A/N: Okay, so these are quite obviously written in more than a minute, haha. Oops! Maybe I should just drop the whole time limit thing and just write (increasingly random) drabbles. I'm sure you guys don't care either way. XD
And I'm not going to lie, one of these ficlets is part of a larger story I've been trying to write for a while already but haven't been able to get off the ground, which I'm disappointed about. I'm not saying which one (it'll probably be obvious) but I'm curious to see if there's any interest in it.
Also, the general consensus seems to be that I should expand on 'Assumption' from last time, soooo... I'll see what I can do.
Flute
'You play?' Chloe asks in surprise, picking up the flute that she just found in Beca's closet. Not that she was snooping or anything – Beca is in the room, after all. It's just that Chloe sometimes just gets curious. She only intends to glance in one drawer, and before she knows it she's pulling open every door and searching every nook and cranny, demanding explanations for everything she finds. Still, Beca doesn't seem to mind... Or maybe she's just gotten used to it, if the mildly exasperated expression she's wearing right now is anything to go by.
'Used to. Before I really got into the DJing stuff.'
'How long did you play for?'
'I dunno. Five years? Then I picked up the clarinet and the piano as well. Although after a while I got bored of them and antsy to try something else so I used to go to my cousin's house all the time and beg her to let me play her guitar before my dad got me my own...' She trails off when she realises Chloe is staring, wide eyed. 'What?'
'How many instruments do you play, exactly?'
Beca shrugs, like it's nothing. 'I don't know! A few, I guess? I never really thought about it.'
'And you say your dad bought you these things?'
'Yeah... Although I bought the DJing equipment myself. Took ages to save up.' She smiles a little, proud of herself even though Chloe knows she's trying to hide it.
Chloe turns over the flute in her hands. Despite its obvious age, it's still good quality, and probably fairly expensive. Beca's dad would have had to drop a fair bit of money to get this for his daughter, along with all the other instruments he seems to have bought her over the years.
She glances up at Beca, seeing her curious look. 'Beca, are you sure your dad thinks your music is "just a hobby"?'
Age
'Hey birthday girl,' Chloe breathes into her ear as she steps behind Beca, putting her hands on her arms and squeezing with just a little too much pressure to be friendly. Although Beca flinches a little, no one around them notices, though; they just go on getting drunk, (presumably) in Beca's honour. 'How are you enjoying your party?'
'It's good,' Beca replies awkwardly. Not just because of the situation, but because Chloe is pressing herself too close, enough that she can actually feel the button on her jeans digging into the small of her back. 'Great, even.'
'You don't look like you're having a lot of fun.'
Beca searches desperately for some sign of slurring in Chloe's speech, anything to explain what's going on in a way she can understand (Chloe + alcohol = extra touchy feeliness, it's simple math) but there isn't any; and Chloe's breath, which is blowing over the left side of her neck, merely smells of something fruity that she doesn't have the brainpower to place right now.
Beca knows that Chloe's sober. And that means there's absolutely no reason for Chloe to be gently sliding her hands down to her waist, pulling up her shirt just an inch so she can run the pad of one finger beneath the material covering her hip. No reason for her to move her mouth so close to Beca's ear that her lips almost touch the skin...
And there's definitely no reason for her to ask, 'How can I make this better for you?' in such a seductively low voice that seems to reach something deep and primal in Beca, making her squirm ineffectually and sweat break out on her back.
'Is this a dream?' she chokes out eventually – because this is too much to possibly be real.
Chloe just chuckles, as her lips attach themselves to Beca's pulse point and draw a laboured gasp from her. 'Which would you prefer?'
Military
'It looks ridiculous,' Beca groans, as soon as she sees it. 'Why did you have to get a pink one?'
'Well, I was going to get you one of the camouflage pattern ones, but it turns out those don't really exist.'
'They should!' says Beca indignantly, planting her hands on her tiny hips and drawing Chloe's gaze down there too, destroying her concentration. 'Surely there's a gap in the market for that, for gay military dudes or something. We could make a fortune. I might start making business plans now, in fact.' At this she starts to scramble off the bed, and Chloe comes to her senses in time to grab Beca' ankle as she tries to flee.
'Whoa there. I went to the trouble of buying and putting on this thing, the least you could do was let me try it out.'
'I never asked you to buy it,' Beca grumbles, as Chloe drags her back by the foot and straddles her hips. Beca glances down between them, grimaces, then looks very deliberately up at the ceiling.
'Don't play that game with me. You and I both know you wanted me to see that website.'
'You have no proof, Beale.'
'No proof, huh? So you're saying I should just take this off and put it away, huh?' Chloe pretends she's going to get off the bed, but Beca makes a completely adorable and involuntary little squawk of protest. 'Mmhm... That's what I thought.'
Beca flushes harder, turning her face away. 'Why do you have to make this so awkward for me?' she whines. 'This is embarrassing enough as it is.'
'Because it's really fun when your face goes all red like that.'
Lipstick
'Does my make up look okay to you?' Chloe tiltled er head this way and that so Beca, who had been standing behind her with her hands in her pockets, could see in the mirror.
Beca gave her a once over, seeing little things here and there that made her heart sink just a little. Even if she hadn't been watching for the last five minutes she would've seen that Chloe had spent rather a long time making up her face, if only because of the small pile of crumpled up tissues sitting on the vanity that suggested she'd already taken it off and redone it several times. And along with her make-up, it hadn't escaped Beca's notice that she was wearing her designated "date clothes"; Chloe's one and only little black dress that she had a propensity to wear because she knew it "made her tits look spectacular". Not that Beca disagreed, of course – but she couldn't help but rather disagree with the reasons why she was wearing it.
Beca's smile became a little more forced; however, no one other than Chloe would have seen, who was too busy fussing to do so.
'Yeah,' Beca said quietly. 'You look great. Stunning, even, y'know?'
Chloe stopped to smile at Beca in her reflection – that beaming, broad smile that made her eyelids lower and her entire face light up. 'Thanks, Beca. That's so sweet of you to say.' She leaned closer to the mirror, examining a non-existent blemish on her cheek. 'I just hope he feels the same way.'
'If he doesn't, he's an idiot.'
