heryellowcup
Anónimo asked:
They had always been there, those feelings between the two of them. No one ever denied it and yet no one talked about it either, not wanting to cross that line, not wanting to possibly risk everything. They didn’t know when it had started, perhaps at the activities fair, perhaps in the showers, perhaps later than that. If you asked Beca later she’d desribe the feeling as slowly creeping up on her, it being too late before she knew it and her being left unable to do anything about it. If you asked Chloe, however, she’d describe it as love at first sight, she’d describe it as this warm feeling that had engulfed her as soon as their eyes had locked for the first time.
And now it was lingering between them, just like the unspoken promise to never actually address it, to never think about what it actually meant. And yet Chloe liked to act on her attraction, while Beca didn’t admit it was there in the first place, not even to herself. As if everything was going to fall apart once she’d admit just how much she loved the redhead. As if she, herself, was going to break. And perhaps she was.
It were subtle things from Chloe’s side, little hints, soft touches. And Beca relished in them. Craved them, even. Chloe touching her arm every now and then, in a way that made her shiver. Chloe taking her hand when no one was looking, making the heat rise to Beca’s cheeks. Chloe hugging her tightly whenever she got home, whenever they passed an exam, whenever she was sad. Chloe holding her tightly, Chloe curling up in her arms when they shared a bed. Something they did more often than it appeared to be appropriate for two people who were just friends, for two people who weren’t going to cross the line. It had been prone to fail from the very beginning, but Beca had realized that too late. Had been too busy admiring the fact that while Chloe was affectionate with everyone, her hand would always linger a little longer on her arm. She’d always hug her a little tighter. It made her feel special.
But of course she wasn’t going to admit that, no. Instead she liked to pretend that she didn’t care, liked to pretend that it wasn’t affecting her. Chloe knew that Beca didn’t mean it when she rolled her eyes at her whenever she took her hand, knew that Beca didn’t mean it when she pushed her away whenever she tried to hug her, knew that Beca didn’t mean it when she told her that their whole sleeping situation was “weird”. It hurt, yes, but after all Beca would still entertwine their fingers, would still hug her back, would still wrap her arms around her and tightly hold onto Chloe all night. As if she knew that she was pushing her away, and that it was wrong, but at the same time not wanting to lose her either.
And while Beca was comfortable not crossing that line, was comfortable just being with Chloe in a way that wasn’t complicated, that wasn’t risky, that wasn’t going to hurt either of them, Chloe wasn’t. Chloe needed more, needed to talk, needed the passion that Beca was lacking.
Perhaps if the brunette had just been braver, it would have all worked out differently. Perhaps if Chloe had been more patient, it would have ended up working too. Except that they hadn’t done those things. Not in time, anyways. Too late, instead. Late enough for it to all blow up on them.
And then Chloe had started seeing Tom. Beca hated him with a passion. She hated Chloe, too. Wanted to, at least. Though Beca soon found that it was impossible to even so much as dislike the other girl. Not while she was doing something so entirely innocent as loving another human being. It wasn’t Chloe’s fault, no. She didn’t deserve to be hated. And Beca still loved her more than anything anyways.
What broke her the most was realizing that he was on the receiving end of Chloe’s love and affection now. He was the one experiencing those subtle touches, he was the one getting hugged just a little bit too long for it not to be intentional, and Beca didn’t even want to think about what they did in bed. She didn’t dare. Hadn’t ever dared thinking about what her and Chloe could have been doing there either. It felt invasive and wrong in more ways than one and it hurt too much, too. She didn’t want to picture the things she was now missing out on. Was going to miss out on forever.
Beca was completely sure she had missed her chance with Chloe, and so she distanced herself where the redhead had distanced herself too. Not just from her, however, from all of the Bellas, all of her friends.
She had never been one to like social interactions and yet sitting in her room all day, desperately trying to forget just in how much pain she was, was pretty concerning, even for her.
And it went on like that for weeks, without her talking to anyone about it. Because of course she couldn’t do that either, just like she hadn’t been able to talk to Chloe. Instead she tried to repress her feelings, tried to act normal, though her friends soon noticed that Beca was barely eating, that she was drinking too much. Some of them had even caught her smoking and her horrible attempt of hiding it had failed completely, backfired, even. And yet she had managed to somehow convince them that she was going to be okay, though she wasn’t quite sure if that was actually true.
It was that particular morning that someone finally spoke up. Stacie, to be precise. After a few sleepless nights, Beca was sitting at their table, once sgain unable to eat. It felt pointless, as nothing was going to fill that hole in her life where Chloe had once been. Stacie was eyeing her with a worried expression written all over her face, trying to find the right words, making sure that they weren’t too harsh, before she actually opened her mouth.
“You look horrible,” the taller girl stated, biting her lip. She and Beca had always loved teasing each other, but her eyes seemed empty now, her expression emotionless. Perhaps she should’ve went with another approach.
“Well thanks,” Beca mumbled sarcastically and rolled her eyes.
“You know how I meant that. You look like you haven’t slept in days an-”
“I haven’t,” Beca stated, interrupting her friend without even thinking about it. It was then that Stacie took a deep breath and finally said what she had wanted to say from the very beginning, finally stopped trying to talk around the subject like everyone had for weeks.
“I know you love Chloe more than anything. And I know you’re hurting, of course you are. I probably can’t even begin to imagine how you must feel. I’ve never been in a situation like yours, have probably never connected to someone like that. Well, I definitely haven’t. Because it doesn’t get better than you and Chloe. You guys are perfect for each other, everyone can see that. But you gotta talk to us. You can’t just repress this and stay in your room all day. I know she’s seeing this dumb guy and I know it must be killing you, we can see that it does. But it feels crappy that you don’t talk to us and it feels crappy not knowing how to help you.”
Beca opened her mouth, wanting to deny everything, like she usually would have. Wanting to pretend like Stacie wasn’t completely right, like she wasn’t missing Chloe more than anything. But instead, she finally stopped. She finally stopped pretending that the redhead wasn’t the most important person in her life. Instead, she nodded softly and shot Stacie a watery smile, before she suddenly burst out crying. All of her attempts to hold her tears back had failed.
She hadn’t cried once in those past few weeks, had wanted to stay strong. Crying equaled weakness in her book and she hadn’t built all those walls around herself for people to think she was anything but completely badass. And it had taken exactly this speach from her friend for her to realize that it was okay to cry, doing so feeling like falling deeper and finally being able to breathe again all at the same time.
Neither of them had noticed the unusually quiet redhead standing in the hallway, neither of them had known she was listening and they therefore hadn’t seen her tears either. But she was there in less than a second, was engulfing Beca in a tight embrace exactly when she needed it the most.
The brunette didn’t question it, instead she held tightly onto Chloe and let herself fall into this beautifully comfortable safe space that she knew only the redhead could provide, that she knew could be deadly.
And in that moment they both realized that perhaps they weren’t too late after all. That perhaps, for once, their timing was just right.
