Do not mistake my silence
                         for subservience.

                                                    The knife of the heart
                                                           is held between my teeth.

Natalie Wee, from “忍,” Our Bodies & Other Fine Machines

Beca spends an inordinate amount of time arranging herself into what she hopes is a ‘desirable position’ on the very new four-poster bed she’d had delivered that morning. Chloe had always wanted one and her Christmas bonus from the studio had been pretty generous this year, so she’d figured, “Why not?”

She had taken the time to painstakingly twine together two strings of fairy lights - one red, one green, because of course the six stores she’d stopped at had been out of the ones already boasting both colours - and wrapped them around each of the four posts before shoving the ends into a long extension cord that she had then hidden away under the bed to give the illusion of professionalism.

She’d even bought new sheets, in Chloe’s favourite royal blue shade no less, and had, at the last minute, sprung for a slate grey fleece throw that she thought was the same colour as the walls of the bedroom. Of course, once getting the blanket home, she’d realised she was wrong, but it was close enough.

She’s hoping Chloe will be more focused on Beca’s half naked body, rather than the mismatched blanket she’s got artfully draped over her legs. She had found some ribbon in Chloe’s craft drawers and managed to tie it in a bow around her chest in a way that covers some but really very little.

Now, all she has to do is wait.

Chloe is late. Twenty minutes late, actually. Beca hears the front door open and slam shut, and straightens from where she’d been reclining against the pillows. She hears Chloe kick off her shoes viciously enough that they hit the wall, hears her stomp her way along the hallway.

“Jiminy CRICKET, what a DAY.” She does not sound happy. “Beca?” A grumpy Chloe is not always someone to trifle with and so Beca considers her potential courses of action very, very carefully in the few seconds that follow. She even looks around to see where she left her clothes to assess whether or not she can get them back on before Chloe makes it to her.

“Upstairs!” she eventually calls out, after recalling how Grumpy Chloe or Sad Chloe or Gently Perturbed Chloe had reacted to Naked Beca in the past.

It had been well.

“I just want a mug of hot chocolate, you, and some trashy TV,” Chloe says, as her heavy footfalls announce her approach. “Maybe then I can forget this dumb job exists for the weekend.” Beca’s heart ramps up its beats like it’s readying for an explosion and she sees Chloe before Chloe sees her. “I’m just sick of– oh.”

Chloe stops two steps into the room and takes in, well, everything with a slack jaw. Beca notes, with some humour, that she seems to notice the bed first. Her face lights up with a smile and her eyes search for Beca in order to, Beca assumes, thank her. “Oh.” Chloe’s voice is lower this time, urged down there by what sounds like a mix of wonder and surprise, and a heavy dash of exactly what Beca had been hoping for.

She very purposefully glances down to adjust the bow that’s bridging the valley of her breasts and then regards Chloe’s wide-eyed awe with raised eyebrows.

“How about you open your present early instead?”

yo, if anyone wasnt me to make a map of the jamaaliday rescue thing, reblog or like or something. i have a lot of homework for this weekend but i need an excuse as to why i shouldn’t do it. lol im a terrible student, dont be like me kiddos (some of you are probably the same age as me so nvm the kiddos part lol) (i already said lol, oh well) anyway, it’ll probably take me a while actually…