Work Text:
Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect.
Lucky for them.
•••
It wasn't a night like any other.
Chloe knew the second the front door clicked shut behind her.
She breathed in the scent of the evening, her hand still resting on the unfamiliar doorknob.
Her eyes wandered over the front yard. She tried not to wonder who mowed the lawn this perfectly before her arrival.
Nobody ever seemed to know that when she asked. She had stopped asking such questions after the fifth or sixth move.
Her mother was someone of importance. Chloe didn't know in what field or how important she really was, but she knew that it meant moving. Often. Sometimes so spontaneous and sudden, that her mom woke her up in the depth of the night, handing her a packed bag and maneuvering her into the car before she even got to pick the sand out of the corners of her eyes.
But Chloe wasn't the type of daughter that complained.
She kept to herself, always kept a little distance between herself and her aquintances, never growing too close to anyone.
She also had picked up the habit of running.
She ran every evening, watching the people live in their well-known surroundings, sometimes daring to imagine a life like that for herself.
But she mostly just kept her eyes on the sky. She once read that the sky changes its colour every second and she's tried to prove it since, yet always got lost in the beauty of the different layers. She loves to stare at the horizon, wandering upwards with her eyes and enjoying every new shade of colour she can find.
So she never managed to stare at one little piece of sky, watching the strong blue turn into a softer one, gaining more grey, then yellow, and then the various shades of the upcoming night.
But that day, the evening of her fifteen-ishth move, the sky was blue when it should have been purple.
It was the blue of her mothers eyes, the blue of a tranquil, charging sea that waits for night to come so it could swallow you whole.
A promising, yet also threatening blue.
She felt the way she did when she opened a thriller book, started a horror movie, entered a roller coaster.
She felt like something was going to happen.
Open girl that Chloe Beale was, she decided to go along.
So she plugged her headphones into her phone, put the pink little plugs into her ears and played some upbeat, light music to accompany her running rythm.
Picking a slow and steady pace, Chloe ran down the street she now called home.
The pavement and the street itself were perfectly done. Every surface was straight, there were no bumps, no holes, even all the trees aside of the street were healthy, growing straight and strong into the sky.
After taking a few turns while generally heading south, she suddenly found herself at the peak of a hill, the city in her back, the sea in her face.
The blue has become a few shades darker, a few stars shone lazily above her head, the moon hidden behind a mountain that graced the ridiculously flawless scenery she found herself standing in.
She took a deep breath, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled.
Smelled the city, the people, the night and the sea.
Rough, deep black boulders were placed sporadically on the beach by mother nature's might.
The grass covering every area that was neither concrete nor sand nor sea looked incredibly green in the growing night's light.
A ridiculous green, she thought.
Like cheap plastic fake grass.
An almost poisonous green.
She was so caught up with finding words and descriptions for the colours she saw, that she didn't hear the small steps that crossed the stony path she stood on.
A while after the unheard steps stopped, a rather insecure yet remarkably pretty voice rose and ripped her out of her thoughts.
"I have never seen a girl taking in landscape with such an angry face."
Chloe jerked with surprise and turned around to the voice, feeling like she got caught with the hands in the metaphoric cookie jar.
The noises that left her mouth were intended to become a smart, cocky, maybe flirtatious comeback, yet only ended up a confused stumble whose syllables couldn't be untangled, even if one tried really hard.
The stranger gave her a smirk you'd usually see on TV, in cheap teen dramas, worn by the good-looking rebel guy who hid under the bleachers to smoke light cigarettes. The type that turns out to be really nice and soft as he gets to date the protagonist somewhere along the end of a season.
The kind of smile that indicates a good heart and insecurity, hidden by rude sarcasm and thick eyeliner.
"You're staring", the mouth said.
Only then Chloe realized that it must have been a whole minute since she tried to reply.
"Sorry.", Chloe said, regaining her posture, "I.. It was a long day.
I'm Chloe. Chloe Beale.", she said, giving her most popular smile and extending her hand.
The stranger took her hand, gave it a light squeeze- the perfect amount of pressure, Chloe noted- and smiled back: "Beca Mitchell."
Chloe nodded in acknowledgement. "A pleasure to meet you."
"A pleasure to meet you, too."
It was like their mouths were exchanging the beginning of small talk, while their eyes conversed about the depths of existence, the universe as a whole and love itself.
There was a certain disconnection between the things their mouths said and the things their eyes said.
"what are you doing here at this late hour on Barden Hill?", Beca asked, that certain kind of cockiness around her mouth, a hint of desperation, nervousness and the bold glow of someone who is overcoming a fear glistening in her eyes.
"I moved here today and wanted to get to know the neighborhood."
There were so many things Beca could have replied. She saw them bubbling up in her eyes. Smart remarks, tips, hints, but Beca swallowed them, just smiled a little and said "it's a pretty place", turning to face the scenery in front of them.
Chloe nodded. A content silence fell over them.
Her eyes found the sky again.
The blue was weird today. Like it wrapped itself around everything instead of staying in the background. Every edge was sharp yet blurry.
As time passed, the blue only got stronger.
"This is a special night, yunno.", Beca said.
"This is probably boring to everyone except me, but the sky is different. It doesn't change colors the way it usually does.
It just gets bluer each time I remember to look at it."
Chloe didn't reply. She just smiled at the other girl, taking in the view she got.
After a while, Beca turned her head lightly towards her, eyes staying fixed on the sky a little longer before flicking to her.
"You're staring again."
Again, Chloe jerked back into reality at that, smiled and said "yeah, I kinda tend to do that. Sorry."
Beca laughed a little. It was more like a snory, sniffing Kind of laugh that rushes through your nose.
"It's kinda cute", she said after a while of silent eye contact.
Chloe silently wondered if they were going to communicate without words one day.
"I think we're going to be fast friends.", she just replied.
Beca raised an eyebrow at her, yet didn't say a word.
•••
They stayed there for a while. Just talking, getting to know each other.
Time flew, yet didn't pass. Like some powerful source gave them more time to spend.
Only an hour had gone by when Chloe remembered to look up.
It was the deepest blue. A blue only the fish inhabiting the depth of the sea knew. Borderline dark violet. Yet not enough red to really call it something other than blue, Chloe noted.
"The Stars have come out.", she just said.
Beca, who was looking up as well, simply nodded.
The fact that Beca looked at the sky the way she did gave her chills. Goosebumps settled at her arms with no intention to leave.
•••
It must have been three, maybe four am. The blue already lost its depth and got softer around the edges. There was a little stripe of yellow forming on the horizon.
Without a word of explanation, Beca took Chloe's hand. Hooked her index finger around the tips of her index-, middle- and ring finger.
Chloe didn't hesitate, she just stood up and followed. Took in the swing of her shoulders when Beca walked. Remembered how she moved her legs, her hips, her arms.
She felt like this was no friendship to last. One of these social collisions that blow you off your legs and leave you crying for an official night or two, yet promise a lot more unofficial, secret tears shed into a quiet pillow.
Beca led her though an old part of the town. White houses, little hills, holes in the pavement, hardly enough space to walk side by side through the little streets between the houses.
Architecture of the fragil and old kind. Roofs with an angle that makes you want to sit on them and slide down.
Wooden carvings and ornaments on every surface that they'd look good on without being too much.
It was a joy for the eye.
A decent kind of beautiful.
Everything was black or blue. Becas skin was of a light grey, her lips a violet beyond description.
Chloe wondered what the girl would look like without lightning this exquisite.
They didn't speak. Beca just walked two steps ahead of her, taking in every piece of sight even though she rushed by so quickly.
Chloe would have loved to conquer the world with someone who could see the little wonders of aesthetics even in a well-known place like their hometown.
She kept following the black silhouette that Beca Mitchell was, willing herself to safe every bit of sight in a corner of her mind so she could replay it at will.
•••
It must have been five, maybe six when they stood by the beach, the rough, sharp edges of the black cliffs and boulders in the periphery of their vision, the mountain to their right, sea at their chests, the city in their backs and Becas hand in Chloe's, fingers intertwined.
The yellow had become more than a stripe and was now accompanied by a red as deep as the colours exploding on the inside of your eyelids when you kiss someone for the first time.
Red as the heat you feel lingering on your skin where a lover has touched you.
Chloe looked at Beca and waited until their eyes met.
She saw Beca scanning the colour of her eyes, followed her as she looked up, and locked their gazes again as Beca raised her voice:
"The tip of the sky, that little light ring you only get to see when you look straight up. That light stripe that's wrapped around the center blue
That's the blue of your eyes.
The colour as indescribable as its location on the sky above."
Chloe, usually the kind of girl that never stops talking, just blushed and looked down.
She had found herself comparing the dark blue of Becas eyes with the blue the sky had only a few hours ago.
Beca took her hand again
And leaned closer.
Little spots of red nervousness on her cheeks and neck.
The same red that grew around the horizon.
Chloe closed her eyes, embraced the red, squeezed Becas slightly sweaty hand reassuringly and leaned in.