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    Summary

    Chloe Beale sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She had been staring at it for eleven minutes, not that she was counting. Beside her, the lamp cast a warm pool of light over her rumpled sheets. A textbook had been abandoned somewhere near her pillow hours ago, open to the same page she'd been pretending to read for the better part of an hour. She wasn't thinking about school. She wasn't thinking about finals. She wasn't even thinking about the World Championship.

    Well, okay…she was thinking about the World Championship. She was always thinking about the World Championship as of lately.

    Every rehearsal had become a reminder of their future, every note feeling like it matters more than the last. Every time Beca suggested a new arrangement, Chloe could practically hear the imaginary clock ticking down toward the moment when they would either prove themselves or become a cautionary tale. And Beca was almost worse.

    some angst (kinda if u squint) and make-up sex because shit happens y'all.

    bechloe week day four prompt: "i can’t keep this conversation going until you put on a shirt.”/pants lol

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    2,969
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
    5
    Kudos:
    46
    Bookmarks:
    4
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