and i screamed, “for whatever it’s worth,
i love you,”
ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?
— cruel summer, taylor swift
bechloe x taylor swift
They have been doing this dance for years, Beca and Chloe. Whether playful hints or serious, over-the-line moments, they have been doing this dance for years.
Beca’s freshman year of college, where she’d find her wandering gaze drifting toward Chloe Beale’s inexplicably inviting lips. She’d study the curves of her shoulders, the definition of toned abs through the fabric of her shirts. It wasn’t serious then, though. It was a crush, one that Beca had no interest in pursuing, because that is all it was: just a crush.
A few years later, post-breakup with Jesse—Beca’s first and only serious relationship to date—when Chloe had come home a little later than usual from work, to find Beca drinking her troubles away. She had been curled up on the couch, tucked into herself so protectively. Tear marks tracked her cheeks, and while Chloe never pointed them out, she saw them. She heard those quiet sobs as she wrapped her arms tightly around Beca’s body, pulling her into a warm embrace. Chloe felt those desperate tears through the fabric of her shirt, warm and painful, the entire scene so devastatingly sobering.
Beca had cried, but not because of Jesse. Beca had cried because she felt like she wasn’t good enough, like she was unlovable and nobody would ever truly want her.
Chloe had pushed a kiss, soft and sincere, into her matted locks, and whispered a heartfelt, “You’re not unlovable, Beca. You can’t be unlovable, because I love you.”
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