Prompt: prompt: were!chloe and beca are having dinner but beca notices the worried look chloe keeps giving when looking at her scar of the dog bite. beca reassures chloe theres nothing to worry about
Tw- The scar is on Beca's wrist, and I do use a bit of terminology, so please be careful.
There was something oddly silent about the dinner. It wasn't awkward, it was never awkward, but it was quiet. Chloe could recall days when her mother had dragged herself from her stupor long enough to schedule a meal with her grandparents. Wealthy people that she knew had an extensive oil painting hanging above their stone clad fireplace.
She had never seen it herself. Her fathers side of the family not wanting much to do with her after the demise of their son; a man she barely knew. But from the drunken stories she had heard, she didn't want to know. She didn't want to hear about broken glasses and the sour breath. But she did know that she hated these people. The people Chloe deemed to abandoned her with such vigor in a household such as this one.
The young woman wouldn't leave anyway, not with her younger sister still living in a cold clutch of reality. She went along to the fancy dinners in her best clothes with the least amount of wear and tear. If anything, she would push herself forward for a warm meal. She would sit up straight and revel in the quiet aside for a few questions about school were thrown her way. She was always polite, never speaking out of turn.
Quiet with Beca wasn't the same unstilled atmosphere that it was with her family. It was almost comforting at this point. It had been a few weeks- a few long and tactful weeks since they shared that conversation in the coffee shop in the middle of the night. The brunette was careful with her questions, still a bit cautious. But even when she hadn't gotten half the answers, she knew that Chloe would never lay a hand on her.
The two of them had a strained relationship, to begin with. Beca often chalking up her feelings for the ginger to nothing but pure lust. The two of them would get hot and heavy a couple of times a month when things got too stressful to handle. Chloe had never taken Beca out on a proper date- and now, she considered this something that she should do. Not that they clarified this as something that was first date material.
It was a 70's diner, one that had old green carpets and jukebox in the corner. The red and blue lights morphed together in an unforgivable violet against a tiled floor. There was a pie spinner set up along the bar- it only held one man, he looked like he could be out of a crime novel himself, shoving his metal edged fork into the flaky pie crust slowly. He was savoring each bite like he had never heard of the dessert before. Perhaps he hadn't.
This wasn't the same as her dinners as a child.
Beca shoved her fork into the last bit of mac & cheese on her plate. It emitted the gooey liquid substance the second the prongs made contact. It was artificial, not the home-made stuff- but Beca didn't seem to mind. She had the diet of a two-year-old, Chloe thought silently to herself. It was true. That's why the older woman had decided on a place that had chicken fingers instead of salmon.
"Chlo," Beca said, chewing the piece of noodle slowly- engulfed in thought. "You know you can stop staring at any point. Right?"
She gestured down to her exposed arm with a midnight stare. Beca hadn't said it with malice or ill-intent. In fact, she seemed a bit amused at how her counterpart took captivation in her scars. The dog had done its damage to her in many ways- but it was all everlasting with the thick wound that healed oddly. It discolored her skin in the mark of a canine's bite. Not at all ugly, just damning- it sent a stone chill through Chloe's spine.
"I wasn't" Chloe lied, bringing a spoonful of her soup to her lips. She didn't slurp it, instead, she shoveled it into her mouth not flinching under the sodium filled heat. She gulped it down, averting her stare from where Beca's shirt rode up a bit.
"Mm," She said, "Well you could be better at lying, you know that right?"
Chloe didn't say anything. She wasn't sure if she had a tell or not. The girl didn't spend much time perfecting her poker skills, though, after her past adventures, lying did seem to come easy. It was a trait she didn't regret losing. She didn't' have to be good at hiding the truth around Beca. Not anymore. The brunette could pick up on small quirks and there was no reason to hide something that was on her mind. Not with Beca.
"Does it hurt?" She asked instead.
"Not anymore." Beca instinctively ran the tips of her fingers over the scar. She sighed into it, almost like the chill of her touch was soothing. Chloe knew it was Beca's turn to lie. Maybe the actual wound didn't hurt anymore- but Beca still flinched each time she heard the sound of a dog barking. It wasn't voluntary, that was for sure. A flash of guilt would always move through her each time she did it, knowing that Chloe was watching carefully. Always watching carefully.
She let out a thick sigh. "Chloe, what's bothering you?"
"Are you afraid of me?" The girl didn't' hesitate much longer. There was nothing to lull upon. It was a simple and straightforward question. It still made her pale and push her back further into the plush booth.
Beca swallowed the sour taste in her mouth, letting out a long breath as she placed the metal utensil right next to the near-empty plate. There were a few fries, ketchup resting in an odd pattern right by the corner. She always claimed that Chloe ate her fries the "Wrong" way by drenching them in the condiment instead of dipping it.
"Do you think I have a reason to be?" Beca shot back with another careful question.
It was Chloe's turn to talk, her turn to face the internalized fear in the middle of the night at some hole-in-the-wall restaurant. "I would never hurt you, Beca."
It was a simple sentence, but it left enough of an impression. It seeped with emotion and assured Beca more than anything she has ever heard. Chloe didn't waver when it came to her words. She was confident. She was sure.
The brunette nodded carefully "When I was… When that dog attacked me, I felt like that was the end. And I thought that was the stupidest way to die. Getting mauled because I picked up an extra shift at a radio station. But then, you showed up."
Chloe listened with care, lifting her chin.
"I-I was even more confused because I wasn't scared, then. The second you looked into my eyes I didn't feel one ounce of fear, and it had nothing to do with the fact that you had just saved my ass, Chloe." Beca shifted in her seat. "It had everything to do with you being you. You make me feel safe, and not so alone, and that is enough to assure me that you would never do anything to harm me."
And she was right, she was more than right. Because Chloe sat there was such infatuation in what the brunette had said- such attention that she hadn't realized she didn't take a breath until her chest started burning. She dragged a cold heaping of air into her lungs, fighting back a small smile.
"Beca, I don't know what to…"
The brunette simply reached over the table as she plucked a fry off Chloe's plate. She bit down into it, giving Chloe a triumphant grin. "You don't have to say anything, Chlo. I know."