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Beca Mitchell is a badass, or so she thinks she is. She has that "fuck-off-or-I'll-chop-your-head-off” vibe, and everybody knows that.
Everybody except that damn redhead who's all rainbows and cupcakes.
That damn redhead who pulled her shower curtain open to make her sing her 'lady jam,' indicating something about how 'it really builds' (Beca can't brush off that flirty wink, it still gives her that weird sensation in her stomach).
Going back to her point, she hates physical affection, especially those being shown publicly.
Oh, did she forget to mention that she dislikes and doesn't believe in the concept of love and soulmates too?
Because she does, strongly .
Who the fuck believes in those, anyway? It's nothing but a concept, and it's impossible to find in real life because, guess what? Life isn't a movie, and not every story has a happy ending.
So she stood by her philosophy of unbelief.
Until she met Chloe.
Chloe is an open person. She's highly expressive of what she feels and thinks; she loves everyone genuinely; she does everything in her willpower to make other people happy; she's passionate and enthusiastic in almost everything: a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day, if you may. She strongly believes in the concept of soulmates, that each person has someone out there created just for them, and fate will do the rest. She breathes love, too. She's the opposite of the brunette, which is why Beca's surprised by how they became 'fast friends,' just as the redhead said so during her first year's Hood Night.
What shocked her, even more, was how she got the privilege and the blessing to call Chloe hers. She's the best thing that's ever happened to her, cheesy but true.
She remembers how everything began.
Beca stirs lightly from her sleep as she feels Chloe attempt to untangle herself from the brunette quietly. Beca is instantly cold, from the duvet being lifted momentarily or from the loss of contact with the redhead, she doesn't know.
"It's Saturday." She mumbles softly, opening an eye to look at the redhead sitting on the edge of the bed, tying her fiery mane into a messy bun with her back on the brunette. What Chloe is up to at such an ungodly hour? Beca doesn't know.
"It's Saturday, Bec, and it's your birthday." The redhead whispers as she lazily stands from the bed, striding to the kitchen to make Beca's favorite toast and prepare a freshly brewed coffee.
Chloe plugs the toaster and reaches up to open the cabinet on top of the sink, taking the fresh loaf of bread she bought from Beca's favorite bakery two blocks away from their apartment. She spreads Beca's favorite milk butter on it, then places it inside the toaster, pulling the knob down.
She then plugs the coffee maker and puts water into the reservoir. She puts a removable filter on the basket, pours black coffee ground into it, and then places the decanter on top of the warming plate. She takes out a mug with miniature rainclouds all over it, complimenting her mug (designed with miniature sunshine) that she designed in celebration of Beca's first album release from the dishwasher. She turns on the coffee maker and then plops herself on one of the stools near the countertop, back slightly hunched as she rubs her eyes sleepily, blowing the hair falling off her bun to frame her face.
Beca's been watching all this time, and the brunette's certain she had never been more in love.
Maybe it's out of the sudden rush of emotions that she felt when she realized how much she loved her best friend that gave her the courage to speak out about what she had wanted to say for years.
"Have I told you that you're beautiful?"
Well, that , amongst other things.
She thanks the gods that Amy isn't home because she's confident that the Bellas' group chat will blow and she'll be mercilessly teased for being such a softie for Chloe and that she didn't say those three little words that have been taking residence in her mind for a long time now.
Chloe turns her head in the brunette's direction, slight shock evident in her facial expression. The sun is shining brightly, its rays gracing the redhead's features. Her hair is glowing, her freckles are even more visible, and her eyes are impossibly bluer. She blinks twice before furrowing her brows slightly.
"I think you have?" She answers hesitantly.
"I feel like I haven't told you enough. So yeah, you're beautiful. I thought you should know that." She sheepishly responds, hiding the lower half of her face under the duvet to cover the fact that she's blushing.
It turns out Chloe is too. She tucks a strand of her mane behind her ear, looking down shyly. "I'm not. I look like a piece of shit, especially during mornings." She responds, following it with a self-deprecating laugh, and Beca can tell that this is something more than what the redhead lets on, and the brunette isn't having any of it.
"Have you seen yourself?" Beca asks incredulously, sitting up on their shared fold-out bed.
"Chlo, you're honestly the most beautiful person I've seen, ever. Especially during the mornings. You look so beautiful without even being aware that you are, making you even more beautiful. Don't you dare say that you aren't because everyone knows damn well that you are. And I'm not just talking about your physical attributes because you're so wonderful inside too." She scrunches her nose up.
"Well, that sounded wrong. I mean, not literally inside you because I haven't been inside you, and I — shit, I'm not planning to go inside you or something —"
"Beca."
"— Well, shit, those came out wrongly. You're beautiful internally, like not your organs and stuff —"
"Bec."
She is too busy rambling to notice Chloe trying to suppress her laughter. The redhead shakes her head with a smile and stands up from where she is situated. She makes a beeline to the bed.
"— I mean, your organs are beautiful, I'm sure they are, and that sounds weird, but —" Her hands are flailing around at this point.
"— yeah, you're beautiful. I fucking write and produce songs for a living, but I can't even use appropriate words." She whispers the last bits to herself, and Chloe wants to melt because the brunette looks adorable with her arms crossed, brows furrowed, and lips jutted into a small pout.
"— I'm so dumb, I'm sorry. We can forget —"Chloe leans forward to plant a lingering kiss on her lips, the brunette's rambling effectively cut off. The ginger pulls away merely by an inch to gauge her reaction.
The brunette's eyes are wide open, her mouth slightly agape, and Chloe feels panic bubble up inside her.
"Oh my god, I'm sorry. That was stupid of me to do. I misread the situation." She begins to pull away to stand up from the bed and starts rambling her apologies when Beca takes her hand and tugs her down to kiss her again, this time longer, with more passion, with promises.
Beca tugs on Chloe's waist, causing her to fall on the brunette's lap with a squeak, their kiss momentarily breaking. They pull away to catch their respective breaths, smiles on their faces.
"Is it bad that I want to kiss you again?" Beca mumbles against her lips. The redhead responds by nuzzling their noses; then, she closes the gap between them again. She pulls away after a few seconds to shake her head.
"I want to kiss you again and again, too. Is that okay?" The ginger asks almost sheepishly, eliciting a soft chuckle from the petite brunette.
"More than okay." She responds, her thumb running circles on the skin just above the waistband of Chloe's shorts, her oversized band tee ridden up along the process.
"But before that," she plants a chaste kiss on the redhead's lips, "I want to take you out first."
The ginger squeals in delight, peppering the brunette's face with kisses. "I'd love that."
Beca quirks a brow, "7 pm tomorrow?"
The redhead wraps her arms around the brunette's neck, her hands gently playing with the hair on the petite woman's nape. She nods in affirmation.
"7 pm tomorrow."
Chloe lights up visibly when she adds her next statement.
"Happy Birthday, Bec." She mumbles. She moves to get off the brunette's lap but is stopped when Beca holds her waist, not too tightly, but enough for her to stop whatever she's planning to do.
"What're you doing?" She asks confusedly, brows furrowed.
"Getting your present." The redhead responds.
"You already gave it to me." She quips, giving Chloe her favorite teeth-baring smile.
"I didn't." The ginger replies, her brows furrowing.
Beca laughs before placing a short but sweet kiss on the redhead's lips. "You're such an idiot at times. Don't make me say it." She says lightly.
"Say what, Bec?" The redhead responds cluelessly, and Beca wants to melt because she looks adorable.
"That you're my present." The brunette buries her face in her palms, and her ears grow redder as Chloe's laughter fills the room.
"Bec, that's so cute. Please don't be embarrassed. I wonder what the Bellas might think if they hear you say those things." She adds teasingly.
"Shush. I hate you." The brunette responds, burying her face in the redhead's neck, inhaling her familiar vanilla scent.
"Nah, you love me."
"That I do." Beca responds, visibly tensing. Chloe kisses her temple and feels the brunette's massive exhale on her neck.
"I love you too, you dork." She feels more than sees the smile on the brunette's lips, followed by a soft kiss on her collarbone.
And the rest is history.
Reminiscing how it all began still never fails to make butterflies churn in her stomach, albeit pleasantly. Everything the redhead does or says makes her feel things she's never felt before.
Chloe Beale is the best thing that ever happened to her; she'd do anything and everything to keep whatever they have. For the record, she'd done countless things "in the name of love," as Amy would coin it.
She dropped her habit of smoking cigarettes for Chloe. She started to hang out with her parents (more like her dad and her stepmom, but she considers Sheila as a part of their family already) every Sunday for their "Mitchell Family Game Night" (as Mr. Warren would say) because of Chloe. Her badass demeanor started to chip off, and she always found herself doing what Freshman Beca™️ thought she'd never do: socialize with people and go out of her comfort zone to make them happy, especially Chloe. She has also grown a little accustomed to the redhead holding her hand, kissing her cheeks, lips, temple, and crown, placing a hand on her knee, hugging her, wrapping an arm or both of the ginger's arms around her waist, and neck kisses here and there in public.
So, in conclusion, she has improved a lot as a person ever since Chloe became a part of her narrative.
And she did.
However, being here with the redhead in their favorite spot (the secluded corner with dimmed lights), sipping their respective coffees as they sat in front of each other with Chloe's right hand on hers on top of the table, with a pair sat on a booth near their table eyeing them disgustedly, made her think if she did.
Her hands feel clammy, she's abnormally sweating through her shirt, she can feel herself shaking, and she can hear the violent thump of her heartbeat on her chest. She swallows nervously as she untangles her hand from the redhead's and wipes her palms on her high-waisted jeans. Chloe's gaze lifts from her laptop to a fidgety and sweaty Beca, confusion swimming in it.
"Is everything alright, love?" The ginger asks worriedly, searching the brunette's face for answers.
Beca fixes her gaze on the napkins she's currently fiddling with, inhaling deeply.
"Yeah." She croaks out, clearing her throat uncomfortably.
"Bec, baby." The older woman says softly, her voice laced with patience. The brunette looks back up, and dark blue orbs meet ocean ones. The redhead's eyes are filled with understanding, and Beca feels like she can breathe again. She feels grounded and safe and gives her girlfriend a small smile. The producer exhales visibly as her gaze drifts back down to the torn napkins she put on the table, instead opting to play with the chips of her black nail polish.
"Okay, uh, right." She starts lamely, heaving out a deep and audible breath. Chloe reaches out to stop her from wringing with her fingers and squeezes it not too tightly, but enough to assure Beca that she's there, that she's not going anywhere. Her smile is kind and patient, and the brunette's certain she had never been more in love with the woman.
Chloe Beale is a loving, patient, compassionate, emphatic, attentive, and caring girlfriend; suffice to say, she's everything you're looking for in a woman, at least in Beca's opinion. She knows the brunette like the back of her hand and loves to focus on the smallest things and details about her. She knows when the brunette needs her space, her cuddle fix, and whenever she's having a bad day. She knows her favorite pieces of vinyl, the place she goes to whenever she feels upset, her favorite eyeliner brand, her pet peeves, her allergies, and a lot more.
To sum it up, she knows everything about Beca, and the brunette has no regrets about letting this woman break down her walls.
"Baby?"
The producer blinks three times, seeming to be snapped out of her reverie.
The ginger chuckles softly and eyes the brunette amusedly. "You spaced out. A penny for your thoughts?"
"Uh, yeah. Can you, um, give me a minute to, you know, gather them?" She asks sheepishly, earning a giggle from her girlfriend.
"Take all the time you need."
Chloe retracts her hand to give Beca her much-needed space so she can think. She looks at the brunette intently, scanning her features. Her brows are adorably furrowed, a small pout on her lips as she thinks hard. It takes every ounce of the ginger's self-control not to lean over and kiss that pout away and instead smiles at how adorable she's being.
A minute had passed. Beca clears her throat and nibbles on her lower lip before letting it go.
"I am not the most affectionate and expressive person in the world." She begins, taking a deep breath. "You know how awful my childhood was. How messed up my family was, and I never really believed in true love because I witnessed my mother and father's marriage fail despite their vows and promises." Her eyes feel watery, and she hates herself for being so emotional. She's Beca Mitchell, for fuck's sake. She doesn't do emotions. Chloe nods at her encouragingly, choosing not to initiate physical contact with her, at least not yet.
"I shut everyone out and didn't talk to anyone then. I didn't have any friends to tell my problems to, and my mom was always drunk, crying about my dad, harming herself by not eating and sleeping." She swallows down the lump in her throat, and Chloe leans over the table to plant a soft kiss on her temple.
"You're doing good, baby. Take your time. I'm here, alright?" She whispers, and the brunette nods gratefully. She sits back down and reaches out to hold both of the producer's hands, squeezing them for assurance, sensing her girlfriend's need for something to make her grounded physically. Beca breathes in and out deeply and resumes her story.
"I was furious. I used to hear stories about how good love should feel. People gushed about meeting your soulmate and knowing instantly that they are it for you. I didn't believe in love and soulmates. For the rest of my years before Barden, I resented couples, their public display of affection, and how they get all mushy and sappy with one another." She pauses and musters a small smile, looking at her girlfriend affectionately.
"Until I met you."
The redhead smiles softly, eyes beginning to tear up. She runs the pad of her thumbs on the producer's knuckles.
"When you barged into my shower that day and sang with me? I knew you were it. I thought I would never have a chance with you because you're Chloe fucking Beale, but when my birthday came around, and we were in our Brooklyn apartment? I never thought that you reciprocated the feeling."
Her small smile shifts into a sad one.
"Cynthia Rose used to tell me about how prevalent and strong the discrimination against LGBTQ+ was, is . I was terrified because what if they don't accept us for who we are? What if they're against us being with each other?" She breathes in and out shakily, her grip on the ginger's hands tightening a little.
"Over time, I managed to overcome that fear, but it keeps coming back, Chlo. The way they scrutinize us, hate, and judgment in their gazes, it's eating me alive and crawls under my skin." She whispers brokenly as she looks down, lips quivering, tears threatening to spill. The redhead slides out of her side of the booth and sits beside the producer, angling her body to face her.
"Becs, baby." She whispers brokenly, cradling her girlfriend's cheeks, wiping the tears with the pad of her thumbs. Chloe's eyes are shining with tears too, but she wants to stay strong for Beca. She has to stay strong for Beca.
"Baby, look at me." She says softly. Sad and watery dark blue orbs snap up to meet hers.
"I know how hard it is, dealing with these people. They don't understand our love. I used to feel that way after coming out to my parents. They accepted me for who I am and supported me throughout, but some of my schoolmates and neighbors didn't. It was difficult, but do you want to know what my mom told me?" She asks softly, thumbs continuing to wipe the tears falling down the brunette's cheeks. Beca nods slightly in response.
"She told me I shouldn't focus on what they say or think about me. She told me that not everyone is like that, and good people still accept us and love us for who we are. Eventually, we will find a person who'll love us with all they have, the person we can share this journey with, and I found mine, Becs."
Upon hearing her words, more tears fell down the producer's cheeks.
"I have you, and you have me. This journey will be bumpy and long, but we have each other and our friends and family to support us, and there are people out there who are fighting for us and with us, baby. We aren't alone in this, and you aren't alone. Life is unpredictable, and not everything is under our control, but as long as we're with the right people? We can handle anything." She finishes with a tear rolling down her cheek. She places a kiss on the crown of the brunette's head and hears Beca sigh softly. When she pulls back after kissing her head, Beca's looking at her with a small smile, eyes red and puffy from crying, but love and affection swim in it.
"I love you, Chlo. You're the best thing that ever happened to me." The brunette whispers.
"I love you, too." She responds, smiling.
Chloe begins to back away to avoid making Beca feel uncomfortable from the looks given to them. To her shock, the brunette grabs her by the back of her neck and pulls to fuse their lips.
Their kiss is filled with promises and assurances, like their first kiss and every other kiss they shared—promises and assurances consisting of being on this journey together and being there for one another.
After needing oxygen in their systems, they pull away, but merely by an inch, breaths ghosting each other's faces. Their eyes flutter open, and they stare at each other, catching their breaths.
Beca and Chloe know that it will be a long journey, and they won't be able to see and know what the future holds for them. They both know that this fear will still come back to haunt them from time to time, but they also know one thing: they have each other and always will, and that alone is enough.