Prompt: Werechloe prompt where Chloe ALWAYS wants to play tug of war with Beca, no matter what it is

Beca couldn't remember the last time she had actually asked Chloe to get her something from another room. It could have been a pair of headphones, a bottle of water, or maybe even a blanket. But she had learned quickly that it would have been less hassle to pull herself from the clutches of her man-made cocoon of covers and get it herself. Yes, she would brave the cold of the apartment and grab her own items.

Except, right now was one of those times that Beca couldn't. Not with the large and uncomfortable splint that was wrapped around her ankle. It wasn't broken, at least they hoped it wasn't. But the little fall she took down the bleachers at a baseball game hadn't helped her case. The tiny woman wasn't even in it for the pure sport of it all- no, she was conned with Chili dogs and alcohol. A lot of alcohol.

Now she fought her inner determination. She was getting restless, just sitting in the same bedroom watching a few Netflix specials about criminals never caught, and maybe even a rom-com that Chloe had been riding her about watching. But now she was bored, bored and dangerous, dark eyes flicking towards the closed door every once and awhile.

She had her laptop, but it had died a long time ago, her bones aching towards making a mix. No doubt, it would be something about being tied down. Something that bound two melodies together all about her pain and anguish. People would think it had a deeper meaning, but really, she was just holed up in her master bedroom. Wishing for something better to do.

"Hey, Chlo!" She called out, knowing her girlfriend could hear her, regardless of how loud she actually was. The redhead was probably drowning her out at this point, wishing she couldn't' hear the labored sighs that came from the bedroom. Beca almost instantly regretted it, but couldn't' help the small smile that came to her lips the second the door opened to reveal her girlfriend.

Her head was perked up with worry, eyes wide as she parted her lips. One hand hung from the frame, the other grasping the brass doorknob. She gave off a grateful smile, lifting her chin. "What's up Bec's? Want some company?"

"Always," She perked up, patting the empty spot on the bed next to her, momentarily forgetting about the charger that she so desperately needed. She had left Chloe alone for the last few hours, knowing she had a dissertation to write, but the sight of deep turquoise iris's melted her resolve.

"Mm," Chloe held her finger up, waving it almost erratically in the air. "No, that's not it, you want something."

"Yes, your company." Beca lifted her chin slightly. "Andmylaptopcharger."

She spoke her words so fast they almost blended together. The older of the two wasn't even sure she had taken a breath between syllables. But she was happy to do it. She had noticed ever so subtly that her girlfriend would stop asking her to get things- she had a habit of getting comfortable, noticing something was missing, then getting back up again instead of asking for help. Even if Chloe was significantly closer to the object in question.

"Really?" Chloe lifted a perfectly pointed brow. "Well, yeah, I mean-"

She shrugged her shoulders softly before taking a small step out of the room. She had remembered seeing the charger on the dining room table. The night before last the two had been co-working to keep up morale. But the baseball game was supposed to supply the same feeling, not a busted ankle. It made Chloe think- at this point, Beca didn't' really have much of a choice but to rely on her.

It made her almost prideful as she grasped the black cord and wandered back into the room, taking up the seat that Beca had to offer. The small brunette had her back propped up against the headboard, the computer to the side as the Netflix logo balanced untouched on the screen. Chloe had propped herself up on her elbow, legs stretching against the white comforter as she produced the item that Beca had asked for.

"Thank you," She said carefully, grasping one side of the charger as she pulled back slightly. Almost as quickly being met with resistance on Chloe's end, the girl letting out the beginning of a playful growl.

Oh.

"Oh, you want this?" She mumbled, exasperated with herself as the sudden realization hit. Of course, Beca had never asked to her retrieve anything. It was one of her quirks. The kind that made it near impossible to give up something once the two were in this position. A tug of war position.

"Chlo," Beca sounded out the woman's name carefully. "We've talked about this."

"Have we?" She got as a response "Here, take it. It won't happen again."

Beca let out a huff as she pulled once more, she didn't' even know why she tried. She was met with another grunt as a certain glint took over Chloe's stare. This was playful for her, the girl squinting her eyes softly. "Chloe!"

"Sorry!" Chloe flopped down on the mattress, still not letting go of the charger. "It likes me."

"It's a charger."

"That I've grown attached to."

"From the kitchen to here?"

This had happened before, it's exactly how Chloe got ahold of Beca's old blanket. The one thing she took from her freshmen dorm when she moved in that she really had an affinity for. She had grown an attachment to it, and evidently, so had Chloe. The girl would curl up in Beca's arms, all while wrapped up in the fabric. That made sense. This didn't'.

"We don't' even have the same computer," Beca pointed out with a slight laugh, finding this whole thing a bit comical. "Will you at least let me borrow it?"

"Mm," Chloe hummed softly, producing the charger once more, a place that Beca could actually reach it. She did so with caution, wrapping her fingers against the meld of plastic and metal. She pulled back slightly, not too fast. "I suppose."

"You are an enigma, Chloe Beale." Beca shook her head as she finally pulled the device into her grasp, biting back a laugh as she caught the stare of her girlfriend, who looked longingly at it like she wanted to have a life or death game for the item. She seemed to drop it, for now, knowing the younger of the two was at a major disadvantage with a bum leg and low resolve.

"You'll figure me out one day, Mitchell."