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By the time Chloe got home from the campus coffee shop, the soles of her feet felt like they had been replaced with two blocks of concrete. It had been one of those shifts. The kind of shift where the espresso machine hisses at you for the entire afternoon and then a customer sends back a perfectly good latte because “there wasn’t enough foam” and then somehow you manage to spill half a cup of iced coffee down the front of your apron ten minutes before closing.
Yep, one of those.
After that, all Chloe wanted now was a shower, pajamas and approximately twelve hours of deep, deep sleep. She pushed open the front door of the Bellas house with her hip, letting it swing shut behind her.
“I'm home,” she called and there was no answer, which was a touch unusual. The house was strangely quiet for a Saturday night. Most of the girls were out but Chloe could hear the faint murmur of the television somewhere downstairs.
She kicked off her shoes.
“Beca?”
Nothing.
Chloe smiled faintly to herself because of course, Beca was probably locked in her room with her headphones on, making some impossible little remix that no one else would’ve ever even thought about or that only she could hear properly. She had developed a habit of disappearing into her music whenever…well…on most days, actually.
So Chloe headed upstairs. She was halfway down the hallway to her bedroom when she noticed the black converse parked right outside her bedroom door. She stopped and looked at the shoes, then at Beca and Amy’s closed bedroom door several feet away.
Her eyebrows lifted. “Seriously?”
She nudged one of them with her toe and spotted a cute little music note drawing on the sole—added, against Beca’s will, by Stacie two months ago—confirming that they were in fact Beca's shoes.
Chloe picked them up and assumed it meant Beca was either in her room or had somehow forgotten about her shoes. Knowing Beca, Chloe wouldn't put either past her.
She opened the door. “Bec, are you—” The words died in her throat because Beca was in her bed.
She wasn’t sitting on it or rummaging through her drawers. She wasn’t wearing one of Chloe's sweaters and pretending she hadn't just stolen it. She was in her bed, curled into the far corner with her knees drawn toward her chest, almost entirely swallowed beneath Chloe's favorite blanket. Her dark, wavy hair was messy, her face half-buried against the pillow, and her shoulders were trembling.
Chloe's heart dropped. “Oh,” she whispered.
Beca shifted at the sound of her voice. For a second, she seemed to have considered pretending she was asleep. It might have worked if Chloe hadn't already seen the tear tracks shining on her cheeks.
Chloe closed the door quietly behind herself and tiptoed toward the bed.
“Why're you in my bed?”
Beca's voice came muffled from somewhere inside the blanket, which she seemed to be attempting (and failing) to hide in. “It's comfier.”
Chloe blinked and stared at her. “Since when?”
“Since today.”
There was something so painfully ridiculous about the answer that Chloe almost laughed. Instead, she sat carefully on the edge of the mattress. “Bec—”
“Don't.” The word came out small but she didn’t seem irritated. Just tired—no, exhausted.
Chloe's expression softened. She didn't ask again or make a joke. She simply looked at the girl curled up in her bed and waited as the silence stretched.
Finally, Beca sighed. “I was having such a shit day.”
Chloe nodded and hummed attentively.
“And then—” Beca's voice caught. She swallowed. “And then I got an email.”
Chloe's fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the blanket. “From?”
“The internship.” Oh.
The one Beca had been talking about for weeks—the one she'd insisted she didn't really care that much about while simultaneously checking her email approximately every six minutes.
“The one you wanted for next semester?”
Beca nodded. “They waitlisted me.”
“Oh, Beca.”
“I know it's not technically a rejection, and they said there's still a chance. And it's probably not even a big deal.”
Chloe looked at her. Beca gave a miserable little shrug.
“It just feels like—just really sucks, you know?”
“Yeah,” Chloe said softly. “Sometimes it does.”
That was all it took. Beca's face crumpled. She pulled the blanket higher, as though she could continue her sad attempts to hide inside it.
“I just—” Her voice broke. “Everything has been so fucking hard lately.”
Chloe moved closer. Beca wiped quickly at her cheek. “I don't want to talk about it.”
“Okay,” Chloe whispered.
“I don't want you to tell me it'll be fine.”
“I won't.”
“And I don't want you to tell me there's another internship.”
“I definitely won't.”
“Or that it's their loss.”
Chloe considered it for a split second. “I wasn't going to.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Maybe a little.”
Despite herself, Beca let out a tiny laugh. It was small and broken, but it was a laugh.
Chloe smiled and reached over to lift the blanket. “Come here.”
Beca looked at her. For one heartbeat, neither of them moved. Then Beca crawled toward her, tucking herself against Chloe's side with a sort of exhausted surrender that made Chloe's chest ache. Chloe wrapped both arms around her, pulling her close until Beca's forehead rested just beneath her chin.
“There,” Chloe whispered.
Beca breathed in shakily. Chloe could feel the tension still caught beneath her shoulders and began rubbing slow circles between Beca's shoulder blades.
“You're okay,” she murmured.
Beca sniffed. “I'm not.”
“Okay.”
“You're supposed to disagree.”
“I don't think you want me to lie to you.”
“No.”
“But you're here.” Beca was quiet. “And I'm here with you,” Chloe continued, “so you don't have to be okay right now. It’s not required, Beca.”
Something in Beca seemed to loosen as her fingers curled into the fabric of Chloe's shirt.
“I hate this,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“I hate feeling like this.”
“I know.”
“I hate that I care.”
Chloe pressed her cheek against Beca's hair. “I’ve got you.”
Beca's eyes closed. For several minutes, neither of them spoke.
The house around them seemed impossibly distant. Somewhere downstairs, a television audience laughed quietly. A car passed outside, headlights briefly slipping through the blinds, painting pale stripes across the bedroom wall. Chloe’s fingertips traced lazy circles over Beca's back. Every so often, without really thinking about it, she scratched lightly between her shoulder blades.
Then, almost unconsciously, she began drawing little hearts. One, then another. Then another.
Beca’s breathing had finally started to even out and she could feel Chloe's heartbeat beneath her cheek. Chloe smelled like sweet mint and vanilla. It was subtle, probably her shampoo or something. Something clean and soft that Beca had noticed a hundred times before without ever really thinking about it. But now, pressed this close, it was everywhere.
Beca breathed it all in—minty vanilla, warm skin, clean sheets. Chloe. It smelled so safe. The thought came so easily that it scared her a little. Chloe's hand moved up into her hair.
“You know you can come to me whenever, right?”
Beca's throat tightened. “I know.”
“Then why didn't you?”
Beca opened her eyes and lifted her head. Chloe was looking down at her with her light blue eyes, which were soft and impossibly close.
Beca swallowed. “I did.”
Chloe's eyebrows pulled together slightly. “Hmm?”
Beca looked at her mouth, then back at her eyes. “I’m in your bed because I wanted you.”
Neither of them moved. The room suddenly seemed very quiet. Beca's hand slid slowly up Chloe's arm, her fingers stopping at her shoulder.
Chloe's breath caught as Beca leaned forward. It wasn't really a kiss, not yet at least. Her lips merely brushed against Chloe's in a tiny, trembling touch that lasted barely a second. Chloe's eyes fluttered shut and her breath hitched again.
Beca pulled back just enough to look at her. “This is probably a bad idea.”
“Probably.”
Beca's mouth twitched. Chloe's thumb brushed gently beneath her eye, catching the last dampness from her cheek. Beca's eyes dropped to her lips again. “Kiss me.”
So Chloe did, and this time there was no question.
The kiss was soft, almost unbearably soft. Beca's hand curled into the back of Chloe's shirt as she cupped her cheek. Their noses bumped awkwardly, and Chloe laughed quietly against her mouth.
“Sorry,” Beca whispered.
“Don't be.”
They kissed again. And again. And again. The third one lingered and Beca felt Chloe smiling against her lips, warmth unfurling beneath her ribs. Chloe's thumb swept across her cheek once more, brushing away a stubborn tear she hadn't realized was still there.
Beca caught Chloe's wrist and held it, turning her face to kiss her palm. Chloe stared at her and let out a breathy laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Chloe murmured. “I just like you.”
Beca went very still. Chloe's smile softened. “Too much?”
Beca shook her head. “No.”
She leaned in again and this time, she was the one who kissed Chloe first. Chloe's fingers disappeared into her hair as she deepened the kiss. Beca's hands slid around Chloe's waist, pulling her closer until there wasn't much space left between them at all.
The sadness hadn't disappeared. The internship was still waitlisted. The awful day had still happened. But for the first time since she had opened that email, Beca wasn't thinking about any of it. She was thinking about Chloe and the little hearts her fingers had drawn against her back and how she held her like she wasn't something that needed fixing.
Beca let out a quiet, shaky sound when Chloe kissed her again, and Chloe immediately slowed.
“Okay?”
Beca nodded. “Yeah.”
“Sure?”
“Chloe.”
“Yeah?”
“Kiss me.”
The clock on Chloe's nightstand ticked quietly through the evening. Eventually, Chloe's favorite blanket slipped halfway onto the floor. A discarded T-shirt landed beside it. And sometime much later, the room went quiet.
Morning came softly, sunlight slipping through the blinds in thin golden lines. When Beca stirred, she didn't know where she was for a moment. Then she felt the mattress beneath her, the warmth beside her and a familiar arm draped loosely around her waist.
She opened her eyes. Chloe was still asleep, her hair spilled messily across the pillow, lips slightly parted. The sheets were a tangled mess around them. Beca stared and something warm settled in her chest.
She remembered yesterday—the email, the tears and how she’d walked into Chloe's room without really knowing why. And then there was Chloe. You don't have to be okay right now.
Beca's eyes closed again. She shifted closer, carefully tucking herself against Chloe's warmth. Chloe made a sleepy little noise and tightened her arm around her without waking.
Beca smiled because she couldn't remember the last time she'd slept this deeply.
She breathed in the faint scent of mint and vanilla still clinging to Chloe's pillow. And for once, Beca didn't feel like she needed to run from anything.
She hadn't slept this well in years.