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Falling asleep has always been a bit of a crapshoot for Beca.
There’s never been a rhyme or reason to it, or at least not one she’s been able to discern. All she knows is some nights her mind is quiet and she’s able to drift off, while other nights… not so much.
Tonight is one of the latter. And that’s how she winds up kneeling on the countertop in the dark kitchen of the Bellas house, blindly searching the cabinets for some of Chloe’s gross lavender chamomile tea.
(Yeah, she’s that desperate.)
“Becs! You’re gonna hurt yourself.”
Beca startles, only saving herself from falling off the counter by grabbing onto the cabinet door.
“Jesus Christ,” she breathes, heart hammering in her chest. She turns to glare down at Chloe, who’s moved to stand beside her. “I was doing just fine until you scared the crap out of me.”
“I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to be up there like that and I got scared.” Chloe places her hand on the back of Beca’s ankle, as if to steady her. “What… are you doing up there like that?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Came down to find that vile yellow tea of yours that is supposed to make you tired.”
“Oh.” Chloe slips her hand through the small space between Beca’s stomach and the cabinet. An instant later she withdraws it, holding a box of tea in her grasp. “Found it!”
Beca sighs and carefully lowers herself back onto the floor. Chloe’s smiling at her, and even in the darkness it’s enough to make her cheeks heat up. She takes the box of tea and places it on the counter.
“What are you doing up, anyway? Isn’t it late?”
Chloe nods. “Almost 3. I was still studying for my anthro exam when I heard the floorboards creak, and I knew it’d be my little insomniac.”
Beca huffs and rolls her eyes, praying that Chloe can’t make out the blush that’s coloring her cheeks.
“Want me to put the kettle on?” Chloe asks.
“Nah, it’s okay. It’s probably a lost cause at this point -- the whole sleeping thing.”
Chloe gets a twinkle in her eye -- the kind that always makes Beca a little bit nervous (and a little bit excited) -- and takes her hand.
“Come on,” she says, pulling Beca toward the front door. She stops in front of the overloaded coat rack and the messy pile of shoes that sits beside it. “I have an idea.”
***
This idea turns out to involve going on a late night walk around campus in their pajamas.
Chloe grandly labels it an “adventure,” and Beca laughs and tells her she should consider changing her major to advertising.
Despite her teasing, Beca is actually kind of excited. As they get farther from the house, she realizes that there’s something magical about walking through an empty campus in the dead of night with the girl who gives her butterflies.
If Chloe has a destination in mind, she doesn’t share with the class. And yes, Beca usually doesn’t do well with this kind of ambiguity, but tonight she’s happy to follow Chloe anywhere.
(She’s happy to do that in general, she thinks.)
(How terrifying.)
Chloe leads her down the path between the freshman dorms, past the library, and through the center of the quad. It’s after 3 a.m. on a Tuesday night, so aside from a solitary security guard they don’t see another soul.
They’re well past campus housing at this point but they keep their voices low, and something about that makes this night feel special, too. It’s like they’re doing something they shouldn’t, or like they’re showing reverence for the dark.
When they walk past the brick wall that surrounds the campus, Beca starts to wonder how far Chloe plans on taking them. She has her answer two blocks later, when she spots the glowing neon sign above a 7/11.
They buy slurpees because “it just feels right,” according to Chloe, and Beca can’t disagree. Then they’re back in the crisp night air, and when Chloe has them take a left Beca knows where they’re headed.
***
There’s a river that cuts the city in two.
It’s a popular spot to visit during warm months, because you can rent canoes and paddle boards to take out on the water. It’s too cold for that, now, but as soon as the river comes into view Beca’s struck by how beautiful it is, glistening in the moonlight.
A lonely car drives past them as they stop to throw out their empty 7/11 cups. Before continuing on Chloe turns to Beca, biting the corner of her lip.
“Wanna walk across the bridge?” she asks.
Beca presses her lips together to try to hold back her smile. It’s just so sweet of Chloe to ask, considering Beca knows this is exactly why they’ve come.
“Yeah. I’m down.”
***
They’re about a quarter of the way across when Chloe takes Beca’s hand.
She glances over at her as she does it, likely checking that it’s okay, and that makes Beca’s heart race almost as much as the hand-holding. No one’s ever cared about her the way that Chloe does; no one’s ever been so attuned to her needs or her comfort before. Not like this.
Beca doesn’t know what to do with all that care sometimes. But tonight she just smiles and gives Chloe’s hand a quick squeeze, delighting in the grin that lights up her face.
***
They stop smack-dab in the middle of the bridge.
Chloe drops her hand and turns to lean over the railing. It’s high enough that there’s no risk of her falling over, but it makes Beca nervous just the same.
If Chloe’s scared, she doesn’t show it. She looks straight down, motioning for Beca to do the same. The steel is cold where it presses against Beca’s chest as she angles her body to gaze into the water below.
At first she doesn’t know what they’re supposed to glean from this exercise. All she can make out are the dark ripple of waves and a few faint outlines of rocks, jutting out above the surface.
It’s like Chloe can tell Beca’s confused, because she covers Beca’s hand and waits for her to meet her eyes.
Chloe’s face is so close -- much closer than Beca expected it to be -- and in the safety of the darkness she lets her gaze fall to her mouth. Chloe runs her tongue across her lips, and Beca forgets how to breathe.
It’s like they’re the only two people in the world, standing here in the middle of a nondescript bridge, and it feels like anything could happen.
Then Chloe’s lips start moving and, somehow, Beca tunes back in.
“Not at the water,” she’s saying. “The reflection.”
Beca swallows thickly and looks back down at the water, hyper aware of the fact that Chloe’s eyes are still trained on her. It takes her a minute to remember what she’s supposed to do, but when she does she finally sees it.
The moon, and stars, and the whole watery night sky is there, shining up at her.
“Wow,” she whispers, taking it in. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah,” Chloe says, even though she’s still looking at her. “It is.”
And that’s when Beca’s body decides it’s a good time to yawn.
She tries to suppress it, tries to hide it behind her hand, but Chloe sees. She’s too close not to.
“Sleepy?” she asks, scratching gently at the nape of Beca’s neck.
And, truthfully, Beca is. She has been for a little while now. But she hasn’t wanted to say anything.
So she just shrugs. “I just don’t want tonight to end.”
Chloe smiles, pouting a little bit like she does when she sees something cute. She turns to face Beca fully and Beca mirrors her movement until they’re standing toe to toe. Chloe reaches for both of her hands.
“It’s just one night, Bec. There’ll be others.”
Beca looks down at their joined hands and, in the kind of bravery that can only happen in the minutes before 4 a.m., she laces their fingers together.
“Not like this,” she says softly.
Chloe uses her hold on Beca to pull her closer.
“Why not?”
Beca gets that feeling again -- like anything could happen.
She lets her eyes flutter closed and sways on her feet for a few breathless seconds before she catches on; before she realizes that Chloe is waiting.
(Of course Chloe is waiting.)
(Waiting for her.)
It feels like anything could happen.
And sometimes, Beca’s discovering, you have to make it happen.
So she does.
She presses forward, hair fluttering around her in the darkness, until she feels the softness of Chloe’s cheek beneath her nose, the heat of her breath skating across her mouth. Chloe gasps quietly, and Beca lifts her chin, chasing the sound with her lips.
They stand there kissing in the moonlight, in the dead of night, in the middle of a nondescript bridge until they have to break apart to breathe.
“Wow,” Chloe says, resting her forehead against Beca’s.
“Yeah.” Beca loops her arms around Chloe’s waist, needing to get closer. “Wow.”
Chloe’s lips graze the shell of her ear. “Still sleepy?”
Beca can’t help but laugh. “Nope,” she says. “Not anymore.”
***
They make it home just before sunrise.
They fall asleep, swiftly, in Chloe’s bed, tangled up together with their coats still on.