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She was fucked.
Completely.
Fucked.
She’s signed her own execution.
Gods, there was no way to come back from throwing up on Heather. It was the final nail in her coffin, one she’d be promptly shoved into come Monday.
She was spiralling, Veronica was always spiralling but this time she was unbelievably drunk. So it was only natural that she ended up doing something stupid. Like somehow ending up at heather chandler’s house. Like climbing through her bedroom window.
She did not mean to end up there.
That was the thing. Veronica Sawyer was many things, impulsive, dramatic, catastrophically bad at stopping herself but she was not, traditionally, a criminal.
And yet here she was, hands braced on the windowsill of Heather Chandler’s bedroom window, heels scraping against the brick like the world’s least graceful thief.
The window was open.
Of course it was.
Heather Chandler probably forgotten to close it before heading to the party. Veronica squeezed her eyes shut, breathed through the lingering burn of vodka and humiliation, and hauled herself inside. ‘This is so stupid’ she thought ‘crazy stupid’.
The room smelled expensive. Clean, slightly floral with a hint of hairspray and something unnamed but unmistakably Heather. Veronica froze just past the curtains, heart threatening to explode.
“What the actual fuck”
The voice came from the bed.
Veronica turned, slowly, like she might be shot for sudden movements.
Heather Chandler was sitting upright against a mountain of pillows, hair loose, eyes dark and narrowed in the low light. She stared at Veronica.
They looked at each other.
Seconds passed.
Deathly silent.
Veronica wasn’t going to just die on Monday, she was going to be eviscerated. Cremated by the demon queen. Maybe even arrested at this point.
“…Hi,” Veronica said, because she was an idiot.
Heather blinked once. Twice. Like she was still half asleep “Did you just…,” she said carefully, “climb through my window?”
“Uh… I-I can explain.”
Heather’s laugh was short and incredulous. “Fuck me with a chainsaw ronnie, that’s what I’m waiting for.” It was biting, in that same cruel tone she used to belittle.
Veronica swayed.
She grabbed the edge of the dresser to steady herself and immediately regretted it when Heather’s gaze sharpened.
“You threw up on me and now you break into my room like a psycho. You really have a thing for social suicide. By Monday morning, not even Martha dumptruck will sit with you”
“I know I know, but everyone loves a lone wolf” Veronica smiled to herself. She was on deathrow, hoping a bit of humour may help her case.
she really was done for.
“I came to apologise, Heather”
“Get out.”
The word hit harder than Veronica expected. She swallowed, throat tight, something hot and awful crawling up behind her eyes. She knew this would go badly, but she had no idea it would be this tragically bad.
“Like you said I’m dead on Monday,” Veronica said, too quickly. “So I figure, statistically speaking, there isn’t too much to lose”
Heather just stared at her. She still looked unfairly divine nestled amongst pillows.
That wasn’t in the script.
Veronica was hoping that Heather would be… well less Heather-y, but the universe hated her.
Heather’s expression flickered, irritation, confusion, something else Veronica couldn’t name.
she swung her legs off the bed and stood.
Heather was like oxygen, her presence spread throughout the room and Veronica was now anxiously aware of how Heather, the mythic bitch herself, was only footsteps away.
“Stop trying to be funny,” Heather snapped.
Seems like Veronica’s half rambled puns did not land.
“I’m not trying to be.” She laughed nervously, a total lie but still. “I just— I didn’t mean to. Any of it. I didn’t mean to ruin your shoes, or your dress, or your—” She gestured helplessly.
Heather stared at her.
Veronica should have stopped talking.
“I’m really sorry,” she finished, quieter.
Silence settled between them, thick and humming.
Heather exhaled sharply and ran a hand through her hair. “You’re such a pillowcase, like you’re an actual airhead I swear.”
“Hey… I’m not that bad”
Heather took a step closer. Veronica’s back hit the wall. The room felt too small. This was it, Heather chandler was going to actually kill her. She was a dead girl and all her brain could do was focus on how good Heather looked without makeup.
“You know what the worst part is?” Heather said
Veronica shook her head.
“God you’re so oblivious”