Belong To Me (Bechloe)

nine.

Beca's POV

There's a scent I recognise, but I can't quite place it. Stuck in the limbo of being awake with my eyes still closed, I try to figure out what it is. Suddenly I realise that more importantly, I can't move, and my eyes snap open to see what's pinning me down.

And then I relax straight away.

Chloe's arm rests across my chest, her head leaning on my shoulder and I can feel our legs are also somehow intertwined. I don't even know how we got like that. I mean, we weren't that close when we fell asleep, but I guess sometimes situations change overnight. And I can't say I'm all too bothered about that. I still hate to admit it, but I guess the closeness is kind of... nice. It feels natural, and warm, and she looks kinda sweet when she sleeps, all innocent and peaceful in the dim morning light.

Jesus, Beca, some might even say you've gone a bit soppy.

I could say anything right now, and I doubt Chloe would have any idea. And I don't really know how that makes me feel. Catching a whiff of the scent again, I realise it's obviously Chloe, she always smells great - somehow without having had a recent shower, and even after hours of driving and going out for an afternoon. That's so unfair.

I lean close to her, her beautiful auburn waves tickling my face a little as I sit up slightly and rest my chin on her head. Wait, what the hell? Beca, cuddling has never been your thing, what are you doing?

I slowly edge myself away from Chloe, in an attempt not to wake her from her gentle sleep. But I can't stay in bed any longer. For some reason, I just don't think it's right. Being super close to her without her knowing seems like me taking advantage of her, even if all I'm doing is resting my head against hers. I don't know, I've just always struggled with intimacy - and I never want things to be interpreted in the wrong way.

I grab my laptop and head out towards the kitchen, instantly regretting not wearing socks as my feet pad across the cold wooden floor. You would've thought that at the amount they charge for rent, they would've at least installed under-floor heating, even just in the morning. It's actually freezing.

I sit down on the sofa, moving aside last night's forgotten snacks to put my feet up. I figure I may as well do something productive whilst I have some spare time - it's probably too early to cook Chloe breakfast just yet.

Pulling out a small keyboard from my work bag, I connect it up to my laptop and load up my music software, letting out a small, confused sigh as I do so. Man, why do I feel so weird? Chloe's always in my head and it confuses me so badly. I don't know what any of it means - what any of this has ever meant. I think we're friends...

But why does it feel so strong?

Beca, you can feel a strong connection to someone and be just friends. It's not like you're in love with her or anything.

Fine, maybe not in love, but I love her.

Then it's sorted. Stop feeling so much towards one simple feeling. And more than that, stop having a conversation with yourself, it's fucking weird.

I shake my head, laughing briefly at my strangeness before realising my software has loaded. I plug in my headphones and record the progression we came up with yesterday, then play it through a couple of times. I wonder what lyrics Chloe has that'd go with this. I'd love to hear them - I mean, they'd give me an insight into what her head's like; it's usually so ambiguous and honestly, I'm intrigued. And I guess, bluntly, for work I need her ideas; I'm kinda helpless by myself.

When it gets to around 8.30, I decide I probably should start breakfast. I want to talk to Chloe again and the longer she's asleep, the less time we're gonna have to spend together. Walking over to the kitchen and pulling out a pan from the cupboard, I decide to make pancakes, even though I'm not the best cook. I just wanna make an effort as host, you know? I mean, Chloe drove all the way here so I've got to equal that somehow.
I gather the ingredients and start mixing them together, hoping for the best.

Chloe's POV

Waking up, I realise where I am. And I don't just mean in Beca's bed - I'm on Beca's side of the bed. Crap.

I quickly try to recall any sleep-distorted memories from my brain, hoping I didn't do or say anything embarrassing that I'd barely remember in the morning, just because I was only half awake. But there's nothing. And that worries me just slightly.

I stretch out briefly, appreciating the expansiveness of the bed before my ears fully wake up and I realise I can hear Beca. Well, I assume the crashing noise in the kitchen is Beca anyway.

I take the opportunity of being alone to properly gaze around her room. It's pretty bare in comparison to her old one... it doesn't seem very 'Beca'. Or maybe we've been apart for so long that I wouldn't know that her tastes have changed.

My thoughts are interrupted by a louder crash.
"Fuck." I hear Beca mutter and I giggle. I assume she's trying to cook something. I didn't think she could cook...

Moments later, a burning smell fills my nostrils and my suspicions are confirmed. Whatever she's attempting really isn't going well.
"What the hell? This isn't meant to happen... shit." A few crashes accompany her muttering. "Wait... no, fuck! Don't do that! Stupid pancake!" she curses more loudly, shortly followed by the sound of the smoke alarm. I figure now's a good time to make an appearance.

Opening the door of Beca's bedroom a little more, my eyes widen in shock at the scene in front of me. Beca stands in front of a pile of burnt pancakes, desperately hitting the one still in the pan with a large spatula.
"What are you doing?" I ask somewhat bemusedly. Beca looks up instantly, a look of terror on her face. She goes to speak but is interrupted by the pancake as it bursts into flames.
"Chloe, help!" she says desperately, watching in dismay as her spatula begins to melt in the flames. I rush out of the kitchen rapidly, no doubt confusing Beca even more.

I remember where I saw the extinguisher and run to the front door, grabbing it from its stand. Then I run back to the kitchen, where Beca stands still, too stunned to move. I aim the extinguisher at the pancake from hell and hold down the lever until every flame has gone. Beca continues to stand behind me apprehensively, just staring at me as if I'm some kind of superhero - which I guess isn't the worst thing to be.

Honestly, what a way to start a morning.

-

Shocker, I actually updated! Sorry for being so inactive, I suck and also I've been really busy, but I've still been writing this story - I've actually almost finished it ngl, it's just a case of typing it all up and editing it 👌
Hope you enjoyed this chapter, there will be less of a wait for the next one, I promise ☺️