushing them back in. This time, they both make noise; another cry from Beca, a low, satisfied groan from Chloe.
"You feel so good," Chloe breathes into the scant space between them. "God, I just want…" she trails off, burying her head in the crook of Beca's neck and working her fingers in a slow rhythm that reaches deep inside of Beca and pulls out feelings and other things that Beca didn't even know were there.
Beca wants to ask what Chloe wants, wants to know what the end of that sentence is, but there's no way she's going to be able to get words to leave her right now. Not in any way that makes sense. But then any thought of trying is erased completely as Chloe pulls out and Beca feels a third finger pressing into her. Not far, only testing, waiting to see what Beca will say or do.
Heat and desire roar inside Beca, an undiluted want that fries synapses and quickly drives her mad. Suddenly feeling out of control, she twists her foot, lifting her leg and shaking it. When Chloe, distracted as she is, finally realises what Beca is trying to do, she steps on the pile of denim at Beca's feet to hold it in place. With another wiggle and a tug, Beca's leg is free and she immediately hooks it over Chloe's hip, spreading herself open and pulling Chloe close. Chloe doesn't wait, maybe can't, and in the next second Beca feels the blissful, burning stretch of three fingers filling her with agonising slowness.
Once she's all the way inside, Chloe stills, letting Beca get used to this new fullness, but it feels too good and Beca doesn't want to wait. She squeezes the back of Chloe's neck, prompting the redhead to look up, and Beca's heart stutters as she takes in her flushed features and blown pupils. She swallows, hard.
"Keep going," she says, fingers clenching involuntarily against the muscles in Chloe's neck. "Please." Chloe stares at her, wearing an expression Beca can't decode in the moment. She kisses Beca again, nipping at her lower lip before pulling back slightly and looking down between their bodies to watch as she withdraws her fingers. Beca watches her, watches the small smile creep onto her face as Beca whimpers and shudders and cants her hips forwards in a plea for Chloe to return.
Chloe does. Sliding back into Beca with the same slowness as before, but this time Chloe doesn't pause. She creates a rhythm that Beca is only too happy to follow, rocking her hips forward to meet each thrust of Chloe's hand and locking her leg in its place slung over Chloe's hip.
Immediately, Beca can feel her climax building. She tries to stay quiet, tries to keep her moans and whimpers to a minimum, and it works right up until Chloe changes things.
Beca feels the way Chloe's muscles tense a little, hears a new kind of grunt or growl that sounds something like dissatisfaction, and then Chloe's thrusts become more demanding. Hard and deep, and Beca throws her head back, smacking the wall and barely noticing, as she lets out a keening cry unlike any sound she's ever made before.
Suddenly her mouth is being covered and her eyes fly open to find Chloe staring at her, pace unfaltering and free hand pressed firmly against Beca's lips to muffle any more sounds.
"Do you want everyone to hear us?" Chloe asks, sounding as out of breath as Beca feels. "Do you want someone to find us in here? Then run off and tell everyone what they saw?" Her voice is rough and husky, and Beca feels herself getting inexplicably wetter at the sound of it. "Beca Mitchell, half naked, being fucked against a wall by someone who isn't her boyfriend." There's a touch of venom to her words, especially the last one, but Beca isn't focused on that. Or what it means. Or anything other than the way her breathing is being restricted and how she almost blacks out from pleasure everytime Chloe slides in that last millimeter or two. "Come on, Becs." The nickname sends a shockwave along Beca's spine that morphs into a tidal wave of pleasure as Chloe curls her fingers and the butt of her palm brushes against that bundle of nerves that makes Beca see stars. "Can you be quiet when you come?"
Huffing into Chloe's hand, all it takes is two more firm strokes before Beca's falling apart. Eyes screwed shut and hips tilted out towards Chloe, rigid, as she shudders and shakes and comes hard in Chloe's hand.
She thinks she must black out then, because the next thing she's aware of is Chloe pulling out. There's an immense sense of emptiness that fills her then and, unable to stop herself, she whines at the loss of contact.
Chloe's hand is wet where it rests at Beca's hip and she's breathing about as heavily as Beca herself, head angled down and fingers gripping reflexively.
And this is the moment they can never avoid. The proverbial cold bucket of water that gets thrown on them every time they do this.
"I should get back to the party," Chloe murmurs, pulling away from Beca without looking at her. "Before someone comes looking for us."
Chloe doesn't usually sound so morose, though. Remorseful, sure. Even though she isn't the one doing the cheating, Beca knows Chloe feels guilty. But now it seems like Chloe is feeling something else, too.
"Wait, don't you want-" Beca starts, adjusting her underwear and slipping back into her jeans. Chloe turns and silences her with a small smile that doesn't quite meet her eyes.
"It's okay. You can get me next time."
With that, Chloe opens the door to the room and lets the sounds of reality rush back in. Then, she's gone, closing the door again but leaving all that stark reality behind.
Beca runs her fingers through her hair, feels the newly created tangles, and glances down at her dishevelled state.
"Shit," she mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose and sliding down the wall until she's sitting on the floor.
She hates herself for what she's doing. She knows everything about it is wrong and that if Jesse ever finds out, it'll cause a break Beca will never be able to fix. And she wants to stop, she does.
Except part of her doesn't.
And she hates herself for that, too.
All that time ago, Beca had never expected to see the overly cheery redhead from the activities fair again after turning her down.
She'd never expected Chloe to turn out to be the one person she couldn't say no to.