Veronica x Heather C (chainsaw)

1.Nocturnal Encounter

Heather C POV

I stare at my ceiling, unable to sleep. I have been examining the same spot for hours. My head is still pounding from all of the alcohol I had previously consumed. I don't usually drink this much alcohol, I just wanted to keep my mind off of Veronica. I groan and turn my head. 

4:20 in the morning. 

The party ended an hour ago, yet my head is still killing me. I push a few strawberry blonde locks away from my face and sigh. I feel too dizzy to get out to bed in the morning. The hangover is going to hurt like hell. The mix of anger and dizziness is messing with my head. What was Veronica doing? Why did she have to protect Martha Dumptruck?! I feel my face heating up in anger, and.. jealousy? 

No! Why would I be jealous of that pig? I have everything... My thoughts trailed off because there was a  noise downstairs

Had I imagined it? Nobody else would be home, my parents were away for business and nobody else has a key. I ignore it and go back to staring at the ceiling. I hear a couple of muffled voices, I would normally go down and investigate, but the alcohol is making it hard to think. I reach for the phone to call 911 when I hear a soft giggle. That giggle is unmistakable, it's Veronica. 

I shake my head, it can't be. Veronica can't break into my house. She wouldn't, I must be hearing things. But, there it is again. I hear her muffled laugh and her footsteps.

"Heather?" She shouts, with a twinge of nervousness.

"What?!" I yell back, clearly annoyed. 

"It's Veronica, I'm here to apologize!" She says, 

"Well I hope you brought kneepads, bxtch. Fix me a prairie oyster and I'll think about it." I yell back, my words full of anger. 

I rub my temples, I could really use a prairie oyster, my heads pounding even harder. 

 My door opens, and I sit up. I narrow my eyes in disgust. 

Ugh, she brought the trenchcoat kid, what was his name? Oh yeah, J.D, the edgy kid who beat up Kurt and Ram. 

"Morning, Heather," Veronica says, with a hint of sarcasm. 

"Veronica, and Jesse James, quelle surprise. Well, let's get to it. Beg." I say, raising my voice. 

I comb through my wavy hair, my fingers stopping at the oversized red scrunchie. I forgot about that. 

"Look, we both said things that we didn't mean last night an-" Veronica starts, 

"I'd prefer if you did this on your knees. In front of your boy toy here." I say, making a smug expression. 

Why am I doing this? I think to myself, this is mean, even for me. And the hangover only makes it worse. 

"Yeah, anyhow, look, I'm really sorry."

I think of my favorite red blazer that she puked on, permeating it with a horrible stench that I would have to wash off. Then again, I have at least 3 more in my closet. 

"Do I look like I'm kidding? Down" I command, crossing my arms.

Veronica blinks, as if not believing what I just said. 

She slowly gets down on her knees, she offers the prairie oysters, cupping it in her hands. 

I yank the cup from her hands, spilling a bit on her crinkled skirt. I don't take my eyes off of her. 

"Nice," I say, "But you're still dead to me."

Author's note

Hi, so I suck at writing, sorry. This is my first time writing something like this. This contains spoilers, and uh, I hope you liked it. 

-Sincerely, Me