Her heart thumps loudly against her chest, a thundering beat that rattles deep in her core. She shouldn't be this nervous. But, she is. And on top of that, she's terrified. Her palms are sticky and damp, her throat tight and scratchy, like she's swallowed a bucket of sand. She curses her body for reacting without her permission. She's Beca Effin' Mitchell. She isn't scared or nervous, not in public anyway. No, she waits until she's in the privacy of her own room or shower before daring to let her body react. But, here she stands, hand practically slipping off the doorknob to the roof of the Arts Center, waiting for her stupid body to stop reacting. She shoves her sleeve over her hand and the material quickly soaks up any moisture, giving her a chance at opening this stupid door. An exhalation shakes from her lungs and she inhales sharply, a last attempt to get it together. "Lock it up, dude," she mutters to herself. "It's just Chloe."

She lets out a strangled laugh because that's the funny thing. There's nothing just about Chloe. The girl has always far exceeded anyone's expectations, including the DJ's. She's never good, always great. She's not pretty, she beautiful. She's not smart, she's a freaking genius. She's Chloe Beale. She's never been just anything or anyone.

The door opens with a sharp metallic shriek as she pushes through. It's late afternoon and the sun is starting to sink in pink puffy clouds. A cool breezes makes her hair whirl around her cheeks and stick to her lips. She brushes it all back as she walks across the roof, her movements quiet. Her eyes dash around, searching for any sign that Chloe is actually here. It doesn't take but a second longer for her to spot the redhead. Chloe's sitting on a bench near the garden club's greenhouse. Her knees are tucked under her chin and she fiddles with the laces on her shoes. She looks so small, delicate almost. Beca sighs shakily before moving closer, slow but steady. Her gut is tied in knots and she swallows hard. She goes to speak but instead mumbles out some version of a greeting. She exhales sharply, cursing herself silently.

But, it's enough to get Chloe's attention and the girl turns her head, tilting it slightly. Her brow furrows. "Beca."

She responds with a curt nod. It takes her a moment to say something because she notices that Chloe's been crying. The sun reflects off partially dried tears that speckle Chloe's cheeks. Her blue eyes still glisten and her nose is pink. "You shouldn't cry on a roof, people might get the wrong impression."

It's incredibly stupid and definitely not funny. But it's been said and she's kicking herself for it. She quite literally bites her tongue, hoping she can get it in check quick enough to explain why she's really there. Otherwise she might throw herself off the roof. She's thankful Chloe's chosen to ignore her stupidity, but the girl stares. And Beca's blood turns icy. Bold blue eyes focus in until Beca realizes she's zeroed in on her swollen lip. The brunette touches it, forgetting it was ever there. It's tender still, but doesn't sting anymore. She presses her lips together, as if to hide it, and her hands retreat to her back pockets.

"What happened to your lip?" Chloe questions.

"I bit it," she says. "Shit. No. That's a lie." Chloe's eyes widen with confusion. She's waiting. "Okay, so I'll tell you but it's not that big of a deal," Beca starts, shifting on her heels. "I got hit in the face-"

"By who?" Chloe interrupts, standing. Beca recognizes protectiveness in her tone, and she moves closer. "Who did this, Beca?"

"It's okay," Beca reassures, her hands out in front of her now. "It doesn't even really hurt anymore."

Chloe shakes her head, "Beca, were you attacked? Are you okay? Did you tell the police?" She's inching towards panic and Beca knows if she doesn't come clean about what happened Chloe will be dragging her to the nearest police station to file a formal report.

"No, I did the attacking," Beca admits. She hangs her head low, because truly she is ashamed of what she did. And saying the words aloud to Chloe sound ugly. And she already feels ugly enough about what she's said to Chloe in the past few days. "I sort of jumped Alex."

"You what?"

Beca sighs, her hands wring in front of her and she can't quite bring herself to look Chloe in the eye. "I saw her on campus and I just… freaked. I tackled her to the ground which was totally dumb because she's got like six inches on me-"

Chloe waves her hands in disbelief, "Whoa, wait. Alex did this? You fought her?"

"It was only like two minutes. Then she pinned me to the ground-"

"Yeah, I bet. She has a black belt." The remark stings Beca's ego. "She could have really hurt you."

"Well, she didn't," Beca stammers. "She talked, we… we talked,"

"You talked?" Her arms are crossed now.

"About you."

Beca senses Chloe's growing frustration. "Great," she scoffs, turning toward the sunset.

"And then I went and saw Jesse-"

"Please, tell me more. This keeps getting better. Please, continue," Chloe groans.

She's bitter, and Beca decides she isn't happy with bitter Chloe. Bubbly Chloe is better. She's standing close enough now that if she were to reach out, she could touch her. And against her better judgement, she does. Chloe doesn't move, doesn't even flinch.

Her skin is warm against Beca's cool fingers, and Beca squeezes her arm. The redhead shrugs Beca off and turns to her. Her expression is flat but her eyes are threatened by more tears. It breaks Beca's heart all over again. "Chloe, I didn't… They told me things that I already knew and I guess I just needed to hear it from outside my own head."

Crossing her arms tighter, Chloe blinks slowly. She's tired. "Just cut the bullshit, Beca. What do you want?" The words ring sharp and hard in Beca's ears.

"You, dude," Beca states, blankly. "You. I want you, Chloe. Again. I tried to be mad at you, and at Alex, but over and over again my brain just kept making me mad at myself, for what I said and for what I did. Because you were right, loving you should be more than enough to make me happy. It should be enough to get through all the crap we face and enough to make me chase after you for once. So, that's what I want and that's what I'm trying to do. Failing miserably, though I'm sure," she huffs out the last part.

Chloe's head falls to the side and with narrowed eyes she asks, "You want to get back together?"

Beca nods. "Yes, I do."

She waits for Chloe's response, which seems like years. Chloe swallows and sighs, looking exhausted and fed up. The pout on her lips and the glistening of fresh tears in her eyes churn Beca's stomach. She wants to hold her and she hopes that later on she'll be able to. Her voice is nothing but a whisper when she poses her next question: "Do you love me still?"

And that's when Beca can't stop herself any longer. Her arms reach out and scoop Chloe into them. She hears Chloe break down in the crook of her neck and because she's Chloe Beale, Beca can't help but cry also. They're shaking against each other, soft whimpers accompany soothing hands. Beca sniffles and pulls Chloe's face away so she can finally look her in the eye. "Of course, I love you, Chloe. More than anyone could love another person. I always have, I always will." She wipes at the tears that steadily stream down Chloe's cheeks and she licks her lips, willing the sadness away. "Chloe, I want to be with you. I miss you. And I want to forget all the bullshit because it doesn't matter. Nothing matters if I don't have you to come home to at the end of the day."

Beca's desperate for her words to be comforting, but she's alarmed when Chloe just starts crying more. She cradles Chloe's head in her hands against her chest, kissing her brow and her cheek. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, please don't cry anymore. You're making me cry and I hate crying," Beca murmurs against the girl's forehead. This elicits a small giggle. She uses her sleeve to wipe away the tears on Chloe's face again, small broken smiles forming on their lips. "Seriously, Beale. You're going to ruin my tough guy street cred."

"Shut up and kiss me," Chloe says through a light laugh. And Beca does.