were!chloe prompt - beca has been avoiding chloe ever since the dog attack. when Chloe decides to confront beca, she finds beca researching more about wolves.

Library's always carried a certain and distinct scent, much like a hospital, it was near impossible not to identify the location if a velvet blindfold was stripping you of one of your senses. For Chloe Beale, it signified comfort.

The musty edge of leather wicked covers and adhesive was enough to quell a warm sensation against the edge of her stomach- she would always let her shoulders drop, and her guard pull back from her rough exterior for more than a few moments. It reminded her of childhood- of simpler days filled with naive curiosity and a gusto that she craved even today.

Barden's library was broad; rows upon rows of different literature was arranged like a maze. Each book labeled with a white strip of laminated paper. A system that the redhead could barely begin to explain organized the books. There were a few study rooms set up on the side for people willing to block out an hour or two. There were dark leather couches in different nooks, even a few computer stations set up for people wanting to read up without the highlighters and flashcards.

A burlap backpack was strung over the girl's shoulder as she adjusted it uncomfortably against her jacketed arm- textbooks weighing her down quite a bit as she started to silently cut through a few rows. She had a signature table in the far-left corner, allowing her to isolate herself and her thoughts from the rest of the world.

However, her movements halted the second she caught another scent. It was sweet, almost alluring. It was a huge jump from the aged atmosphere that surrounded her every time she entered the library. One of those leather couches was about waist level to her at this point, Chloe shifting her stare to the mass that was strung out against the cushions.

Beca was passed out, her little body hanging half off the couch as her right arm slung over her eyes, left clenching the spine of a hard-covered red book, the pages yellowed with wear as it rose up and down with her slow-moving chest. There were a few other books stacked on the small coffee table next to her, papers strung out over the surface area of the wood, a few different things highlighted.

Chloe drew in a careful breath, biting the inside of her lip as she watched the young girl sleep for a few more seconds. Beca had been pulling away from her ever since she got discharged from the hospital, a dog attack certainly doing that to a person. Even with the forced affection, and squinty way Beca stared at the gold specks in Chloe's eyes, she knew something was off.

Beca Mitchell was never caught dead in a library. Learning.

The older woman set her bag down behind the couch, the two of them in a little triangle of books and shelves. It was the perfect place to get a nap in before class or isolate yourself. In this case, it shielded the rest of the library from getting a good look at Chloe's expert snooping skills.

She squatted down by the side of the table, eyes scanning the stack of literature first. Some of the titles were in Latin, an effective translation dictionary propped open a few inches away, held open by a neon orange highlighter. There were a few she could read clearly;

Monsters of Givaudan, Lycanthropy: the occult truth, Way of the Wolf.

An icy knot was beginning to form in the pits of Chloe's stomach, the girl shifting to her knees as she silently shoved the books to the side, not having much interest in seeing what lie behind the covers. She was worried about this, about Beca and her sharp paranoia.

Chloe reached forward for the paper closest to her, fingers crinkling the text as she brought it into focus. Bullet points, a lot of bullet points with so much research. If she hadn't been so shell-shocked she would have been impressed by Beca's detective skills.

Her breath hitched as she turned the paper around, afraid that in her frantic silence she had done more damage than observation to the parchment. But it was already wrinkled, already ink changed and splayed. Black lettering clouded the back of the page- stressed, evidence scrawled out.

There were drawings of moon cycles, and written symbols that even Chloe didn't' recognize, knowing that her attempt to understand the ancient texts when she was little was almost entirely lost on her. But Beca, Beca seemed to comprehend completely. Chloe's name scribbled in the center of it all.

"You and Aubrey," Beca grumbled from the couch, Chloe not realizing exactly how labored her breathing had become. For someone with heightened senses, she had no idea that Beca was sitting up now, lazily at that.

The book was strung to the side, strands of hair falling into dull blue eyes. Eyes that were sad, and tired, and most importantly focused entirely on the redhead in front of her. She looked grey, sick. She hadn't been eating much since the attack, avoiding both girls all together.

Chloe was sat back on her heel at this point, one knee raised up to her chest while the paper hung in her hand, strung over that very knee. She didn't know what to say, how to approach the situation.

"You were so focused on convincing me that wolves couldn't be in Georgia." She croaked out, not breaking stark eye contact. "So engrossed in making sure that I thought I was losing my mind that you didn't' think for a second that that's the one thing I'm always sure of." She paced herself. "My sanity."

"Beca," Was all Chloe whispered out, careful and precise. She wanted to use every ounce of her Alpha nature, to make Beca back down and forget about the subject. But Beca was human, and in this instance, she held all the cards.

"I was so sure that I saw a wolf that day." She whispered a slight glaze to her eyes. She looked so broken, Chloe parting her lips. "But it was you, wasn't it?"

Chloe swallowed down the frigid nature that was building in her throat. The look of desperation in her eyes mirrored exactly what she thought all along. The brunette was nothing short of a tactical genius. She was so sure of herself, it didn't' matter what Chloe said at this point.

She carefully pulled herself up to the edge of the coffee table, mindful not to shift any of the items that were strewn across it. Beca was patient, Chloe leaning forward so she was eye level with the girl, elbows resting on her knees.

"I uh," She gulped, trying to keep her voice from cracking violently, eyes moving slowly up to Beca's. "I suppose it would have been easier to tell you the truth, then."

It wasn't a question, more of a statement. Beca's breath caught in her throat. Speculation, pure speculation that she knew was right deep down. But hearing the beginning of a confession from Chloe was enough to get her to shift uncomfortably.

"I wasn't born like this." Chloe's tone folded under the pressure, quivering. "It was something that happened to me when I was sixteen." She furrowed her brow, trying to drown out the memories. "No one knows about this except for Aubrey, Beca."

The brunette nodded her head slowly as if understanding. As if trying to comprehend something she had been obsessively reading about even when her mind began to go fuzzy and her stomach churned.

"Your parents-"

"Are a hell of a lot more oblivious than you." Chloe clenched her jaw, trying to keep the acid from raising in her stomach. "I understand if you can't trust me, anymore, Beca."

She got silence in return, the brunette running her fingers over the broken hem of her shirt, not lifting her gaze.

"But I need you to promise me you'll keep this between us." Chloe practically begged, "No one can know about this."

With a heavy sigh, the brunette sunk into the leather back of the sofa. She lifted her stare to meet those eyes, those ocean eyes with gold specks that she swore shined under the fluorescents.

"Chloe, how can you ask me that?"