She knew it was a crazy idea the second it came to mind. But as she sat on one of the living room couches, cheeks warm, head fuzzy, and sides aching from a day full of laughter, she couldn’t help but think about it.
This was the last hurrah of Bella holiday celebrations.
She looked around the room, to all of her Bellas. At Jessica and Ashley dozing off on an adjacent couch. At Lily, Emily, and Flo playing an intense game of charades. At Aubrey and Stacie gossiping at the dining room table. At Amy and CR whispering and looking like they are up to absolutely no good. And lastly, a side glance at Chloe – eyes closed, but smiling and nuzzled up next to Beca. She’s clearly feeling the effects of Amy's yearly Thanksgiving concoction too. The house is loud and obnoxious, and Beca secretly revels in it.
But then there’s pang in her chest that interrupts the post-turkey lull, because how is this already the last round of holidays they’re spending all together?
"Chlo?" The name slips out of her mouth without intention, but the redhead hums in response and Beca takes that as her cue to go on, "I'm not ready for it to be over."
She looks towards her again, still half asleep, but now with brows knit. Whether in confusion or contemplation she isn't sure.
"I want us to all have Christmas together this year."
Chloe mumbles a response this time, something Beca believes is along the lines of ‘Becs, we always have Christmas together’ and Beca huffs a breath in minor frustration at the fact Chloe can’t just read her mind and understand what she’s feeling.
"No, I mean actual Christmas. Instead of celebrating a week ahead like usual. What if we all just ... stayed?"
Chloe's forget-me-not blue eyes finally open at this. They're searching Beca's face, but Beca isn't sure what they're looking for, or maybe even hoping not to unearth. It's because the way the word 'stayed' came out of her mouth, so small and hesitant. There’s a long silence before her mind backtracks and she decides to break it. "Nevermind, it was silly, it wouldn't even-"
"Bellas," Chloe clears her throat, sitting up and looking around the room. The girls have all stopped talking and Amy has a look of automatic guilt on her face, no doubt because Chloe is using her captain voice. Beca wonders for the briefest of moments what the hell Amy and CR were about to do, as they’re frozen mid stride towards the kitchen. "All in favor of a house-bound Christmas, say 'I'".
For a house that was so rowdy just seconds before, the sudden silence seems deafening. It takes a moment before Emily says "I". Then looking around sheepishly as the rest of the Bellas, in their varying states of alcoholic stupor, consider what is being asked of them.
There’s a groaning sound and then, "Man, Cate is probably gonna be pissed at me, but I'm down" Cynthia Rose pipes in. Jessica and Ashley agree next. Then comes Amy. Flo. Stacie. Lily (they think?).
"Aubrey?" Chloe asks expectantly.
"Oh," she says, looking up from where she was wringing her hands together. "I wasn't sure I was included."
Amy looks at her, clearly offended. "Bellas for life you twig bitch" she recites. Aubrey laughs and nods in agreement that she'll be there.
"Well," Chloe declares, "I think that makes it official, "Bellas Christma-"
"What about the hobbit?" Aubrey is staring pointedly at Beca and Chloe's head jerks towards her too, smiling her megawatt smile. She had forgotten that the rest of the girls weren't privy to the fact this was actually Beca's idea.
Beca wants to play it off, say no for a moment, but that stupid smile on her stupid best friend makes it so that isn't even an option.
"Just as long as Amy doesn't get me arrested for a second Christmas in a row." She deadpans.
"Oi! It was a great idea! I think we should definitely try it again this year! I know you’ve been working on your cardio!"
Emily gives a bewildered look and Flo assures her that it is a story someone will most definitely tell in full length as the holiday comes closer. In fact, she’s shocked it hasn’t come out sooner.
It becomes a whirlwind from there.
Lots of phone calls from angry Bella relatives come in, all absolutely exasperated that their whatever-they-are-to-the-relative would dare even think about not coming home to be with family. Each of them has to take their awkward and cheesy turn of ‘but they’re family too’.
Beca's family is no exception.
Well, her dad doesn’t give a shit - but another Mitchell certainly does.
"What do you mean you won't be coming home for Christmas?" Holly, Beca's 17 year old sister is shouting through the phone.
"I'm staying with the girls this year, it's out last year to be together and-"
"You mean it's your last year to sack up and kiss that stupid redhead." She bites.
"Hey! She is not stupid." Beca shouts back.
"She's taken Russian Lit like six times. Whatever Beca, pick your stupid girlfriend over me.” She huffs, “You're really going to make me deal with mom and Randy alone for Christmas?"
"I'm not picking her – them! Over you! And she's not my ... Just. Fuck. Okay," Beca takes a steadying breath, "Why don't you come out here?"
The phone goes silent and Beca wonders if Holly hung up on her.
"Fine."
"What?"
"Fine, I'll be there."
"Oh"
"Yeah, bye." And angrily hangs up before Beca can even respond.
"Hey," Chloe says, coming up behind her, placing a soothing hand on her back, "everything okay?"
"What?” Beca jumps at the redheads presence. “Yeah. Um, Holly's just ... she's upset I'm not coming home. So, I – well,” Chloe’s looking at Beca skeptically, “I kind of invited her here."
And then Chloe’s face does that thing where it lights up like a goddamn Christmas tree.
"We finally get to meet the infamous Holly!?" She squeals, and then she’s off, lapping the house to inform the rest of the girls who seem equally excited.
There’s suddenly so much do that Beca’s head feels like it’s dizzy. Yeah, the Bellas always celebrated Christmas in their own special way (aka secret Santa exchanges and copious amounts of spiked eggnog prior to heading off to their actual families), but they had never gone full out Christmas Extravaganza. Now they need a Christmas tree, and a dinner menu, and a holiday movie everyone can agree on, and a fully decorated house.
Yes! A fully decorated house.
Something that Beca, to the shock of every single Bella, has taken the lead on. Wait, no. That isn’t the correct phrasing. She hasn’t just taken the lead; she’s gone from holiday Grinch, to the Queen of Christmas.
Hell, she’s hung endless strands of Christmas lights inside and outside the house, adorned in a full out elf costume. Where she said elf costume, nobody knows. But it’s clearly her favourite clothing item everyone just “happened” to not know about for the past four years … because she’s wearing it constantly.
Beca’s in the midst of applying white paint, with a tiny brush, to the tips of pine cones simply just to ‘give Georgia a white Christmas for once’, when she gets the call that Holly’s plane has landed.
An hour later Beca stumbles through the Bella entryway, trailing a giant suitcase, where she’s greeted with the whole Bella crew, impatiently awaiting the Christmas Eve feast.
"Girls, meet -"
"Holly!" Various Bellas scream in unison. Chloe beelines it straight for the younger girl, wrapping her in a tight hug. Much to Chloe's shock, the damn girl hugs her back. And tightly. So the automatic recoiling isn’t a Mitchell thing, it's a Beca thing, she thinks to herself. And though this girl looks strikingly similar to her elder sister, and, as the Bellas learn in a matter of hours, holds a number of the same mannerisms, she's definitely ... different. Chloe decides that she’s like – well – she's sort of like “drunk Beca”, except stone cold sober.
(Something Chloe knows for fact because the Bellas made a surprisingly unanimous decision that Christmas Eve would be alcohol free, Christmas day, however, well, the fridge is well stocked)
Christmas Eve dinner, shockingly or not, is a raging success.
It leaves the Bellas stuffed to the brim with food and laughter, and reminds Beca alarmingly of the night of Thanksgiving that sparked her idea of a housebound Christmas in the first place.
Except this is better, because she has all of her girls, and her sister, and she doesn't have a drop of alcohol in her system.
Which may sound odd for that making it all the better, but it makes the buzzing and humming of happiness all more special to her. Because it's so authentic. This isn't like Christmas Eve's she's grown accustomed to over the years. This isn't all those past nights of stress spent amongst her family fighting, driving her to sneak a drink here and there from the time she was 16. This doesn’t feel like a rubber band stretching and her wondering when it's going to snap.
No, this feels like home, this feels like love.
She thinks about this as she watches all the Bellas pass by, eyes landing last on Chloe, always on Chloe.
She wonders if she should be thinking about the fact that Chloe Beale can make her feel like that – home and love – as a standalone. Not to mention on any given day of the year. She wonders if Chloe Beale has ever truly thought the same about her. She wonders when she fell so deep into a whirlwind of Chloe Beale in the first place.
Beca watches Chloe dance across the room with Stacie, eyes flitting to Beca for the briefest of moments, before turning her attention back to their leggy friend.
Beca closes her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose, and when she looks back up, Chloe is gone. She only has to wonder where she's run off to for a second before she nearly jumps off the couch at a voice in her ear though.
"You were staring again", she hears Chloe say.
Normally Beca would roll her eyes and brush this off with a sarcastic comment, but she’s in too glowing of a mood to even try to pretend that she isn’t. So she smirks instead. “Again?”
Chloe’s sitting on the arm of the couch, fiddling with tips of Beca’s hair. “Yep,” she says definitively, and they sit in comfortable silence before Chloe drags Beca by the hands and into the kitchen, demanding she help in the brownie prep. She finds Holly and Emily already sitting at the island and watches them exchange glances, but doesn’t have a chance to think about it too much, as Chloe is suddenly throwing ingredients at her and listing off instructions.
It’s twenty minutes later when Chloe has popped the tray into the oven and Beca is eating the last of the batter off a the wooden spoon when that oh-so-familiar devious look emerges on the redhead. She takes two strides forward, ignoring all counts of Beca’s personal space bubble.
“You’ve got a little something,” she giggles, dragging a thumb across Beca’s bottom lip and then pulling what Beca believes may be the most movie cliché, and yet most typical Chloe Beale, moment of her life. She shows Beca the smudge of brownie batter on her finger before bringing it to her own mouth and licking it off in a tantalizingly direct manner. Beca’s legs are temporarily frozen to ground as Chloe throws a wink at her and spins on her heal in the other direction. Her eyes meet the stifled laughter of her sister and the youngest Bella, and she feels like her cheeks are suddenly engulfed in flames.
Holly arches a brow towards Emily who just nods in silent agreement, before the two excuse themselves. If Beca’s mind wasn’t still so muddled, she’d think it was funny how the two are so easily attached at the hip.
After brownies it’s movie watching, and game playing, and the singing of every single Christmas song Chloe can think of. Without alcohol to fuel their normal late night shenanigans the Bellas start to drop like flies around the eleventh hour. There’s a particularly large yawn that comes from Holly, prompting Beca to ask if she’s ready to turn in for the night.
“Yeah, I’m totally swamped. I was thinking I’d just stay with Em for the night though?”
“I mean Em was going to stay on the couch but …”
“Well you can just share Chloe’s bed and we’ll take yours!”
Holly gives Chloe a manic and questioning grin, who assures her that it’s ‘totes okay’ with her. Beca has little choice but to shuffle her feet forward while Chloe tugs her to her bed by the hand.
“We get to have a sleepover, Becs!” Chloe says, as Beca sinks into the mattress beside her.
“We always have sleepovers, Chlo.”
“Yeah but its Christmas! Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?” Chloe clicks the light off and nuzzles in. Beca has to restrain herself from saying yes, but for a slew of different reasons than Chloe intended.
Beca lost count of the number of times she’s woken up next to Chloe Beale in the first year of their friendship alone. She’d like to think the novelty of it has worn off; rejecting the fact that there should be no novelty or significance in the first place … it’s her best friend we’re talking about here. But as the redhead kisses the tip of her nose, waking Beca to bright blue eyes, she realises it’s a sight she may never get over.
And then she remembers it is Christmas morning and she feels a burst of butterflies flutter around in her gut. As she takes her view of the redhead it’s like she’s a little kid all over again, but she already has what she wants right in front of her.
She considers scrapping all rationality for a second and just closing the small distance Chloe has left between them. She thinks it’d be easy, that Chloe would be soft, and warm, and even kiss back, but then she’s plagued with thoughts that she thinks Chloe may kiss anyone who wakes up in her bed good morning. Not because she’s “like that”, but because Chloe Beale is the type of person that craves affection and loves love. Kissing her best friend good morning screams Chloe Beale.
Which is exactly why Beca recoils. Because she knows damn well that she would not be kissing her best friend as her best friend, and she isn’t willing to put herself in that position at the moment.
“It’s five AM, how are the gears already grinding so hard in that head of yours?”
Beca recovers quickly then, “Come on, nerd. We have presents to open.”
Beca thinks that Amy must be trying to make up for yesterdays lack of alcohol because before the Australian even offers a ‘Good morning’ or ‘Merry Christmas’ to her, she’s shoving a glass of “breakfast sangria” into her hand.
That, or she’s trying to kill her because “fucking christ, that is not for the faint of heart”.
Beca, amongst the rest of the Bellas, has a full on buzz halfway through breakfast. It’s a damn good thing Chloe opted for prepping breakfast yesterday because there’s no way on God’s green earth she could have whipped up three quiche and a French toast casserole while sipping on these. Making sure the bacon was cooked to perfection was a hard enough feat for her today.
They move onto gifts after breakfast, which is their typical secret Santa exchange, with the added in bonus of everyone in the house having to buy something to put in a stocking for Holly.
Like the past three years in a row, Amy has Beca, and Beca has Chloe. Beca’s starting to think it’s rigged. By which party, she’s not sure.
Amy’s gift to her is presented in an obscenely large box, and for a moment she’s almost scared to open it. It turns out to simply consist of more alcohol. Of course. But this time in the form of trays of jell-o shots to be shared amongst the entire group. Well, actually, Amy demands (as the gift giver), that Beca down six of the pineapple and rum ones before anything else is done.
She does so without much fight because you can barely taste them anyways.
When Beca questions Amy why her gift was in a box that is literally almost the size of her, she replies “Oh, you know” and offers on over-dramatic wink. Beca directs Chloe towards her gift instead of replying, because, no, she does not know, and she figures it isn’t worth asking.
Once presents have been settled Aubrey announces that the gingerbread competition must now commence, and they’re sorted into pairs via Beca’s elf hat. Much to Aubrey’s dismay, she’s paired with Beca.
She’s not annoyed because she doesn’t like Beca – their relationship is a much more bantered play these days – but she knows for fact (from past experience) that her and Beca have different construction tactics when it comes to gingerbread house making.
Beca thinks that using excess amounts of frosting as mortar and flat roofs are the way to go, but ‘what the hell has she never heard of angles and less is more!?’ Then again Aubrey thinks snow caps are adequate bushes and that a sour patch Santa Clause on the roof is overkill, so ‘whatever’.
Basically, their gingerbread house turns out to be a giant mound of failure, whereas Chloe and Stacie’s looks like it’s from a cooking magazine and absolutely wins best vote. The prize is no Christmas clean-up, which is a waste on Chloe since vacuuming is like her favourite hobby and she will no doubt do it tomorrow anyways. Enough of Beca’s jell-o shots have been consumed that this, and Aubrey’s lingering ginger bread jabs, don’t miff her though. In fact, instead of sending a scowl her way at the commentary, she gets up and chases Aubrey into a hug, an act that definitely turns heads. Beca’s pretty sure she hears Holly mutter something that sounded a lot like “shit, maybe we targeted the wrong Bella” to Emily who just contorts her face in disgust.
After what seems like an endless game of Card’s Against Humanity and the introduction of tequila somewhere along the line, Beca finds herself sat in the middle of the living room, whilst the party rages on in the kitchen.
She’s taking a breather because she heard the phrase 'body shots' and beelined it out of there after the predatory look and lavish wink both Stacie and Chloe gave her. She finds herself somehow lost in thoughts of the redhead, yet again, when Emily peeks her head around the corner. The youngest Bella offers an innocent smile before dodging back behind the wall. It’s a few seconds before she actually comes sauntering across the threshold, accompanied by a whispering Holly.
"Hey, Captain"
Beca looks up, nodding. "Legacy. Future legacy."
Holly lets out a solid laugh. "Ha! Like I'd ever join this group of synchronized nerd singing."
"Hey now. We do cool shit. Sometimes."
There's a pause in the conversation before a drunken Holly scans the room, eyes stopping on the box that held Beca’s gift from earlier. "Hmph." Beca raises a brow in question. "That box really is huge." Holly explains.
"Right? Beca says, "Could fit a damn house in there."
Emily looks towards it too. "I bet we couldn’t fit you in that box, Beca." She says, almost too casually.
"What? Dude, no. I can totally fit in that thing. It's giant!"
Holly eyes Emily, the start of a smirk threatens to pull at the corners of her mouth.
"Mmm, I don't know about that, Beca."
Now, Beca may be somewhat “sensitive” to her height at times. She's small, she knows that. But if there’s one thing she's learned, it is that her tiny stature can be an advantage at times.
Example A: being able to fit in very small places.
It's kind of her thing.
So that's why if anyone says she can't fit in a space, she takes it as a personal challenge she is determined to defeat. This has come up a surprising amount of times in her life. There was the locker in middle school that Justin Alston said she couldn't get into. She sure as hell did. There was the freezer located in the basement of their childhood home that Holly was positive Beca could not cram into. Oh! And there was Benji’s magic saw box that she fit into when his younger brother had to bail right before his showing at a Halloween party!
Beca Mitchell has been "riccing" long before that chick had made it a trend on twitter. No, this is fucking "Mitchelling".
It's on.
"What are the stakes?"
"Tequila. We can't fit you in the box and close it entirely, we do doubles. We can fit you in the box, you do a triple."
Beca doesn't even think about it, just gets up and walks toward the box. "Get ready to drink, nerds."
In retrospect, she should have known something was up. But drunk Beca is not an analyzing Beca. She just sort of goes with the flow. Well screw that because now she's been trapped inside a box, which her sister has so kind to duct taped shut, for at least 15 minutes.
"Chloe!" Beca hears Holly yell muffled through the box.
Beca's sitting crammed inside this box and she isn't positive where she is, considering they fucking moved her, but she heard a door and there's suddenly freezing cold air coming into the tiny holes Holly and Emily had punctured the box with. Because, they literally put breathing holes in. Which Beca is thankful for, no doubt, but seriously?
"Coming!" Chloe yells, then silence, "wait, where are you?"
"The porch!"
Aha! So she is outside. But why is she on the porch and why is Holly getting Chloe?
She hears footsteps nearing the door, and an absurd laugh from her sister and who she presumes is still Emily. Then there are loud feet running off the porch and they’re shouting.
She cannot believe this is happening.
She hears the front door open and she swears she can almost hear Chloe thinking too.
"Holly? Em? What the in the name of the aca-gods in this?"
"Chlo!" Beca squawks through the box. Chloe yelps in surprise.
"Beca? What the- what are you doing?!"
"I don't know, ask my weird sister. Can you just get me out of here?"
"I'll be right back, I just need to get a-"
"NO! No knives! Human being in here! Drunk Chloe. Blunt objects only, use your car keys."
"Right." Beca hears the jangling of Chloe's keys come out of the pocket over her fit of giggling. She feels a breath of sweet, sweet relief wash over here because she is finally getting out of this box.
"Wait!" Beca hears it clearly through the box so it must be shouted rather loudly. "Don't open it, Chloe!"
"Amy! What the fuck!" Beca shouts back.
She hears Chloe's feet shuffle and a second round of stampeding feet on the porch. Beca pokes a finger through one of the holes on the side of box, expanding it before craning her neck forward and peeking an eye out.
She sees Stacie's legs next to her. "You can't open the box." She says calmly.
"And why the hell not?" Beca yells.
The expression on Chloe's face is priceless.
"Oh, hey short-stack." Amy says. "Aw look guys, she made a peep hole."
Chloe's eyes shoot to where Amy is pointing and she laughs near immediately.
"This is not funny! Get me out of here, Chlo!"
"Do not!" Holly yells from somewhere out of Beca's viewpoint.
"Holly, what the fuck is the point of this?"
"You know!"
"I damn well do not!"
"Think real hard, Beca. Think back to last Christmas."
"Holly, I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
"The basement."
“What does our basement have to do with you shoving me in a box and calling Chl-oh my god!” Beca gasps, literally gasps as it finally dawns on her. "You sneaky little fuck!"
“Why do I get the sense I’m the only one who doesn’t know what a basement has to do with this?” Chloe asks.
“Because Beca has literally no balls” Holly mutters, sounding much closer than before.
“Um, I think that’s like part of what she thinks is the whole problem in general” Amy adds.
Chloe’s face may be stuck in a constant look of amused confusion.
“Holly, honestly this is not the time, nor place.”
“You’re the one that set the time, Becs, not me. You’re not getting out of that box unless I have your word that you’ll do it.”
Beca groans and contemplates what it would be like to live in a box for the rest of her life.
How awful could it be? She has air, she won’t have to worry about going to classes anymore, or that she isn’t cut out to be a music producer. And she definitely would not have to give an admission of her feelings to Chloe Beale. Box life doesn’t sound half bad.
"We can't just leave her in there!" Chloe adds, sounding aghast.
“Well she isn’t getting out until I have her word. And I want the Mitchell oath.”
Beca is quiet for a long while, thoughts racing and spinning, and oh god she feels like she’s gonna be sick. She needs out, immediately. “Fine! Fine! But I want all of you gone. No eavesdropping.”
There’s groaning and grumbling, but Beca can hear the feet of Bellas (more than she thought were present) walking across the porch. She hears the door close and waits for a few seconds before calling out to Chloe and asking if they’re all really gone. Chloe assures her they are and asks if she wants to come out of the box now. Beca can’t help but laugh at the fact Chloe is genuinely asking her. When Chloe finally tears it open and helps Beca out of the box, Beca takes on a nervousness she hasn’t felt towards Chloe in, well, ever.
She feels twelve times more sober that she did twenty five minutes ago.
The redhead offers her a small smile. It comes off as unsure and Beca doesn’t like to see that on her best friends face, it just doesn’t seem right there.
“Whatever it is, you don’t have to tell me, you know? We can just act like I know if you don’t want to talk about it.”
Beca laughs, not a real laugh, but an almost bitter laugh. “They’d definitely know if you didn’t” Chloe scrunches her face up, clearly wondering how, but choosing to not voice it. “Wanna go for a walk?”
They walk in silence for a long time. Or maybe it just feels like a long time. Chloe hasn’t said anything though, and that’s not helping to slow Beca’s thoughts at all. When the redhead slips her hand into Beca’s though, an indescribable calm washes over the brunette and she understands that that – right there – is why she has to at least try.
Because no one else can ease her soul like that. She finally looks Chloe in the face at this, and she notices it dark and it’s “holy crap, is it snowing … in Georgia!?” Beca yelps.
“I was wondering when you were going to notice.” And Chloe smiles, that real, honest to God smile, that always forces one to Beca’s lips too. She takes in Chloe fully for the first time since early in the morning, but even now, she feels like she’s taking more of her in right now than she has since the day she met her. Especially her eyes.
Chloe’s eyes have always been like two pools of burning blue, and Beca feels she always only timidly touching them, dipping a part of herself in before retracting. As if they’re too cold to immerse yourself in. But, God, fuck. Maybe they’re really just too warm, too full, too much.
But right now, as Beca stands motionless in the middle of street, snowflakes falling into a sharp contrast of red locks, framing the impossible blue, Beca’s ready to dive into their depths.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Whether she sinks or swims isn’t much of a concern anymore, but if the look on Chloe’s face has anything to say about it, she needn’t worry a wink.
Though maybe the lips suddenly on hers could have been a valid indication too.
“I’m supposed to tell you I love you, or something”
“I know.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”