My Mythic Bitch In Red

Chapter Thirty-Four

Heather Chandler's POV

My mind was racing with possibilities for what could have gone down tonight. Yet here I was, laying awake and wondering what would have happened if I rammed her against a wall and made out with her.

She was just so sexy tonight and she was mine and whispering in my ear-

I really loved the girl, but damn, I also definitely wouldn't have minded fucking her senseless and just hearing her gasp at the smallest touches, barely ghosting her (s/c) skin. If you could get addicted to a sound, that would easily be my addiction.

I knew she'd want to wait, though, so I was gonna wait and love her with all of my heart, before, during, and after intimacy. She was like... okay I wasn't good with words so I couldn't even describe her if I tried. But whatever I could say would never sum it up.

Damn, I was a lovesick fool. And the bigger issue with that was I didn't care, as long as she looked into my eyes and gave me that little smirk she used when she teased me, or excitedly talked about the amazing set design for a show she saw at a local college.

I got super deep after thinking about my girlfriend, what was that about?

Holy shit, I HAD A GIRLFRIEND.

I sat up in my bed, grinning. There was no way I was getting a wink of sleep anytime soon, and my cheeks already hurt after smiling through that entire internal monologue. I needed to get up and get some water.

I swung my legs off the bed and walked lightly to the bathroom connected to my room, careful not to wake anybody up at what was likely an ungodly hour. I was so lucky it was the weekend and I wouldn't be leaving the house until the evening for a dinner date with (y/n).

My sore legs screamed in protest at walking, but maybe this would help me sleep. Exhaust myself just enough that I'd be too tired to think once I got back to my bed.

I decided against turning on the light once I reached the bathroom, grabbing a small Dixie cup and turning on the faucet, filling it up with cool water. I poured it down my throat like a shot, which probably wasn't a good idea, but I was tired and a bit tipsy, so my brain didn't want to do good ideas.

Yes, I was indeed tipsy as I just said. Ronnie and I snuck a little bit of vodka into our punch at the dance, since things were getting boring and frankly, Mac and (y/n) wanted to see what we did. I heard them whispering about it after the idea was proposed.

The best part of the liquid courage, however, was not its effect on me, since I didn't get drunk very easily. Veronica, however, was a lightweight and flirted with Mac the rest of the night. (y/n) had been right about the two being good for each other, and we all knew it.

I yawned, looking at myself in the mirror. My hair was an absolute mess, my eyes were bleary with tiredness, and my nightgown was riding up to my upper thigh. Some red lipstick was still on my lips, some having transferred around my chin. What a ravishing look, Heather.

With that, I decided I ought to try again at sleep. I really wished (y/n) was here, she was like my own personal teddy bear. But right now I'd have just deal with her lack of presence and sleep on my own. I glanced at the alarm clock next to my bed, reading 2:18am in bright blue text. Great, absolutely wonderful, Heather. I plopped into my soft covers, the fuzziness of the blanket tickling my face ever so slightly. It felt good though, and I felt myself drift into a dark abyss.

(y/n)'s POV

I groaned when I woke up, reaching out my arm to slap my dreadful alarm clock, successfully shutting it up as it fell off my bedside table. I blinked groggily, eyes burned by the sunlight streaming into the room. I screwed them shut once again, and buried my face in my pillow.

Why couldn't I sleep when I actually wanted to? 

I decided I might as well get up, and did so, gently placing the alarm clock back on the bedside table. It read 10:35, which was a decent time I get up for me. I didn't remember why I set that alarm, but late night me was pretty stupid. I leaned backward, stretching my stiff back and shoulders.

It was then I realized, I was still in my Halloween costume, having been so tired after the dance that I just passed out without so much as a thought, besides that of my alarm. I rolled my eyes at my past self and went to put on sweat pants and an over-sized t-shirt. I could change into something nice when I was actually going out, leaving me plenty of time in my cozier outfit.

I also plucked up a pair of bright blue and orange striped fuzzy socks on my way to the bathroom, feeling I deserved to treat myself a bit.

I mean, I did score a girlfriend and a date with the girl I really liked, so I had that going for me. I felt my face naturally spread into a smile just thinking about it.

Heather Chandler loved me, and she was mine. She was my favorite person, and I could easily get lost in her deep, blue, crystalline eyes that glimmered with joy when she made eye contact with me. If eyes were the window to the soul, then she must have had a wicked good soul, since her eyes were as breathtaking as the rest of her.

And holy shit, I was so smitten.

(988 words)