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This was a terrible idea. Beca knew it in her bones. But Aubrey had insisted that the Bellas do this “exercise” as part of their training retreat for Worlds, and Chloe had agreed before Beca could mount an objection.
(Not that she was going to object. Not after seeing Chloe so happy to do this. Beca could never refuse her love best friend anything that made her happy.)
But this was going to hurt.
“You’ll pair off and sing a song to each other. I pick the song. It will be outside your normal repertoire and outside the Bellas' usual jams. And you’ll put as much emotion into it as you can. It’ll be cathartic.”
God damn you, Aubrey.
No.
FUCK YOU, Aubrey, for picking the song she had for Beca. For picking the pairing she had for Beca. For the combination.
At least Chloe has to go first, Beca thinks, but even that momentary relief is shattered by the first few words of the song Aubrey has picked for Chloe.
“On my Own.” From Les Miserables. Fuck you very much, Aubrey. This will hurt.
Wait. Why is Chloe gender-flipping the pronouns?
“All alone, I walk with her ‘til morning” is not what she was expecting to hear.
Ohfuck. This is going to hurt even more.
“Without her, the world around me changes
The trees are bare and everywhere
The streets are full of strangers.”
Beca’s world stops.
Because Chloe.
Is staring.
At her.
“I love her, but every day I’m learning
All my life, I’ve only been pretending.
Without me, her world will go on turning”
The fuck it will.
Look, Beca’s an emotionally constipated asshole. And she knows it. But she’s not so emotionally constipated that she can’t admit how she feels to herself. And she loves Chloe. She loves her enough that she’s been letting her go. But if Chloe actually means what she’s singing…maybe she shouldn’t do that anymore or whatever.
“I love her,
But only on my own.”
Beca takes a quick second to glance around the campfire. There is not a dry eye in the house. Stacie is ugly-crying, which, impressive, because Beca didn’t know she could ugly-anything. Aubrey is quietly sobbing. (Beca’s eyes are pretty wet themselves. She got smoke in her eyes, clearly, right?) No. She’s doing this honesty-with-herself thing. That hurt. Because it hurt Chloe. Her makeup is going to be ruined.
Aubrey takes a deep breath, wipes her own eyes. “Beca. You’re up.”
“Oh fuck.”
It takes a moment before everyone, including her, realizes that she’s the one who whispered that, but she rallies. “Fuck. How the hell am I supposed to follow that?” A round of wet giggles, but Chloe is just staring at her. Sadly. Almost…despairing. And Beca can’t stand it. Can’t stand to see the pain on Chloe’s face.
So she scrambles over to her. Chloe reads her mind again and collapses to her knees as Beca goes up to her own. Takes her hands in her own. “Chlo.” Chloe won’t look at her. Chloe won’t look at her. “Please.” She pauses. “I need you if I’m going to sing this.” Chloe’s head jerks up a little. “I need you because I need you to know that this song is going to wreck me because I’m going to mean every word.”
Soft gasps from the other Bellas are easily ignored. She knows why, she’s actually talking about emotions. Willingly. But it doesn’t matter because Chloe is suddenly staring at her face, staring into her eyes, and she almost sees hope there.
So she sings. Because English has never been her first language, it’s always been music. And she knows that’s true for Chloe too. This is her only way she can actually communicate how she feels.
She sings “I Will” by the Beatles.
“Who knows how long I’ve loved you?
You know I love you still.
Will I wait a lonely lifetime?
If you want me to, I will.”
Pause. Chloe isn’t breathing. But her eyes are shining.
“For if I ever saw you,
I didn’t catch your name.
But it never really mattered.
I will always feel the same.”
Now the hardest part. The bridge.
“Love you forever, and forever.
Love you with all my heart.
Love you whenever we’re together.
Love you when we’re apart.”
The hope is back in Chloe’s eyes. The joy is back in Chloe’s eyes. Beca hadn’t misread her. For once. Finally. (She hopes.)
“And when at last I find you,
Your song will fill the air.
Sing it loud so I can hear you.
Make it easy to be near you.
For the things you do
Endear you to me…
You know, I will.”
She can’t sing any more. But she can whisper the last words. “I will.”
She is frozen. Her heart hurts. She thinks that if she’s wrong, if she actually has misread Chloe, if this isn’t going to happen, this is going to kill her. Not literally, not now, but she honestly doesn’t think she’s going to survive the decade if this is what breaks them.
She’ll murder Aubrey first, she decides. It’d only be fair.
And then she gets her answer.
Chloe is kissing her. Chloe is kissing her. Chloe is kissing her. And she kisses back. Desperately. Because there is no air without Chloe. There is no life without Chloe. There is nothing else she can do.
Dimly she hears Fat Amy yelling something about Bhloe and CR demanding that “you pitches better pay up,” but that’s all background noise. Chloe is kissing her and she is kissing Chloe. Tears are running down her face and her heart is singing and pounding and oh, she guesses they do actually need to breathe because that means they live longer to kiss more.
She doesn’t have words, but she still pulls back a second. Stares Chloe in the eyes. All she can get out is “Yes?” which, well, is both everything she wants to say and nothing.
“Yes.” It doesn’t matter. Chloe gets her. Chloe has always understood her. They’re kissing again.
When they come up for air again, she presses her forehead against Chloe’s. They’re both smiling so hard. And have very, very wet faces. (She has wet other places too, if she’s being honest with herself, which she’s promised to be.)
“I love you.” Chloe said it. Chloe said it. And Beca is ecstatic. But also struggling. Because she opens her mouth, and closes it again. Opens it again.
“Marry me.” She can’t get out the confession back, but she can get out a suggested course of action.
Bless Chloe, she still understands. “Yes. I…Becs, I’d marry you tomorrow if we could.”
Beca can’t stop smiling as she teases her a little. “Why can’t we?”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday. We have to wait until Monday.”
Beca sighs. “I guess we can wait an extra day.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Oh-em-aca-gee.” Legacy, now is not the time. “Please tell me you’re serious.”
Chloe pulls away briefly too long to smirk at her before turning back to Beca. “Deadly serious.”
Beca can’t help but smile. “Absolutely.”
And so they lived happily ever after.
But still.
Fuck Aubrey. Even if she is Chloe’s maid of honor or whatever.