There’s a soft ticking noise from the clock on the mantelpiece. Beca eases the front door closed and lets out an exhale, a tired smile sweeping across her face.
It’s funny, she thinks, the way this place immediately makes her relax. Immediately reminds her how stressful her job is. Of how relentless being in the public eye is. Of how safe this tiny cottage makes her feel.
She allows her travel luggage to slip from her shoulder, landing at her feet with a thud. She lets out a light chuckle when she sees a large tabby cat stretch from its favourite position on the back of the couch, bathing in a pool of its own fur covering the rainbow blanket which is specifically there to protect the fabric of the couch itself.
‘Don’t look at me like that, Gismo,’ she mumbles quietly when the cat gives her a side-eye for disturbing him, ‘I’ve only been gone seven weeks.’
She slips her sneakers from her feet, and curls her toes into the long shag pile rug as she does every time she returns home from tour. Her eyes gloss over her trinkets and belongings that line the windowsill and bookshelves and mantelpiece above the fireplace. Trinkets that are merged with her wife’s, and some that they’ve chosen together over the years.
Beca bites her lip when she moves a little further into the lounge, keeping her ears peeled for movement, but she hears nothing more than the clock that’s set to London time. The clock that’s set to whatever time zone she’s performing in so her wife knows when to call her or expect a call in return.
‘Oh you’ve forgiven me then?’ she asks, her grin broadening as Gismo wraps himself around her legs. She picks him up and allows him to bop her cheek with the top of his head over and over, his thick-set purr rumbling from deep within his body, and she chuckles, ‘You’ve been looking after Mommy like you promised, right?’
She’s never been a cat person, but after a devastatingly long world tour ten years ago, Beca hadn’t denied her wife when she’d requested they adopt the stray cat with one eye that seemed to have an unhealthy interest in the large composter they’d erected at the end of their long cottage garden. Gismo is as much part of the furniture as the furniture itself and provides Beca with the peace of mind that whenever she’s away her wife has company at home. Still, she enjoys his little head-boops, even if she doesn’t admit it out loud.
At last she hears the heavy clunk of the back door, and the sound of a heavy sigh. The wicker picnic basket lands on the little kitchen table with a thud, clearly filled with fruit and vegetables from their garden.
Beca feels her excitement increase, imagining exactly how her wife will look the moment she realises she’s home from her European tour three days earlier than planned.
‘Mo-Mo?’ she hears her wife’s sweet voice sing out from the kitchen, ‘Mommy got you apple from the garden!’
Beca smirks. She’s never known a cat like theirs - one that adores the apples they pick from their apple trees at the bottom of their garden. Beca’s tried to advise they keep the apple feeding to a minimum but it’s no surprise to her that her wife goes rogue while she’s away. So she allows their cat to scramble out of her arms and race through to the kitchen.
She slowly follows, her hands stuffed into her back pockets. She pauses in the doorway, leaning her arm on the frame, and takes a deep breath.
This is what they’ve always dreamt of. A little cottage, away from the prying eyes of the general public, with a beautiful long garden full of flowers and vegetable patches and fruit bushes and trees. It’s taken seven long years, but they finally have their home exactly the way they want it.
Beca sees her wife leaning over a chopping board, slicing a freshly picked apple up into chunks. Her beautiful long red hair is tied up in a loose knot, strands falling down her cheeks, and Beca notices a few beads of sweat on her wife’s forehead. As stunning as she was the first day she met her; the first day she spoke to her; the first day she duetted with her; the first day she moved in with her; the first time they kissed; the first time they had sex; the first time they swapped ‘I love yous’; the day they eloped; the first day they looked around this cottage; the first day they moved into it…
Chloe places the apple down into a little cat bowl then lets out a sharp gasp as her eyes land on the figure of her wife.
‘Wha—?’ she bursts, a broad dazzling smile sweeping across her face.
‘Surprise, babe.’
Chloe lets out a squeal of delight and darts over to Beca, pulling her into a piercing kiss, hands cradling her cheeks. Beca sweeps her arms around her wife’s waist that Chloe’s been so self conscious of in recent years. (‘You’re going to leave me for a younger skinnier girl one day’ she whined, staring at her naked self in the mirror, her hands sweeping her stomach. ‘Not a chance’, Beca replied, curling her arms around Chloe from behind and placing a kiss on the nape of her neck, ‘You’re the most beautiful woman in the world’.)
‘You’re home early!’ Chloe says, tears of joy beginning to roll down her cheeks.
‘I’m home early,’ Beca replies.
They both chuckle and kiss again and again, giddy within one another’s presence, together at last.
Just as Beca is about to broach the subject of dinner out to celebrate, Chloe shakes in excitement, almost fit to burst. It takes her by surprise. Chloe’s usually thrilled to be reunited with her but not quite like this. Then suddenly the reason becomes clear.
‘I’m pregnant!’
Beca’s jaw drops, her eyes watering and nose tingling as Chloe falls into a rapid description of how their sixth round of IVF has finally finally worked and how she’d only taken a pregnancy test this morning, then had proceeded to take several more tests and had planned on telling Beca once she’d returned home from her little European tour and now she had, Chloe could.
All the while, Beca finds her hands naturally gravitating to Chloe’s soft stomach, sweeping her palms across the skin. The fear and anxiety surrounding the pregnancy will come in due course, but for now, Beca and Chloe Mitchell relish this little moment of perfect happiness.
They chuckle between salty kisses as tears roll down their cheeks, and Gismo curls his way around their legs, purring in contentment.
Illustrations by me but the true winner are these incredible words by the fantastic ‘flabbergasties’ - a truly brilliant poem!!
BeChloe and the Special Lady Jam
Merry Christmas @bri-the-nautilus 🤩 I’m your secret Santa for this year’s Pitchmas Gift Exchange! I hope this is ok 🤞
Project Bloe WhatsApp
FAT AMY: Merry Christmas aca-bitches!
EMILY: Omg
STACIE: Merry Christmas sexy ladies 😘
EMILY: (Merry Christmas everyone btw 💕)
CR: Merry Christmas!
CR: Fat Amy this better be a Beca and Chloe update 👀
JESSICA: Yes how did their date-not-a-date date go??
JESSICA: (Merry Christmas 🥰)
Ashley: Merry Christmas 🤩
JESSICA: Babe, I’m sat next to you 🥰
ASHLEY: It was meant for the others 😆
JESSICA: 😘
FLO: Happy Christmas 🌸
FAT AMY: Bloe’s date-not-a-date date was definitely 100% a date 😂
EMILY: I’m so confused
EMILY: So was it a date or not?
STACIE: Emily catch up!!!
STACIE: Beca asked Chloe if she wanted to go for a drink after work on Christmas Eve
STACIE: Chloe freaked out because she didn’t know if Beca meant in a romantic way
CR: Accidentally burnt herself with her flat-iron she was so busy worrying
STACIE: 👆
FLO: One time I burnt myself on lava…but yes that kind of burn is horrible too.
ASHLEY: Beca got home and helped with the burn
STACIE: Which was conveniently on her collarbone 😏
FAT AMY: The tension here was as WILD as bush kangaroos in heat!!
CR: Fat Amy was hiding on her bed behind the clothes rail divider reporting everything
FAT AMY:
LILLY: They’re in bed together now
FAT AMY: So they didn’t establish if the drink that night would be a romantic drink or a drink as friends
CR: Which drove Chloe crazy
FAT AMY: yep
JESSICA: And last we heard, they’d gone out on the date-not-a-date…
EMILY: This’ll teach me to have my WhatsApp notifications switched on 😭
FAT AMY: ANYWAY I have an update!!!!!
Fat Amy stood at the foot of the foldout bed in the studio apartment in Brooklyn, Santa hat on her head, still dressed in the tight fitting red sequin dress she’d worn the night before. As expected, she’d found a hookup quickly - at the first bar she’d entered - and was only now returning home. The clock read 5am.
CR: 👀
EMILY:
STACIE: 🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞
CR: Stacie manifesting something there 😂
STACIE: You know exactly what I’m manifesting 😜
Fat Amy grinned and looked down at the bed. She’d not told her roommates she’d be back tonight. She hadn’t not told them either, so she’d covered all bases if they ended up getting mad at her. Which they shouldn’t do, because it wasn’t her fault they’d gone out drinking last night and were now curled up naked together with the thick winter blanket covering up to their chests, arms very clearly around each other.
FAT AMY: Bloe banged last night!!!!!
CR: YAAAAAAAAS 🥳
STACIE: Details immediately!!
STACIE: What do you see right now??
EMILY: 🥹 they’re finally together!
ASHLEY: Jess, you owe me $5
LILLY: Chloe kissed Beca first
JESS: @Ash $5 already under your pillow 😁
FLO: 😍 do you think they’re in love?
LILLY: but Beca was the one who initiated making out on the way home
STACIE: Fat Amy!!! WHERE’S THE DETAILS??
FAT AMY: I’ve just got home!
FAT AMY: They’re naked in bed together!
CR: So much for Beca not having any feelings for Chloe, Aubrey 😂
ASHLEY: Oh yeah! Where IS our illustrious old aca-leader?
Aubrey paced quickly down the corridor, brought out her card key, and slammed into her hotel room. Her chest heaved as she pushed the door closed behind her and leant her back against it, her eyes squeezing closed. Flashes of last night crossed her mind, and a coy smile spread across her face while her fingertips smoothed delicately across her skin. They tracked over the deep love-bites on either side of her neck and she thought about the two women who had laid naked with her overnight.
It’d been a total accident bumping into Beca and Chloe last night, but a happy one. They’d all let their hair down, consumed way too many cocktails, and when she’d watched Chloe suddenly pull Beca into a deep kiss she’d felt something stir within her.
Project Bloe WhatsApp
LILLY: Aubrey was with them
FAT AMY: No idea
ASHLEY: Yeah it’s not like her to not have an opinion 😂
Aubrey held her phone to her chest, thinking about the group chat that’d been specifically created to get Beca and Chloe together. She’d always been adamant that neither Beca or Chloe would want to pursue a romantic relationship together, but perhaps after last night she was wrong. Perhaps after last night, they’d consider letting her join them more often…
I heard Christmas is around the corner and wanted to know what you wanted for pitchmas this year
- your secret Santa ❄️
Ooh well hello there, Santa!
I’m a Bechloe girl at heart but also super in love with Staubrey too 🥹 so I’m more than happy with anything involving either of those two ships pretty please 🤞
“This is way out of my comfort zone.” Beca admitted, her eyes on the folder held out to her.
“Says the girl with like a million tattoos.”
Beca rolled her eyes, “Not a million,” then took the folder, reluctantly opening it out on a page that happened to be various love hearts. “besides these tattoos were ones I’d picked for myself, not for someone else!”
Chloe rocked back and forth with a playful smile on her face, twisting her expression into one like a puppy-dog pleading, “I need your help” she said, then she pouted. Beca rolled her eyes again and huffed.
“Fine.” She pointed at a little heart design on the page, perfect for her best friend’s ankle, “This one would look really cute on you.”
Chloe’s face lit up, and as she launched from the stool to plant a firm kiss on Beca’s cheek, Beca blushed. God, having a crush on her best friend of three years was the worst. But then it made moments like these all the more spectacular.
Chloe shifted from foot to foot, glancing at her watch at forty second intervals. The delivery was late, which was usual for the Saturday delivery - the Saturday driver always blamed the city traffic of Atlanta - but the Tuesday delivery was never late. Chloe, deputy manager of Brewney Toons (a coffee shop that prided itself on quality coffee and quality music), made sure that when she did the rota’s that she always worked the Tuesday shift.
She remained stood just outside the back door of the building, and her heart began racing when her ears caught the familiar sound of the delivery truck, with very specific beats thudding from the sound system within the vehicle. Sure enough, the truck spluttered to a halt, and as light as a feather the delivery driver leapt out from the seat down onto the ground before her.
“Sorry I’m late.” the driver said, nipping over to open the back of the vehicle, “There was something wrong under the bonnet.”
Chloe tried to play it cool, but she couldn’t help staring at the driver’s physique. Petite yet strong, fascinating tattoo sleeves, and for the first time since their initial meeting three months ago the driver was covered in dried oil that was plastered to her hands and face.
“No worries.” Chloe managed to choke out, as new woman hopped up into the back of the truck. “Everything ok now?”
“Yeah I just had to jimmy a few bits around. No bother.” the woman began unloading the stock, transferring it across to the back door with ease. As she passed Chloe, there was a distinct smell of perfume. Chloe always loved it, and made an effort to wear extra perfume herself.
They didn’t know each other so well that they could class themselves as friends, but they were getting to know each other more and more each week. It excited Chloe no end. What she didn’t know was that it excited the other woman too.
“Oh, I uh, I watched that documentary you recommended I watch. About the cheerleading?” Chloe said, and her heart lifted at the sight of the woman’s smile, clearly recognising the conversation from last week.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah it was really good!” Chloe continued, rocking back and forth while the stock was piled up. This woman - Beca - was the first woman Chloe had ever had a crush on. It was tough to have to endure six days between seeing her, and even tougher that their interaction only lasted twelve minutes, but it was worth it.
“Did you watch it with your boyfriend?” Beca asked, heaving the final tray of cocoa onto a pile.
“Oh.” Chloe said, a little surprised by the implication. Beca clearly assumed she was straight. “No I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Your girlfriend then.” Beca replied, reaching into the door of the truck to pull out some paperwork.
“No girlfriend either.” Chloe said, finding it difficult not to stare at the drivers cute butt while Beca made her way back down to her.
“Would you like a girlfriend?” Beca asked, as casual as though she was asking for the time. She held out the paperwork for Chloe to sign and after a moments hesitation, Chloe took it. Her stomach twisted in glee as Beca grinned at her then gave her a wink.
“I finish at 5.” She replied, and Beca’s whole face appeared to light up.
The key slid into the lock with a perfect clack, twisting smoothly in place until she heard a click and the metal give way slightly. Gone were the days of having to shunt the door open with her hip at a particular angle to get into the apartment. Now Beca stepped inside freely, releasing a breath of air she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.
Home. She was finally home.
All the nostalgia from years gone by, prior to her fame and mass-success, came flooding to the forefront of her mind. A tired smile swept across her face. The September light that trickled through from the main window of the studio apartment was exactly how it had always been at this time of day in years gone by - a soft orange glow from the sunset touching upon the furniture and objects on and around said furniture.
Beca gently pushed the door closed behind her, flinching at the loud bang it made at the end of its move. She was used to doors closing far softer and more silent than that. Perhaps she needed to invest in a new one? Though this door was only a couple of years old, so some would say a new one so soon would be wasteful…
Her eyes moved slowly from one aspect of the apartment to another, drinking in all the details she’d missed so desperately while she’d been away:
A mass of coats to address every type of weather Brooklyn had to offer across the year, all hung haphazardly on a tall free-standing coat stand, reminding her of a board-game (Buckaroo) that she’d once played with her friends back in college. Just one more jacket and she was sure it’d topple.
An expensive wooden shoe rack that looked fit to burst with heels, flats, sandals, boots, sneakers. All of which belonged to one person, and that person wasn’t her.
A collection of hair pins and earrings and hair elastics and a rogue hairbrush. All gathered in a chaotic pile, with random strands of long red hair, on the small table by the door, clearly having been discarded there each evening after a long busy day, for goodness knows how many days. Possibly weeks.
Photo montages adorned the walls nearest to her. Even with the emergence of modern phones, there appeared to be something so comforting about looking at physical photos that had been thought about and chosen to be specifically printed at The Brooklyn Snap Store a couple of blocks away. Photos from almost a decade ago. Photos from a few years ago. Photos from recent months. Beca had had enough exposure to her own image that she no longer felt an ‘ick’ when seeing herself on a wall. Especially when, in each photo, she had her arms draped affectionately around the waist or shoulders of a very familiar person. Her person.
With a soft smile spreading across her face, Beca slowly stepped further into the room, noting the familiar creak of the floorboards, each with their own particular sound. Her eyes drifted down and she let out a light chuckle and a gentle tut when she saw a damp towel pooled in a heap at her feet. Picking it up and opening it out, she caught a waft of the vanilla and jasmine shower gel she loved, the smell of which made her heart skip a beat. There was something so comforting about that smell she’d known for almost a decade.
She flopped the opened towel over the back of one of the dining chairs to her left, her smile remaining as she noticed a half eaten toasted bagel abandoned on a small plate on the small dining table. Collecting it, she moved slowly over to the kitchen sink, tipping the stale food into the trash. Her hand automatically shot out towards a handle and she tugged the small dishwasher open, poised to find a temporary location for the dirty plate.
“Chloeee.” she mumbled with a chuckle, as she was met by a dishwasher filled with cool clean dry ceramics, glass and cutlery. Chloe had never been one to empty a dishwasher unless absolutely necessary. Not even back in college. So Beca placed the dirty plate on the surface beside the sink, suddenly aware that it wasn’t the only piece of dinnerware that was awaiting a turn in the dishwasher.
Seven…no eight coffee cups, a precariously stacked pile of cereal bowls, too many spoons of varying size to count, three kitchen knives, two chopping boards, three plates, and four casserole dishes. All waiting for the dishwasher to be emptied.
Many would be mistaken for thinking that this apartment needed a bigger dishwasher. But Beca knew it wouldn’t matter if there were ten dishwashers in this tiny apartment, Chloe would still put off emptying them. And it was this unintentionally rebellious quality that Beca loved about her. Well, one of the many qualities Beca loved about her.
For the next three and a half minutes Beca happily busied herself, emptying the dishwasher and finding great relief when she quickly discovered that none of the contents in the cupboards had been switched around since she’d last been home. So coffee cups went into the cup cupboard, along with a wine glass, and several colourful plastic cups; plates went into the plate cupboard, closely followed by cereal bowls; spoons, more spoons, a few forks, and a couple of dinner knives went into the cutlery draw; the large silver mixing bowl was returned to the kitchen aid in the corner of the worktop, then Beca realised the kitchen aid’s attachments needed to be locked into the machine before placing the bowl, so she did just that; and finally a soap dish…which Chloe had always maintained needed fortnightly dishwashing, was returned to the bath edge, beside the taps, where it’d always lived between wash cycles.
Then, as methodical as she had been when emptying the dishwasher, she set about filling it with the dirty items. It wasn’t full enough to justify switching it on, so Beca closed the door, and let out a sigh of content. There was something so satisfying about doing housework, especially as she no longer had a need to do it when she was away from home. Which was for a lot of the year, unfortunately.
Reaching for a nearby cupboard, Beca’s eyes glossed over the contents, a soft smile growing on her face when she honed in on an A5 sized black tin. She pulled it out, her fingertips lightly gripping the metal, just as they had done for as long as she’d owned it. The tin was dented in many places, the lid barely fitting correctly on top of it, and on that lid there were heaps of doodles and patterns that had been carved into the metal with a mathematical compass, exposing the silver beneath the black coating. Despite its age and its obvious frailty, she spared it no second thought as she lobbed it down onto the kitchen work-surface beneath the cupboard, turning her attention to another cupboard to search for her favourite coffee cup.
Her coffee cup, as it turned out, was towards the back of the cup cupboard, which was a sign of how long it had been since she’d been home. Thirty three days to be precise. Which, when broken down into weeks, was technically only just under five weeks, and not the longest time she’d been away. But any time away from home was excruciating for Beca right now. Especially with an impending World Tour on the cards. It was anybody’s guess how long she’d be away for that.
Lifting the lid of the tin, a familiar coffee musk emanated from within, and she stared down at a collection of very expensive coffee pods. Her most favourite coffee. The coffee she saved to drink here. Nowhere else felt enough like home to warrant drinking it there. No, it had to be here. Another home comfort.
Then she had to familiarise herself with the Nespresso machine. People usually made her coffee or sent out for coffee. She rarely had the luxury of being able to make her own.
Luxury. Funny, most people would class luxury as fast cars, supermodel girlfriends, super yachts, fine dining, not having to worry about money… Beca classed luxury as a simple pleasure: making her own coffee, unloading the dishwasher, being able to exist in a space without her record label demanding to talk to her every other minute of the day.
As she slotted the coffee pod into the machine, she felt a momentary sense of unease. There was no escaping that fact that she’d be in trouble with the label tomorrow. Walking out on a meeting with execs was probably not a good move on her part. But, she internally argued, it was pretty rock n roll, right?
She turned on the spot and leant back against the work surface, folding her arms comfortably. Her ears honed in on the coffee being poured into her favourite cup. Then, as she remained in one place, she began to hear more. The honks and beeps of the Brooklyn traffic outside; the clang of water pipes as neighbours above and below the apartment showered after a long working day; the light hum of the Smeg fridge, still stood in all its glory - Beca’s first ever appliance purchase after signing her recording contract three years ago; out in the hallway, a meow coming from Twinkle (one of Ms Oakridge’s cats) asking its owner to be let inside.
Beca took hold of her coffee cup, and slowly made her way over to her side of the bed. She placed the cup down carefully on her favourite coaster - the one Amy had made for her with a photo of her performance character ‘Fat Amy Winehouse’ on. “To keep you grounded when fame gets to your head” Amy had said with every ounce of seriousness that her expression exuded. It definitely kept Beca feeling grounded, that was for sure.
She shuffled back round to sit at the foot of the bed, to drink in the sight of her perfect little home. It was the last place anyone would expect a multimillion dollar recording artist to live. Which was what made it all the more perfect.
It was little more than eighteen months ago when she’d finally gotten around to buying the place. Turns out it was a bit of a steal compared to other apartments in the area, but Beca didn’t care. With the help of Chloe she’d managed to upgrade it all: new waterworks, a new kitchen, new bath (“I love having a bath too much Beca!” Chloe had exclaimed. Beca hadn’t argued); a proper in-built floor to ceiling screen to separate the bath and toilet area from the rest of the studio apartment; the old tatty couch that folded out into a bed had been replaced by an expensive modern couch (which also happened to fold out into a bed for any visiting guests) - Beca had even warmed up to its ‘burnt orange’ colour that Chloe had picked out. But the best upgrade had to be the windows. It may have cost Beca way more money than most would deem necessary spending on a run-down studio apartment in the middle of Brooklyn, but it had been a game-changer, keeping the apartment cool(ish) in summer, and loads warmer in winter.
Beca’s attention drifted down to the large colourful rug that had been a surprisingly impulsive buy on Chloe’s behalf, the woman having stalked the departments of Macy’s Black Friday sale last year. She remembered the looks on the delivery guys faces when they’d reached the apartment door, entirely out of breath with the rolled up rug over their shoulders, grunting about the building’s broken down elevator. Beca had tipped them handsomely and Chloe had practically burst into tears she was so thrilled with how well the large rug fitted their apartment.
Her Mom, as it turned out, actually really liked the rug. Which had surprised Beca because Lynn had never really been a lover of any colours beyond black, dark grey, navy, and at a push a very dark green. Chloe’d said she had probably just been polite when reacting to the sight of the new feature in the apartment that looked as though it was something taken from the costume department of Joseph and his Technicolor Dream Coat, but Beca knew her Mom. She knew her facial expressions and mannerisms and what they all meant. Her Mom didn’t just like the rug. Her Mom liked Chloe too.
Turned out Beca had been right and Chloe had been wrong, Lynn hadn’t reacted that way just to be polite. Lynn genuinely liked her only daughter’s girlfriend, which had been a massive relief to both Beca and Chloe respectively. The woman didn’t visit Brooklyn much, but when she did she often kept Chloe company while Beca busied herself with work, joining her for shopping trips in Manhattan and visits to the local farmers market for fresh produce.
Luckily for Beca, money was now no bother. And as such it was no bother for Chloe either. Beca had assured Chloe a long time ago that her earnings were now totally at Chloe’s disposal, which to most would seem a risky proposition, but Beca trusted Chloe implicitly. Both with her finances and with her life.
Beca no longer needed to buy things - things just turned up for free from advertisers or businesses or fans or generous colleagues, all through the label. Credit to Chloe, the woman hadn’t gone crazy with Beca’s money and had actually been living a relatively modest life while her millionaire girlfriend paid her vet school fees and living costs, then financed her lifestyle.
Her eyes drew over to a framed photo on the windowsill behind the couch. A photo of her proudest college achievement. A photo from the night she and the rest of her friends, together, won the World Championships of Acapella. 2015, the year they were World Champions.
The frame that photo was in was the very frame used to store that particular memory back in her final few weeks of college. It had been given to her by Chloe as a ‘goodbye’ gift, that the woman had bought and given to each of the girls in their collegiate acapella group, just before they left college for good.
Beca smirked at the way the light from the window touched upon the slight dent in the top left of the frame. Chloe had been devastated when Fat Amy had accidentally held the moving box wrong, thus having the bottom of the box falling open, and the contents within spilling down the staircase of the apartment block they were just moving into that day. Beca had been impressed that the only casualty from that box had been the photo frame, and even then it’d only sustained a small dent. Chloe eventually got over it.
Approaching footsteps could be heard in the corridor outside and Beca found herself sitting upright a little more. She knew those footsteps, the sound of which had her heart rate increasing in excitement. She was home a day earlier than planned. Chloe was going to be over the moon.
The lock mechanism sounded and Beca silently sucked in a breath to hold as she watched her girlfriend step happily into the apartment. She watched in fascination as Chloe kept her eyes squeezed closed, swaying her hips to the beat of a song she was singing along to while AirPods sat snugly in her ears. Closing the door carefully behind her, locking the door up, throwing her handbag and light jacket towards the arm of the couch, then jigging over to the fridge were all movements that came so freely to Chloe that it was obvious this was what she did every single day she got home from Vet School.
Beca recognised the lyrics her girlfriend sang. How could she not? She’d sung them far too frequently since she’d released the song a few weeks ago.
Chloe stopped suddenly, her brow lightly furrowing as her gaze set upon the appearance of the sink area of the little kitchen. More specifically the cleared sink area. A cleared sink meant only one thing. And it was in that moment, Chloe clearly noted the scent of Beca’s favourite coffee that was only present when the woman was finally home.
A yelp of delight, paired with a beaming smile, was produced by Chloe, and Beca couldn’t help the loud chuckle that fell from her mouth as her girlfriend immediately launched her way over to her, knocking her back onto the bed with her body weight.
“You’re home early!!!” Chloe squealed in glee, her lips immediately finding their way to Beca’s, pressing firmly against the flesh over and over again while they both giggled into one another’s mouths.
“How?” kiss “Why?” kiss.
Beca, with her arms already wrapped comfortably around Chloe’s waist, allowed her face to be peppered with mini kisses. Previous to the time they’d started dating this form of affection towards her would’ve been a big no-no for Beca. Kisses kept to a minimum unless specifically getting intimate. Definitely no ‘pickle-kisses’ as Chloe called them (“Why ‘pickle’?” Beca had asked with an amused smirk. “Because ‘pickle’ is such a cute word to say!” Chloe had attempted to justify with a nonchalant shrug, her pupils blown with desire.) But after a couple of years of dating Beca was a changed woman when it came to affection - both receiving and giving - and would take all the pickle-kisses Chloe had to offer, especially now after thirty three days apart.
“I just couldn’t wait any longer.” Beca replied with a chuckle, her eyes reluctantly closed as her girlfriend continued the onslaught of pickle-kisses now aimed at her neck. “I had to get home. I had to see you.”
Suddenly Chloe let out a huge gasp, launching herself off the bed to stand up, entirely embarrassed. Beca, confused, propped herself up with her arms.
“Wha-?”
“Oh God Beca, I’m a mess!” Chloe motioned to her hair, then to her body. Beca hadn’t a clue what her girlfriend meant. Her often unruly red hair was tied up into a loose top-knot, and her clothes looked as though they’d been barely worn (which Beca knew they wouldn’t have been because she knew Chloe was part-way through her latest college placement, so would’ve worn her farming gear).
“You’re not a mess!” Beca protested, a gentle smile of affection on her face as her girlfriend brought her hands to her nose to check they didn’t smell of cow faeces.
“You’re probably blinded by love, or-or probably can’t smell properly because of your favourite coffee-”
“So what if I’m blinded by love, Chloe?” Beca interjected kindly, knowing all too well the signals of her girlfriend beginning to panic: her arms would flail, her body would stiffen, her brow would knit, tears would glisten in her eyes, her words would sound a little higher pitched, and for the most part she looked something similar to a deer trapped in headlights.
Chloe blew air from her mouth, directing it up with her bottom lip to create enough of a draft to allow the rogue wisps of hair near her forehead to drift gently back in place. Her hands were resting on her hips, then flopped down to her sides.
“I’m sorry,” she whined, and Beca rose to her feet, “I just had visions of getting myself looking really pretty for you and-”
“But you’re already pretty!” Beca insisted, reaching for Chloe’s hands.
“And I was going to tidy the apartment up properly, and-and make your favourite meal, and get your favourite beer in and-”
“Chloe!” Beca looked earnestly at her girlfriend, and Chloe appeared to take a deep breath in an attempt to settle her anxiety.
“You’re beautiful. And I love you. And I’ve missed you so damn much that I skipped out of a meeting today with the label so I could get to you sooner.”
Chloe’s face contorted into a look of horror at the latter confession, knowing full well how much trouble Beca got in any time she walked out of a meeting. But Beca battled on, trying to convince her girlfriend to calm down.
“And do you seriously think I don’t know you well enough by now to know that you’d planned on doing all those sweet things for me before I got home?”
It was true - Chloe always looked tip-top whenever Beca first got home after time away with work. She always made the apartment look spotless, and cooked spaghetti bolognese from scratch because it was Beca’s absolute favourite. And she always, always made sure Beca’s favourite beers were chilling in the fridge.
“So don’t freak out, babe.” Beca noted the way Chloe’s shoulders relaxed, and it helped her own stress seep away while she gently squeezed her hands.
“You’re sure I don’t smell of cows?” Chloe mumbled, and Beca couldn’t help the chuckle that fell from her mouth.
“Definitely not.”
She didn’t lie to Chloe. Well…sometimes she did, but only in instances like this, where Chloe was feeling insecure and needed a little confidence boost. So yes, Chloe did smell a tiny bit like livestock, but Beca didn’t care. She’d missed her girlfriend too much.
Beca didn’t normally love a mix that she’d made. And she certainly didn’t like any as quickly as she liked the mix she was making right now. It was only two hours since she’d sat down and already she was certain, she was going to love the final product. Which meant any prospective recording company looking for a ‘Junior Music Producer extraordinaire’ would love it too. And that was exactly what Beca was aiming for. Anything to finally quit BFD Records and move to a better company.
She let out a yawn, easing her head from left to right, enjoying the clicking her neck made that relieved the stress on her joints. She was starting to feel her age. How did she know that? Because it was only 9pm and she was already contemplating going to bed.
Gone were the days when she would stay up mixing until 1am, go to bed, then wake at noon. The good old days back in college when really, in the grand scheme of things, she had no responsibilities other than leading The Bellas and getting herself to as many of her classes as possible on time. The simple life.
Now, however, every weekday felt like walking through treacle. The record company she worked for sang her praises, but never gave her a pay rise or promotion to reflect the brilliant feedback. Which meant most of her money went on rent and bills. Not exactly the dream life Beca had expected to have by the time she was twenty seven, but who was she to argue?
Pulling her Beats from her ears to hang around her neck, then pushing her screen-glasses from the bridge of her nose up onto the top of her head, Beca let out another yawn and sat back in her chair. The creak it made was a sound she was more than familiar with, having lived in this studio apartment for more than three years now. It was sometimes a comforting creak - that of her favourite chair. But sometimes it was an irritating creak - a reminder that the chair, much like the rest of the furniture in this crap hole, were beyond their hypothetical use by date. And Beca would just get angry with it, then angry with the world, then angry with her job and the company she worked for. Anger that would turn into tears of despair, because life seemed so unfair.
Then moments after that despair she’d look to the inside of her wrist, at a fairly recent tattoo of a tiny raincloud, and her despair would subside. Because living here in these conditions would be unbearable if it wasn’t for the person she lived here with. The very person who had drawn that raincloud design for Beca to have tattooed. Chloe.
Beca found herself smoothing her thumb over the tattoo thoughtfully, staring over at the pull out bed they’d had to share since moving here all those years ago. Chloe was out this evening on a date. A third date no less. With a guy she’d managed to meet on a dating app a few weeks ago.
Chloe had gone on this date with one intention and one intention only - to get a kiss. The first kiss with this guy who, much to Chloe’s frustration, hadn’t picked up on any of her flirting cues during their previous dates apparently.
Slipping her Beats from around her neck, Beca decided now would be a good time to make a cup of hot cocoa before resigning herself to bed. It was no use waiting up for her best friend - Chloe was often out on a date until 10pm, sometimes even later than that, and Beca didn’t really want to have to sit around and hear how well this kiss had finally been and how it had been well worth the wait.
It wasn’t like she was jealous. She wasn’t. Totally wasn’t. Sure, she and Jesse had broken up a year ago. Sure, she hadn’t dated anyone since then. Sure, she’d started developing feelings for Chloe recently. But that didn’t mean she was jealous that someone out there might be kissing Chloe right this very sec—
—“What the hell is wrong with me?”
Beca almost fell out of her seat as the apartment door suddenly opened and Chloe burst into the room with a huff. A huff that Beca recognised. Clearly Chloe’s date hadn’t gone to plan.
“Um…” Beca began, knowing full well the question had been rhetorical. She watched as the redhead slammed the door closed behind her and proceeded to tug her hat, scarf and gloves off.
“I mean I couldn’t have given him any more opportunities.” Chloe grumbled, lobbing her winter accessories onto the chair by the door, before reaching her fingers for the buttons of her ‘winter date coat’.
“We were even stood under mistletoe at one point!”
Beca scrunched her face up, “Mistletoe? But it’s February!”
“I know! Valentines Day to be exact!” Chloe lobbed her coat angrily in the direction of the chair, missing it completely, “Even fate was on our side, and he still didn’t kiss me!”
The redhead stormed over to the fridge, tugging it open to stare at its contents. Beca watched her cautiously. Interacting with Chloe when she was in this sort of mood was always risky. It was hard to know if it was better to remain quiet and let her say everything, to meet her in the middle and be equally angry for her, or to grab her by the shoulders and tell her to snap out of it. All three interactions Beca had tried in the past. She was yet to be successful.
“Why are you so desperate for him to kiss you?” Beca found herself asking and she took a sharp intake of breath through her teeth. That was a really risky question, and she awaited the inevitable snap-back. But it didn’t come.
Instead Chloe’s shoulders dropped while she turned from the fridge, a bottle of water in her hand, “Because I’ve not been kissed in so long and I love being kissed, you know?”
Beca didn’t know. She didn’t know that feeling. And she hadn’t ever connected Chloe with wanting that either. Which was why she now sat with her brow lightly furrowed.
“Just…” Chloe let out a sigh while she leant back against the kitchen counter, and as she spoke quickly she became more flustered, her hands moving somewhat erratically, “…your face being cradled, the warmth you feel rushing through your body, your lips pressed against someone else’s, your eyes closed while the rest of your senses play catchup, and the sense of feeling complete because someone cares enough about you that they just want to kiss—”
Beca had had enough, the tears that had sprung into Chloe’s eyes being all the required motivation for her to roll her own eyes. So she’d launched suddenly from her chair, had cupped Chloe’s face, and had placed a long firm kiss on her lips.
To Beca’s surprise she didn’t hate the feel of this kiss. She didn’t feel weirded out or anxious. In fact, Chloe was right when she’d said the part about feeling complete. And it was probably thanks to the way Chloe was kissing her back. Or the way Chloe’s arms had wrapped round her waist.
“What was that for?” Chloe managed to choke out as Beca took a whole step back to clear her throat once their kiss had ended. Beca shrugged.
“You said you love being kissed.”
A coy smile slowly crept onto Chloe’s face. A smile that was gradually mirrored by Beca.
“I do love being kissed.”
“Well there you go then.” Beca replied, followed by a purse-lipped smile. The two best friends fell silent, the kissed they’d just shared echoing on their lips. Beca slowly made her way back to the tiny kitchen table she’d been sat at, feeling a blush scale its way from her chest, up her neck, and up and over towards her cheeks.
That had been a bold move, especially for Beca, even though it hadn’t been ‘a move’ at all. Only when she’d started looking down at her laptop, her palms resting flat against the surface of the table while she stood, did she notice the water bottle Chloe had been holding now laying on the floor by her feet. It had clearly been dropped at some point during Beca’s sudden surging move. Dropped and rolled over to the table instead.
Beca reached down to collect it and, upon turning on the spot to hand it to her best friend, she noticed the redhead hadn’t moved at all. Instead Chloe remained in a similar position that she’d been in before, once Beca had broken the kiss.
“You ok there, Chlo?” Beca asked with a smirk. She’d never seen Chloe come down from a flappy-stressy moment this quickly before. It was at this moment, as she held the bottle out to the woman, that she noticed Chloe had been anxiously twirling the rings on fingers. Perhaps Chloe hadn’t settled as quickly as she’d first thought.
“I’d like another kiss.”
Forget the ‘bold move’ Beca had produced a short while ago, those four words had been bold too. Arguably bolder to some. And it had Beca chuckling slightly, that blush returning to her cheeks.
“From me? Or shall I stick my head out of the door and see if old batty Morag from two doors down is available?”
She was joking. Of course she was. Joking about their crazed neighbour who so often stalked the corridors of the apartment block in the middle of the night, a bowl of cat food in one hand and a little ‘tinkle bell’ in the other, claiming to have lost her cat. Fortunately Chloe had sensed the joke, and her shoulders noticeably relaxed as she let out a chuckle of her own.
“I’d really rather it was you.”
“Are you sure?” Beca teased, a broad smile on her face, “Because I bet the hairs on her chin are a delight.”
The apartment filled with the sound of Chloe’s laughter, and Beca’s heart soared at the sound of it. So full and delightful. She hadn’t heard Chloe laugh this way in such a long time. And she could’ve put it down to her teasing sentence, but it may have had something to do with the kiss they’d shared a few moments ago.
Suddenly Chloe snorted, her laughter having become so full, and it had Beca bursting into laughter herself.
“Did you just snort?!??”
“Stoppppp!” Chloe replied, bringing a hand to her face as she tried to muffle her giggles, but Beca was enjoying this too much.
“Well there’s no way Morag will want to kiss you now.”
“Eww! Stop iiiiiit!” Chloe whined, grinning and reaching out to swipe at Beca’s arm with the back of her hand, causing a cackle to erupt from the back of Beca’s throat.
“Alright, alright.” Beca conceded, rocking on the heels of her feet playfully. This was fun. They never had fun like this anymore.
Life seemed so serious and hard work. The monotony of routine, and bills, and keeping themselves both mentally and physically healthy, while trying to keep in contact with their respective family and friends who wanted to know how they were doing. It was nice to have this moment to almost strip themselves back and revisit the core foundations of their friendship. The playful side of it.
“Good job I’m willing to kiss you again, huh?” Beca mused, their laughter having subsided, both now standing with soft smiles on their faces.
As far as Beca was aware, neither of them had ever really considered the other in a romantic capacity. For as long as she’d known Chloe, she’d been aware of a connection they shared. A connection she couldn’t even describe. Over the years, knowing Chloe and spending time with Chloe meant she felt naturally paired up with her. Like peanut butter and jelly. Like somehow being with Chloe made her feel complete. But that didn’t mean they needed to pursue a romantic relationship.
Unbeknownst to Beca, Chloe had absolutely considered a future whereby the two of them had entered a romantic relationship. Many different futures. And in each of them they’d been blissfully happy and in love. Because Chloe was also aware of the connection they had. Of how complete they made each other feel.
“So come on then.” Beca eventually said with an amused expression, her arms held aloft at hip height, awaiting Chloe’s body to inevitably come crashing against her.
“Wait, me??” Chloe looked both confused and amused.
“Well yeah, you’re the one wanting to kiss?” Beca tried not to roll her eyes.
“But you’re the one offering to kiss!” Chloe’s giggle bounced with each word she spoke, and it caused a chuckle to surge from Beca’s throat.
“Jeeze, let’s just agree to disagree and kiss, okay?”
“Fine.” Chloe replied, rolling her eyes with a grin, making her way towards Beca who appeared to be all too happy to receive her.
Hands and arms smoothing to rest comfortably around one another’s waists, the two best friends didn’t hesitate, allowing their lips to interlock once more. This time with a softer pressure, eyes closed with gentle smiles on their face’s.
They remained that way for several moments, with nothing more than the sounds of the clanging water pipes and the neighbours above, below and either side of their tiny apartment, along with the ever present hum from the traffic outside. Occasionally their kiss would break with a gentle click, only to allow themselves to change the angle of their faces, before their kiss resumed once more.
And it would’ve remained that way…if it hadn’t been for their other roommate.
“Thanks for keeping the door unlocked guys, I—”
Fat Amy’s sentence came to an abrupt stop. Beca and Chloe immediately ended their kiss with a sudden snap of their lips, and sharply brought their attention to their Australian roommate. All it took was the sight of Fat Amy’s beaming grin beyond her stunned expression to cause Beca to roll her eyes.
“Amyyyyy…” she warned as she peeled her arms from around Chloe’s waist. She didn’t compute the way Chloe cleared her throat, nor did she acknowledge the way the redhead had taken a step backwards to create some distance between them. If they knew their roommate well enough, then Fat Amy was going to blow all of this out of proportion.
“If you tell me that what I just saw wasn’t what I just saw, and that what I just saw - which apparently isn’t what I just saw - isn’t anything serious, then I honestly don’t know-”
Beca had already pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyelids squeezed tight as Amy rambled emphatically. She knew exactly where this was going to lead if she didn’t shut it down fast. Amy would assume that she and Chloe had been sneaking around behind her back, possibly for years, and would immediately notify The Bellas. Which would lead to more awkward conversations that Beca didn’t have the mental or physical capacity to address.
“-Amy it’s nothing!”
The last thing Beca expected was for Chloe to pipe-up. And she didn’t know why the denial made her feel a little sick. She didn’t know why it made her feel as though the rug beneath her feet had suddenly been whipped away.
“What?” Amy sounded wounded, which was what brought Beca to open her eyes again. Sure enough, Amy’s expression matched her tone, “But…”
“It’s Valentine’s Day, Amy.” Beca explained, motioning almost casually in Chloe’s direction, “Chloe wanted to be kissed on Valentines Day, so-”
“-Oh!” Amy’s eyes widened, as though suddenly every answer to every question she’d ever had been revealed. “Right!”
Beca watched in horror as her blonde roommate strode over to Chloe, quickly cupped her cheeks, and kissed her firmly on the lips. Chloe looked equally stunned, the woman’s eyes wide in shock, her arms outstretched by her sides.
There was a weird knot in Beca’s stomach that suddenly tightened at the sight of Chloe being kissed by Amy. A knot she couldn’t quite explain. Was she…jealous? After all, she had no reason to be. Chloe wasn’t her girlfriend. Chloe wasn’t hers romantically. And Fat Amy was just doing exactly what Chloe had asked of Beca only a few moments ago.
But Beca found herself glaring a little at Amy as the kiss came to an abrupt end, the Australian patting Chloe on the head like a dog before muttering proudly “You’re welcome!” then heading over to her side of the studio apartment. Chloe, meanwhile, had cheeks flushed completely red as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve.
“Well that was unexpected.” Beca heard Chloe mumble, the woman beginning to remove the lid of the water bottle as she cleared her throat. Beca was rooted to the spot, watching Chloe closely while her best friend took a long swig of water. And that knot of jealousy remained, bubbling beneath Beca’s conscious mind. Why hadn’t Chloe sounded more grossed-out??
“You ok there, Shortstack?”
Beca snapped her attention over to the other bed to find Fat Amy grinning at her.
“Not feeling jealous are we?” Amy teased, and Beca found her fists balling by her sides, her jaw locking while she found a reasonable set of words to respond with.
“Chloe wanted to be kissed, and she’s been kissed twice so…” Beca managed to muster. She shrugged, attempting to feign nonchalance, while her brain was screaming at how unfair this situation now felt.
So wrapped up was Beca in Amy’s current attempt to tease her, she failed to notice the way Chloe looked over at her longingly. Because, if given the chance, Chloe would make out with Beca again in a heartbeat…
“Oh my god even Beca Mitchell has a Valentines card! Somebody must be desperate!”
Aubrey’s voice echoed around the school corridor, followed by a wild cackle that carried its way down to the locker that Beca was stood at. The brunette grunted, stuffing the card firmly into her bag. God this school was the worst. And all because of her classmate, Aubrey Posen, who seemed to make it a mission to make Beca’s life a living hell.
Beca’d foolishly thought that by moving to this school a year ago she might’ve had a chance to start fresh. To perhaps be a little more popular than she had been at her last school. Which was why she’d begged her big brother to take her to/from school on his motorbike. To give her a cool reputation. The plan had backfired spectacularly and within the first few hours of her first day, Aubrey had managed to convince every kid in this middle school that biker families were sweaty, smelly thugs who shouldn’t be treated kindly.
Beca was so busy trying to keep her head down as she headed away from her locker to her next class that she failed to notice one of Aubrey’s close friends suggesting that she tone-down her bullying, especially as it was Valentines Day - a day of love…
—
“Still here?”
Beca’s eyes snapped up from her feet to look over at the owner of the kind voice. Her stomach lurched. It was Chloe Beale, Aubrey’s best friend. What was she doing talking to her? Approaching her with a soft smile on her face.
“Yeah uh…” Beca paused, grappling for words as Chloe came to a stop beside her on the street outside their school. “…my brother’s late picking me up.”
Chloe simply hummed, looking out ahead of them. Beca, meanwhile, struggled to take her eyes off the redhead. Teen hormones had been treating Chloe very well it seemed. Her hair was in beautiful condition, her skin - though beneath makeup - appeared clear and smooth. But it was Chloe’s eyes that enchanted Beca. That had always enchanted Beca. Even while she was being bullied by Aubrey, she would glance over at Chloe to find the thirteen year old looking at her apologetically, with tears in her eyes.
Just as Beca opened her mouth to ask her classmate why she was still at school, thirty five minutes after the end of day bell, Chloe spoke, her eyes remaining focused ahead of them.
“What did you think of your card?”
Beca snapped her mouth closed, turning to look in the direction that Chloe was looking. She was aware that the girl had begun resting her elbow gently against her own. And she thought back on the card from her mystery ‘admirer’.
Nothing too over-embellished. Just a simple small red heart on the front of a white card with the words ‘Sending love’ written above it. Inside were handwritten words saying something along the lines of ‘You’re really pretty’ and ‘I wish you knew who I was’.
“Yeah it was…nice.” Beca replied slowly. Her mind still boggled that there was someone at school who had a crush on her, and felt so strongly about that crush that they wanted to give her a valentines card to say so.
“I’m glad you liked it.”
Beca looked to the teen, her eyebrows rising, and she noted how relieved Chloe looked despite still looking out ahead of them. Why was Chloe acting as though she’d given that card to Beca anonymously??
“Wha-…you?” Beca blurted, her heart beginning to race. Surely this was some sort of elaborate prank, right? Any minute now Aubrey Posen would leap into view cackling, pulling Chloe away and congratulating her on managing to keep such a straight face. Yet a blush was beginning to show on Chloe’s cheeks as the thirteen year old finally turned to look back at her. “But…why?”
A coy smile spread across Chloe’s face just as a car pulled up before them, blaring classical music.
“Because I think you’re hot.” she replied with a shrug, and Beca felt her heart leap into her throat as the redhead gave her a wink then turned to get into the passenger side of the car. Beca was lost for words, her mouth hanging open as Chloe opened the car door and began slipping into the seat with all the grace and beauty in the world.
“See you tomorrow!” Chloe added brightly, and as the door slammed closed Beca cleared her throat.
“Uh, yeah, see you…”
And she watched as Chloe was slowly driven away from the school by her Dad. What a curious turn of events.
Chloe was on a mission, walking with purpose, her hands clenched by her sides as she approached the door ahead of her. Her heart was racing, and as the seconds ticked on she could feel herself getting angrier and angrier.
Pushing into the room, she allowed the soundproof door to slot closed behind her while her fists remained balled. Meanwhile, her eyes honed in on the figure before her snapping their attention suddenly from the mixing desk they were sat at to look at her. Beca.
“What the hell is your problem??” Chloe snapped, tears already welling up in her eyes. She hated that her natural response to being angry and frustrated was to cry.
“Huh?” Beca responded, the whites of her eyes in clear view while her mouth hung open in shock.
“I tell you I love you and you say ‘yeah me too’?!” She didn’t mean for her voice to crack, but Chloe was feeling hurt.
As of three weeks ago, all her dreams had come true. Out of nowhere (though Chloe had a sneaky suspicion that Fat Amy had tipped her off using very little evidence) Beca had asked her out for coffee. But not ‘just coffee’. On a date. To get coffee. And sit together while drinking it.
It hadn’t been awkward. It hadn’t been embarrassing. It had felt wonderful and easy and nice. As though they’d been dating for the whole four years they’d known each other.
Since that first date, they’d barely been able to keep away from one another. And when they’d been apart they’d texted each other sweet nothings and love-based memes. In fact, everything had felt so right that Chloe had even dared to tell Beca two nights ago that she was in love with her, and Beca had told her she was in love with her too. Love! They were in love! Or so Chloe had thought…
“Are you regretting everything?” Chloe suddenly burst, her breath hitching in her lungs. She was so scared of Beca’s answer because it truly was the most logical reason why Beca hadn’t said she loved her over the phone earlier.
“No-” Beca attempted to respond, but Chloe was beginning to spiral.
“Are you finding us dating too weird?”
“No, I-I-”
“Is the sex that bad??” Chloe asked a little too loudly. She was clutching at straws here, she knew she was, especially as she saw Beca put her head in her hands, “Because I thought I did a really good job the other night when you suggested I-”
“Chloe!!” Beca bellowed, having launched to her feet so she could stride over to her girlfriend. Chloe finally paused long enough to take several deep breaths while Beca held her hands and stared pleadingly into her eyes. And in that moment, Chloe suddenly got the feeling they weren’t alone.
Someone cleared their throat a little way behind them, and Chloe stomach twisted. She knew that throat clear. Sure enough, as she slowly peered over her shoulder to follow Beca’s new line of sight, she saw one of her oldest and dearest friends perched on the arm of one of the couches of the mixing studio. Aubrey miraculously amused, albeit slightly uncomfortable.
Not quite as uncomfortable as the rest of the their friends - The Bellas - who sat on and around the couches provided.
“What did Beca suggest you do the other night, Chloe?” Stacie asked with genuine enthusiasm, sat forward with her chin resting on the back of her hands, giving the two lovers her entire attention. She didn’t flinch when Aubrey scolded her with a light slap on the arm.
“Um…hey guys.” Chloe mumbled, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks in embarrassment while Beca dropped her hands. Oh God, so that was why Beca hadn’t said that she loved her over the phone. Because their friends were here. Their friends who they’d both agreed they wouldn’t tell just yet about their new and blossoming romance. “What’re you all doing here?”
“Beca gathered us here to record a song for your birthday.” Fat Amy blurted with a huge teasing grin on her face, “But witnessing that was so worth it!”
Chloe missed the way Beca furrowed her brow, offended that recording the song had been either an inconvenience for the Australian, or particularly taxing, or both. No, Chloe was still feeling mortified that their ‘secret’ relationship had become public so soon. All because she’d gotten unnecessarily angry.
“Beca, are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into with ol’ Red over here?” Cynthia Rose teased, motioning to Chloe while she grinned, “She’s got a temper.”
Chloe bit her bottom lip, peering back over at Beca. But the brunette simply smiled, smoothing her arm around the small of Chloe’s back, addressing their friends directly.
“I wouldn’t have her any other way.” Beca conceded in a contented tone, smoothing her hand down to pinch Chloe’s butt before heading back over to the mixing desk.
“Well, you’d probably have her with a little less temper, right?” Fat Amy suggested, but Chloe knew her girlfriend. She knew Beca loved her unconditionally. Which was why Beca had chosen not to respond and instead brought up the song they’d recorded, ready to play to Chloe a week earlier than intended.
December weather in New York didn’t get any easier for Florida-born Chloe Beale, no matter how many years she attempted to embrace it. Which, as it happened, was now year three. Three years of freezing, often snowy conditions, that meant the redhead was layered up 24/7 just to keep herself going.
The woman held her phone to her ear just as she stepped into her apartment block, a smile on her face as she felt the warmth spread across her skin.
“Hey Aubrey!” she released a breath, heading for the stairwell, tugging her scarf loose to keep her from getting too hot on the ascent up seven floors to her apartment.
“Hey Chloe, how are things?”
Chloe could hear some rifling in the background of Aubrey’s side of the call, and it didn’t take much for her to imagine that not only was Aubrey probably at work but that she was probably in her office arranging something.
“All good here thanks.” Chloe replied, taking each stair one by one. After three years she didn’t get out of breath much getting up to her apartment anymore. Which was helpful if at the same time she was talking on the phone to someone. “How are things with you?”
“Oh the usual.” came Aubrey’s response, the woman sounding distracted as Chloe heard her remove a pen lid with her teeth. She could picture it too. For all of Aubrey’s manners and need to hold herself to the highest standard, she still pulled a pen lid from the pen with her teeth. Especially if her hands were full.
“Same here. Nothing new.”
“Nothing new? So Beca’s still acting weird then, huh?”
Aubrey’s rhetorical question brought a coy grin to Chloe’s face and the redhead hovered her foot over the top step of the stairwell, that would lead to the doors of her apartment floor, before continuing on. Because Aubrey was right. Beca was still acting weird.
Not in a way that would be noticeable to strangers or Beca’s colleagues. Not even Beca’s immediate family would have noticed any change, mostly because they didn’t see her much or know her all too well. But the Bellas had noticed. Chloe had noticed.
“Well she hasn’t turned up to the sanctuary unannounced this week, if that’s how we’re classing the term ‘weird’.” Chloe replied with an amused grin on her face. Because that particular situation, which had happened ten days ago, had been weird.
“Beca??”
Chloe furrowed her brow, her eyes honing in on the scratch marks that were currently up both of Beca’s arms, light amounts of blood oozing from them. Beca was here. At the place she volunteered at on the weekends. And…Beca looked like she was volunteering too.
“Hey.” came Beca’s reply, seemingly forcing it out while she smiled awkwardly.
“Hey.” Chloe paused, her brow remaining furrowed while a black cat laid curled around her shoulders, purring away. “What are you doing here??”
“I’m volunteering. Like you are.”
Chloe noticed the flicker of hesitation on her best friend’s face, and she wasn’t surprised to see it in the slightest. They both knew that Beca had a strong dislike of cats.
“On purpose or…?” Chloe shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her hands picking at her cuticles, unintentionally mirroring Beca’s body language.
“Well you always say how fun it is here, so I thought I’d check it out.”
Beca’s tone hardly oozed that of a woman having fun. Chloe opened her mouth to say something but she was still stunned, so no noise came out of her throat.
It was no wonder Beca’s arms were all cat-scratched up. The woman had chosen a short sleeve shirt - a very unusual choice for late November - while Chloe had opted for her usual outfit choice when volunteering with the cats: an old sweater that she really wasn’t attached too anymore, paired with an old pair of leggings, and old tatty sneakers.
Beca didn’t own tatty clothes. If anything she prided herself on that fact. So it was no wonder the woman looked so well put-together, by volunteer standards. For a moment Chloe found herself glancing down the length of Beca’s body and her mouth ran dry. Beca looked hot.
“Did…do you want me to show you around?” Chloe found herself asking, motioning to the corridor behind her where the rest of the cats resided. She noticed Beca’s hesitation and awaited the woman’s nose to inevitably scrunch up. But credit to the woman, Beca just shrugged.
“Sure. As it’s you.”
Chloe later found out that Beca had already received a tour round the cat sanctuary, and had also asked whether Chloe had taken a shine to any specific cats. Which, as it happened, Chloe had. The cat that had been around her shoulders when Beca had appeared - Augustus - was her favourite cat. Chloe wondered if he was still there.
That was the hardest part of volunteering whilst also trying to juggle a part time job and studying full time. In the days between volunteering, sometimes cats got rehomed before Chloe even got a chance to say goodbye. It never got any easier, even a year on from when she’d started.
“But has she said anything more to suggest she has a crush on you?” Aubrey’s voice sounded surprisingly hopeful. It was strange to think Aubrey had once disliked Beca. But the blonde had changed her tune when Chloe had declared to her that she was in unrequited love with Beca. Love that Aubrey had recently suggested might not be quite as unrequited as Chloe first thought.
“Not exactly. But she did check with me this morning that we were getting each other Christmas presents?”
“And are you?”
It was a dumb question, and Chloe wondered if Aubrey had realised. She didn’t wait for her best friend to admit it. Instead she rolled her eyes, delving into her coat pocket for her apartment door key.
“Well duh, she’s the love of my life Aubrey.” her voice low in case any of the neighbours heard through the thin walls of the building, “Of course I’m going to get her a present!”
Because she’d been getting Beca a present every Christmas since the year she’d first met her. First year had been a pen - an expensive pen. Second year had been a set of Beats - another expensive gift. And each year after that Chloe had blasted through her college fund trying to top the previous year’s gift for the woman she quite simply adored: concert tickets, jewellery, a tattoo gift voucher, a hot air balloon ride…
This year was going to be highly anticlimactic. Not only did Chloe spend most of her money on rent or bills, but she also couldn’t justify spending a tonne of money on a gift for Beca when Beca knew exactly how much she earned. Beca would see it as a waste of money. And to Chloe’s slight disappointment in herself, she’d see it as a waste of money too. When had she become so…ungenerous?
“Okay, just, make sure it’s a little better informed than last year’s, yeah?”
Had Beca been entirely confused by the hot air balloon ride gift? Yes. Had Chloe forgotten Beca was afraid of heights? Sure. Had she only been reminded of this fact when they’d already set off in said hot air balloon ride back in August? Most definitely.
“It’s just a hamper this year, Bree.” Chloe replied with a sigh, finally getting the key into her apartment door and realising it was already unlocked. Beca must’ve already got home. “Nothing exciti—”
Chloe stood, frozen to the spot, her gasp now caught in her throat. There stood Beca, equally frozen to the spot, having clearly not expected Chloe home just yet. And there, round Beca’s shoulders, was Augustus! The very cat Chloe had formed an attachment to at the cat sanctuary.
“Chloe?” came Aubrey’s voice, the sound tinny while it emanated from Chloe’s phone. “Is everything ok?”
Chloe swallowed loudly, watching while Beca slowly and expertly coaxed the cat from around her shoulders. She sat on the edge of their shared bed, Augustus immediately moving to curl up on her lap. His purr was so loud Chloe could barely arrange her thoughts.
Beca hated cats. What was she doing with one in their apartment? With the one??
“Uh, hey.” Beca finally choked out, her cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment. And Chloe found herself slowly closing the door to their apartment over behind her, tears beginning to well in her eyes as Beca added with as causal a shrug as possible, “So I adopted a cat for us.”
Have a spectacular day and enjoy this little bit of Beca/Kommissar from the perspective of Chloe 👀 (because I saw you were a bit of a Bechloe shipper too)
Becommissar - The One
It all felt a little bit sudden - at least to Chloe it did - and as she actively avoided looking at Beca from across the kitchen while nursing a mug of hot glüwein, she tried to ignore the knot in her stomach. Because she’d missed her chance. She knew she had.
The room was a hive of activity of course, it always was at The Bellas’ annual Christmas get-together. Flo and Cynthia-Rose in charge of food; Lily stood quietly between Jessica & Ashley, helping them arrange the dining table, Aubrey in charge of topics of conversation while Stacie and Emily set up impending board games across the other side of the room; Fat Amy with her head in her phone texting her latest bit on the side with a smirk while occasionally chipping into the conversation.
Chloe had decided this year to take charge of stirring the mulled wine, which this year was labelled ‘Glüwein’ in honour of this year’s special guest. The elephant in the room. The only person who stood out of the group, not least of all because of her height. Kommissar. Kommissar who was stood very close to Beca, their sides pressed casually against one another, as if for support.
Chloe should’ve spotted the signs sooner. She had spotted the signs sooner. Or at least…she’d noticed something had changed in Beca. Like she somehow seemed lighter, and happier. Which was what almost cut Chloe the deepest. Because for the longest of times she’d always thought she was the one who made Beca like that. That she would be the one who would make Beca like that forever.
“Why are you always wearing heels nowadays?” Chloe asked, scrunching her nose as she looked up an extra couple of inches to catch her best friend’s eye. But Beca looked away on purpose, an embarrassed expression on her face.
“I’ve always worn heels.” she replied, but it wasn’t good enough for Chloe.
“Yeah to go out-out once a month maybe. But it’s 8.30am…” ‘on a Tuesday’ she was going to add, but she was so stunned by Beca turning her back on her that the rest of her sentence got caught in her throat. Beca never turned her back on her while they chatted. Perhaps during an argument, sure, but never during a casual conversation.
She watched in silence as her best friend moved from the fridge where she’d pulled out a bottle of water, to the front door of the studio apartment they shared.
“I won’t be back for dinner tonight so don’t worry about making enough for me.” were the last words Beca casually threw her way, almost hastily. As if trying to avoid more questions. And before Chloe could open her mouth to curiously ask her what she’d be up to after work today, Beca had stepped out of the apartment, swinging the door closed behind her.
“You gonna do anything with that glüwein, Chloe? Or are you just soothing it to sleep with that ladle?”
Stacie’s teasing voice knocked Chloe out of her thoughts, and she broke into an embarrassed smile when she noticed couple of mugs being held out towards her. Taking them one by one she filled them with the warm liquid, loving the scent of the spices as they wafted past her nostrils. The last time she’d been around mulled wine had been…
“I’m sorry…she- you’re what?” Chloe shook her head briefly, reaching to grab a fistful of her best friend’s jacket as she strained her ears to hear every single word that fell from Beca’s mouth again.
“The woman I’ve been seeing.” Beca replied, “It’s Kommissar.”
Chloe felt her heart launch into her throat, her mouth dropping open.
“Kommissar? As in… that German woman from Worlds?!” she watched as a coy smile spread across Beca’s face, the woman biting her bottom lip. Beca was clearly thrilled about this. Almost proud. “Kommissar who was like five years older than us??”
“Five years older than me.” Beca defended, “Two years older than you.”
Oh because that made it all the more better. Chloe was speechless. Dumbfounded. She reached out for the cup of mulled wine that was held out towards her by the server of the market stall before them, her brain now feeling as numb as her nose felt in the cold November breeze.
“Yeah she found me on Facebook back in the Summer.” Beca added, grunting her thanks to the stall server while handing over some money. “We got talking and…turns out she’s pretty cool.”
Pretty cool. Chloe felt sick. She was pretty cool. She’d known Beca for six years. Kommissar was a stranger. This slow walk back to their apartment had suddenly become excruciating.
“I know it’s only been six months Chlo, but…I think she’s the one.”
“Wow, that’s…great.” Chloe winced, then gasped, then groaned as the large sip of hot mulled wine ran down her throat, scalding her insides as it went. And she wondered if this entire situation was karma for having held a flame for her best friend for so many years.
“And it turned out, he’d been there the whole time!”
The Bellas’ collectively roared with laughter at the punchline of Fat Amy’s latest story, knowing full well it had been laced with many embellishments and over-exaggerations. The only person not to laugh was Kommissar, stood quietly by Beca’s side with a serious and confused look on her face.
“I do not understand.” she said, and the room fell silent, The Bellas’ looking awkwardly at one another. Chloe swallowed loudly while Beca turned to Kommissar, an affectionate expression on the brunette’s face as she quietly explained in the best possible way.
The Duolingo chime echoed around the studio apartment, putting Chloe’s teeth on edge. Three weeks. It’d been three weeks since Beca had told her about Kommissar. Three weeks since everything had suddenly changed.
Beca was barely home. And when she was, she was either texting her girlfriend relentlessly or on Duolingo, apparently feverishly trying to learn as much German as possible to impress Kommissar’s family who would be congregating at Kommissar’s apartment for New Year.
Chloe stirred her spoon slowly around her mug to mix the sugar into her coffee. She mourned the closeness she’d once had with Beca, not realising how special their bond had been until now. Until it had gone.
“Do you need the sound on?” she eventually snapped, not meaning to seem so infuriated. She’d spun on the spot to glare at her best friend as she spoke, to find Beca laid on their bed, looking up from her phone with a frown. The atmosphere in the apartment had been tense for several days. It seemed as though things were about to bubble over between them.
“Well yeah, dude. There’s no way of doing Duolingo without the sound on.” Beca snarked back. Chloe saw the way her best friend pursed her lips, and she knew what that meant. Of course she did - she knew Beca better than anyone.
“I just feel like you’re being unfair.” Chloe replied, her hands rising to her hips, having thrown her teaspoon onto the work surface beside her. This was unfair. This was Chloe’s only day off, the last thing she wanted was to have her peace disturbed by an irritating chime going off every several seconds.
Her words were enough for Beca to sit up, ready to defend herself. Oh yeah. This was going to turn into a fight.
“Look, just because we kissed one time, doesn’t give you the right to get shitty with me when I start getting serious with another woman!”
“Oh my god, you think I’m pissed at you because we kissed??” Chloe burst, her heart hammering against her chest. One kiss. It had been one kiss and the biggest mistake of her life. She was still reeling from it now, almost twelve months on.
“I think you’re jealous of her, yeah!” Beca bit back, now up on her knees on the mattress, glowering fiercely.
“Believe me, wanting to be her is the furthest thing I could ever want!” Chloe snapped, tears now springing into her eyes. It was the truth. She hated this. All of this. Having to live with her best friend who she’d had a raging crush on for years, only for her best friend to let her down when she’d finally shared her feelings, then to have to try to resume being just friends… it’d been such a hard year. Now to have Beca in love with someone else…
“Oh I’m that bad huh?” Beca barked.
“The absolute worst!” Chloe replied faster than her brain could focus in on what she was really trying to say. It wasn’t Beca who was the worst. It was this situation. And Chloe blamed herself profoundly for having been so secretly and stupidly in love with Beca for so long.
“Then maybe I should just move out!”
“Maybe you should!”
It’d been a horrible couple of weeks. Horrible. But seeing the way Beca was around Kommissar, and seeing the way Kommissar was around Beca, made Chloe realise just how in love Beca was with the German. And just how platonic Beca felt about Chloe. How platonic she must’ve always felt.
“Don’t worry, Kommissar.” Chloe found herself saying, being overly gracious with her smile. Fortunately the blonde hadn’t noticed. Beca had though. “None of us really understood Amy to begin with.”
The smile she received from Kommissar was a grateful one, and Chloe felt a huge sense of relief. The woman wasn’t nearly as intimidating as Chloe remembered. Perhaps because she no longer saw her as a threat - neither in the acapella world or with regards to Beca. Kommissar had won Beca. Chloe (and Beca and The Bellas) had won Worlds. That was all that mattered now.
Chloe took a moment to glance at Beca and her relief was topped up when she saw a grateful smile from her best friend drifting past her internal barriers. She chose not to lament over the way Beca had smoothed a hand across the small of Kommissar’s back. A hand that Chloe had once wished would smooth over her own.
“I thought you were out tonight!” Beca hissed, shrugging her jacket on. Chloe felt sick. Physically and emotionally sick. The last thing she’d expected to walk in on, in her own apartment, was Beca making out with Kommissar on her bed. Yes, the bed she happened to share with Beca, but still…
“I’ve been out!!!” Chloe snapped back in a shriller tone than she’d meant to use, “I didn’t think I would need to tell you I was on my way home!”
“I hadn’t been planning on-” Beca began, but was stopped abruptly by Chloe’s hand that was raised to stop her before she said any more.
“-I don’t need to know what you had or hadn’t been planning on doing with your girlfriend.”
“No need to say it like that.”
“Like what?” Chloe had folded her arms, stood between Beca and the door even though they both knew Kommissar stood on the other side, out in the corridor, waiting for Beca to join her.
“Girlfriend.” Beca repeated in a mimicked tone, as if taking the rise out of the way Chloe spoke, “Like you’re jealous.”
Chloe couldn’t help the growl that came from the back of her throat as she rolled her eyes.
“For the last time I’m not jealous!!” she shrieked, hating that any time she blinked she caught a flash of Kommissar’s naked breast that would probably be forever blazoned into the back of her mind. Not least of all the sight of Beca’s mouth on said breast.
“Then stop being so weird about it, Chloe!” With that final sentence, Beca pushed past Chloe and out of the apartment. Leaving Chloe stood in silence, her mouth hanging open in shock.
—
“Guys, I think we’re gonna head off.” Beca chirped, already slipping her leather jacket on while the women before her all cried out in dismay, or in the case of Fat Amy simply booed. Kommissar was in the process of finding her own jacket amongst the pile on the floor by the front door (“I promise I’ll get around to putting those coat hooks up soon.” Emily had said.).
It had been a fun few hours, but as most of these things went now that they were in their late 20s/early 30s, they all had places to be in the morning. Who knew when they’d next find a time to be all together again. Probably next Christmas, as had been the case last Christmas. And the Christmas before that.
Chloe had unintentionally found herself at the back of the group, as each Bella said their goodbye to Beca, then to Kommissar.
Each Bella said how nice it was to see Beca. Each Bella laughed with Kommissar about how tall she was. And credit to Kommissar, she laughed in return. A genuine laugh at that.
Whether it was a stroke of luck, or whether it had been a ploy, Chloe suddenly found that Fat Amy had dragged Kommissar away from Beca to get Emily to mark their heights on the wall with a pencil (“You’re not that much taller than me!”), just as it was Chloe’s turn to say goodbye to Beca.
The two women stood before one another with soft smiles on their faces. And Chloe did everything in her power not to burst into tears as Beca wrapped her arms around her for the first time in months, and gave her a tight hug.
“Hey, would you look at that.” Beca said in an amused tone, pointing up at the cluster of mistletoe stuck haphazardly above them as they passed underneath, on their way through to the living space at the back of Jessica & Ashley’s apartment.
Chloe looked up, her heart beginning to beat a little faster. She couldn’t do it. Surely. They’d walked under plenty of mistletoe before. But all those other times, Beca had been with Jesse. This Christmas however…
Surging over to Beca, Chloe cupped the woman’s cheeks, a placed a firm yet affectionate kiss on the woman’s mouth. A kiss that, to Chloe’s delight, was reciprocated. Reciprocated.
This was it! Finally, after years of yearning, she’d finally kissed Beca, and Beca was kissing her back. Beca was wrapping her arms around her waist. Beca was leaning into her!
“I’ve wanted to do that for so many years.” Chloe burst quietly, a broad smile spreading onto her face as she leant back to assess Beca’s reaction. But to her horror, Beca’s initial smirk had dropped.
“Oh.” was all Beca grunted, her arms having already returned to her sides as she took a step backwards. A step away from Chloe. Chloe felt the distance immediately, and in that moment, she knew she’d screwed up.
“I just…” she was attempting to back-peddle, and fast, but her brain wasn’t computing, “…I-I mean I’ve had feelings for you for a long time. It’s just nice to have had a moment to express those feelings, you know?”
The silence that followed felt like it went on for a lifetime as Chloe stared into Beca’s wide eyes with wide eyes of her own. But eventually, as the noise of chatter from the back room began to increase and filter through to where they were stood, Beca finally found her voice.
“Look, Chloe that kiss was really nice. Truly. But…”
There was a but. And with that ‘but’, Chloe felt her dreams from the past five years slipping away. Smashing to pieces. Her heart breaking clean in two.
“…you’re my best friend. If it was five years ago, things might’ve been different but… I-I don’t want to risk us getting into something more, only for us to break up later down the line.”
Chloe opened her mouth, ready to protest. Ready to prove why she would do absolutely everything and anything in her power to make sure that didn’t happen. That they would be together forever.
“You mean the world to me, Chlo. I don’t want to take the risk and lose you.”
Chloe’s breath stuck in her throat. Risk. Beca saw them as a risk. Beca was running away from something that could be amazing. She saw any potential love they could have beyond the platonic love they currently held to be too much of a risk, if it meant that it went sour suddenly and they no longer wanted to be around each other.
Suddenly Chloe understood. She understood why Beca had snapped away from her the second she’d uttered those stupid words about her feelings. She didn’t want to lose Beca either. And sure, she didn’t feel as though a weight had been lifted for finally revealing things to Beca…but she hoped one day it would. She hoped one day things would feel better.
“Thank you.” Chloe heard Beca mumble, keeping hold of her as they relished a hug that felt as though it was sealing the cracks that had been showing in their friendship over the past few weeks. And Chloe simply hugged her back even harder, her eyes closed to try and make the most of this moment. Not knowing when she’d see Beca next.
“I’ll always be here for you, Bec.” Chloe mumbled in return, and as she opened her eyes, she noticed The Bellas and Kommissar had returned to the room. She knew she hadn’t had to say it. She hoped she hadn’t. She hoped Beca knew.
“I know, Chlo.” Beca said affectionately as she peeled out of the hug, “Same right here.”
And Chloe completely believed her. They’d always have each other, even if it was just as best friends. She watched as Beca headed back over to Kommissar, walking impressively in high heels so the height difference between herself and her tall girlfriend wasn’t too great. Chloe tried to ignore the tug in her heart as Beca took Kommissar’s hand to guide her out of the room.
Beca looked so content and relaxed as she said a calm “Merry Christmas, awesome nerds.” And as The Bellas cried out a jolly “Merry Christmas!” in return, Chloe noticed Beca catch her eye, her smile growing just for her before the couple left the apartment.
Chloe hadn’t felt so calm before. She took a deep breath. This was a good thing. All of it. And what a nice way to feel at Christmas time.
“So is anyone going to mention the height difference or am I going to have to start proceedings?” came Fat Amy’s drunken slur, and Chloe couldn’t help the chuckle that fell from her mouth as Fat Amy added “I mean, we were all thinking it!”
Thanks for being an absolute legend and organising this year’s Pitchmas exchange. And as a thanks, I had to write you something. Though all you said to me was that if someone gifted you something in this gift exchange, you’d be happy with anything, so here we go!
Bechloe - Anything
The studio apartment was freezing, which was normal for this time of year, even with the hot water pipes clanking through the apartment block as they expanded from their heat. Cars rumbled outside as usual, even though it was 7am on Christmas morning, the thin and only window of the apartment being no match to the sounds of the vehicles’ noisy exhausts and horns.
Beca woke slowly, taking a deep intake of breath through her nose and folding her arms across her stomach beneath the heavy blanket. She didn’t usually feel this cold in bed.
A light clinking noise could be heard from the kitchen area of the studio apartment and it caused Beca to fling her eyes open. Sitting up suddenly, she didn’t register the cool conditions that lay outside the cocoon of her bedding. Instead her eyes clasped on the sight of her roommate - her best friend - dressed in a very fluffy Santa’s Elf onesie with the fluffiest of Christmas boots. Chloe hated the cold.
“What’re you doing??” Beca whined, making no attempt to leave the warm bed. She noted, thanks to the only light in the apartment coming from the fridge that Chloe had just opened, that an amused smile had spread across the redhead’s face.
“Merry Christmas to you too.” came the woman’s playful reply, a slight croak to her voice thanks to last week’s three-day flu that she had almost completely recovered from. Beca had to admit, it made Chloe’s voice sound extra sexy.
“I mean, I was going to get up extra early today and make the morning coffee.” Beca added, bringing a hand to her eyes to rub them gently and hissing at the realisation of just how cold the apartment was.
“And yet here I am.” Chloe replied, her voice still amused and croaky as she stirred milk into two mugs of coffee. And Beca formed a tired grin.
They’d been living here in Brooklyn, in this tiny apartment, for over a year now. And every morning since moving in, Chloe had made herself and Beca a coffee before either of them dared to venture into ‘getting ready for the day’ territory.
Over the past couple of days Beca had been thinking back on the early weeks and months in this apartment. Thinking back on how stupid she must’ve been. How stupid Chloe must’ve been. Because of course she’d had a raging crush on Chloe and of course Chloe had had a raging crush on her. It was obvious now. Now that they’d finally revealed all to each other last night, on Christmas Eve of all evenings. How cliché.
“I still think it’s crazy you didn’t go home for Christmas.” Beca declared, enjoying the feel of Chloe’s fingertips playing with a lock of her long brown hair while she rested her head in the woman’s lap. This was their usual evening position, laid on their shared bed watching Netflix after work. It had all happened by accident several months ago. Neither had addressed it. It had just kept happening.
“Hey, you didn’t go home either.” Chloe croaked, her voice having worn out a little after a day of volunteering at the local animal sanctuary. Turned out it was a popular place for people to visit on Christmas Eve, looking for pets to adopt last minute to please their children.
“I only got two days off work.” Beca replied, “A perfectly good excuse.”
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that it’s your Mom’s turn to host Christmas?” Chloe asked almost rhetorically, because she knew exactly how stressed Beca got when she went to her mother’s for any occasion, particularly Christmas.
Beca simply hummed, which was neither in agreement or disagreement. It was more a hum in reaction to Chloe having now wound her fingertips to her cheek to gently stroke it before heading back through her hair.
“That still doesn’t answer the mystery of why you didn’t go home for Christmas.” she eventually managed, her eyes starting to drift closed. Even though today was Christmas Eve, it had been as busy as ever at work. This was her favourite part of any day. Getting to lay with Chloe without a care or thought in the world. In these particular moments Beca just felt safe and calm and at peace with herself and all her life choices.
“What makes you think I’m not home right now?”
Chloe’s response brought Beca out of her haze, her conscious self suddenly stepping out into the present. She glanced down at her hands, one of which had been twisting the chord of the nightgown she was wearing, twisting it around her right fingers. Chloe’s nightgown. And with that one sentence Beca realised what this was. This act of being together so comfortably and innocently was quite simply home.
“You’re my home too, Chlo.”
The soft smile on her face added to the genuineness of her admission, assuming it had been in response to Chloe saying that Beca was her home. But she hadn’t. And Beca realised this when Chloe suddenly stopped stroking her hair.
After a moment or two, Beca slowly sat herself up slightly, enough to turn her gaze to the redhead. Chloe looked calm, if not a little hopeful. And she noticed the way her best friend let out a shaky exhale while their smiles broadened.
It was impressive, Beca thought, how clear and well moisturised Chloe’s skin looked, even after spending the day out in the cold air cleaning out the donkey enclosure. How plump and well cared for Chloe’s lips looked. Her eyes drew their way back up to Chloe’s as she noticed the redhead inch her face ever so slightly closer to hers, before hesitating, clearly waiting for Beca to either reciprocate the move or move away.
Beca’s heart thumped against her chest while her breath caught in her lungs, and after a beat she began to lean her face over to Chloe’s. Their eyes drifted shut. And they shared the sweetest, most gentle first kiss anyone had ever shared before. A first kiss that both knew meant a lot. A lot to themselves. A lot to the other.
“I’ll make the second coffee’s.” Beca offered, as she reached out to receive the mug Chloe held out to her. She noted the amused smirk on the redhead’s face and she knew why. Chloe would beat her to that next coffee. She always did. Today probably wouldn’t be any different, even with it being Christmas Day.
“Sure you will, babe.” came Chloe’s croaky reply while she settled her own mug of coffee onto her bedside table before clambering into the bed. The use of pet name had caused Beca’s heart to skip a beat. Because things felt different. And at the very same time, it felt like nothing had changed at all.
“That was nice.” Beca mumbled against Chloe’s skin, having just broken their first kiss, and as she peeled her forehead from Chloe’s, she noticed the way the woman bit her bottom lip as she nodded gently.
“Mmm.” Chloe hummed in agreement, clearly thrilled by this new turn of events, her eyes shining from the light of the battery powered fairy lights that were draped across the back of their bed. Chloe looked beautiful.
“So have I solved the mystery then?” Beca asked, her fingers having found the hem of Chloe’s sleeve, gently playing with the fabric while Chloe’s brow furrowed slightly in curiosity.
“Mystery?” Chloe croaked.
“You stayed here for me?” Beca asked with a playful grin, and in her heart-of-hearts she knew it was true. Sure enough Chloe took a deep intake of breath, her smile soft while she reached a hand up and affectionately curled Beca’s hair behind her ear.
“I stayed at Barden for you. Moved to Brooklyn for you. And yeah…stayed here to spend Christmas with you.”
It was probably one of the most romantic things anyone had ever done for her, Beca was sure of it. Just like she was sure that she’d inadvertently done the same for Chloe too.
She could’ve left Barden after her freshman year. She could’ve told Chloe not to move with her to New York. She could’ve insisted Chloe go to her childhood home to spend Christmas with her loving parents and siblings. Instead Beca had stayed. Beca had allowed. Beca had opened herself up ready to be enveloped by this love that Chloe had freely given her for so many years. That she appeared to be freely giving now.
“Can I just get something out there that may seem a bit soon?” Beca blurted, not even giving Chloe time to snuggle under the blankets once back in bed. The sudden change in Beca’s tone and demeanour caused Chloe to pause every movement, and they peered through the low-light at one another, Chloe attempting to read Beca’s expression.
Beca reached behind her quickly to turn the fairy lights on, not wanting to miss Chloe’s reaction. Hoping and praying that she wasn’t about to ruin everything. But how could she?
Their second kiss was a little firmer. A little more exciting. And Beca had taken it on herself to smooth her hands round to rest on Chloe’s hips, then to the small of her back, all while Chloe proceeded to cradle Beca’s face between her hands. Their heads rocked in time while their breath washed across each others’ skin.
Beca had never felt anything like it before. Kissing Chloe was sensational. And it couldn’t just be because Chloe was a sensational kisser. Surely it had something to do with the fact that they knew each other so well. That they’d harboured such a deep love for one another for so long that it was almost a relief to finally be able to express that love more physically. More intimately.
“I’ll say it if you say it back.” came Chloe’s response, which surprised Beca. But in a way it didn’t surprise Beca at all. Because she knew, deep down, exactly how Chloe felt for her, just as she knew exactly how she felt for Chloe.
So with a broad smile spreading across her face that mirrored Chloe’s, Beca took a huge intake of breath, saying words she’d never said so intently before in her life. That she was sure she’d never say to anyone else in the same way ever again.
“I’m in love with you.”
The exact words said at the exact same time by both women to each other echoed around the freezing apartment. Then silence as they both beamed at one another, before they both let out bashful chuckles.
“Phew.” Beca uttered, which brought another chuckle tumbling from Chloe’s mouth, mumbling the sentiment in return before pulling open the blanket to tuck herself into the space beside the brunette.
They laid facing one another, staring at each others’ features that were lit by the low glow of the fairy lights resting across the top of their bed. Neither would admit looking particularly attractive at that moment in time, the early morning chill and post-sleep puffiness affecting their faces the most. But both Beca and Chloe couldn’t help admiring the beauty in each other.
“I didn’t think anything could top last year’s present,” Chloe croaked, her legs now tangled with Beca’s beneath the heavy blanket, their arms around one another’s waists, “but you’ve done it.”
“Bottomless?!”
Beca couldn’t help the beaming smile on her face as she watched Chloe’s reaction to the plethora of cocktails laid out before them at the high-end rooftop bar in Manhattan. If there was one thing she knew about her best friend it was that Chloe loved cocktails, Chloe loved getting dressed up, and she loved rooftop bars. So when the record company offered Beca an invitation to try the new rooftop bar near their offices as a prospective location to take clients, Beca jumped at the chance to take Chloe to try it out.
“All you can drink, Chlo.” Beca confirmed, and she couldn’t help but chuckle at Chloe’s delightful squeal as the redhead squeezed her upper arm excitably. This was nice. Really nice.
“Well don’t get too excited next year.” Beca mumbled with a drowsy smile, trying to stay awake. It was difficult to stay awake in bed when Chloe drifted her fingertips through her hair. “I reckon today I’ve peaked in terms of gift giving.”
“Oh I reckon there’s something else you could give me. One day.”
Beca knew that tone, and it turned her drowsy smile into a smirk. Her eyes locked with Chloe’s again. What were they to each other now? Girlfriends? Lovers? It was hard to be lovers when they hadn’t actually made love yet. But they’d declared their love…?
“Give me a year to save up at least.” Beca replied, having thought of nothing more since Chloe had fallen asleep sometime last night than proposing to and marrying the woman one day. But Chloe’s eyebrows rose.
“Save up?”
In an instant Beca realised what Chloe had meant. So her eyes rolled as she beamed at the redhead.
“Oh trust you to be thinking about sex!”
Laughter from Beca and a croaky cackle from Chloe erupted within the apartment, and the two new lovers pulled each other’s bodies closer beneath the blankets, sharing the millionth kiss they’d had in eight hours.
