Bechloe Oneshots

11. Her Beca

Slow tears tracked down Chloe's cheeks. She lay on the double bed of the Brooklyn apartment. Alone. It was cold, just like every night. Beca was off in LA, being the musical genius she was and Chloe was curled up on their - her - bed, yearning for someone to hold her. But this time was different. Chicago had broken up with her. And she was all alone.

A soft lullaby echoed around the apartment. A sweet ballad, filled with love and regret. Chloe confusedly opened her eyes, a gentle hand stroking her hair. "Hey Chlo. I got your message," Beca whispered softly.

Chloe sat up slowly, watching the brunette. "I thought you had an event today," she mumbled, scooting closer and burying her face into her best friend's neck.

"You're more important," Beca murmured, holding the redhead protectively. "You're always more important."

That's not what Chicago thought. Tears trickled again as the thought sneaked into her mind. "He didn't think so," she sobbed. "My first serious relationship in years and he breaks up with me on our anniversary! Over text!" the redhead cried, desperately clinging to Beca. "Why did he have to be so mean!"

"He didn't deserve you," Beca cooed, rocking her slightly. "None of them did."

After a couple of minutes, Chloe's cries subdued. "You always say that," she sniffled.

"That's because it's true. No one who deserves you would even dare to try to leave. You're Chloe Beale, the most perfect human on the planet!"

Chloe smiled through her tears. "Will you ever leave?"

Beca smiled back, tenderly wiping away the tears. "Never. I'm here to stay. We're gonna grow old together, whether you like it or not."

Chloe reached down and intertwined their fingers. She didn't need a girlfriend or boyfriend. She had a Beca.