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Heather Chandler's POV:
“Are you a chicken?” Heather McNamara, well, Mac asked. Me, a chicken? Please. I snatched the white mug from hee, expecting my prairie oyster, God was my hangover bad. I glared at the slightly blurred version of my friend, not bothering to look in the mug.
“Please, I am not a chicken,” I barked at her. How could Duke like this gal? Speaking of, the brunette was watching me, and I began feel my face heat up. Okay, yeah, I had a crush. I'm a lesbian, what do you expect? I eye the pair before chugging down the liquid.
That was my mistake.
Honestly, I didn't know what was happening. My throat closed up and the mug dropped to the ground, shattering on impact. My hands flew up to my throat, holding it - as if that would help me. I saw black spots in my vision. I was dead. I'm dead. I was going to die. What hurt is that Duje was watching, with slightly teary eyes. She'd been tricked. She had no idea. This was all Mac's fault, for some reason I couldn't conclude. Did I do something? Shit. I could feel my legs giving out as I was trying to walk forward. I remembered good things as my life was ripped from me. I remember when Duke surprised me with BBQ Corn Nuts from the 7/11, and then us being drunk the week before and making out in the backseat of my Porsche. Actually, I'm not sure if she remembers. But I certainly do. I tried to bring myself to smile and muttered two simple words before I fell forward into what I thought was my glass table.
I awoke with a jolt, shaking. Woah, I'm not dead? I thought I was. I sharply inhaled. I wasn't injured? I looked around. It was one of our weekend-ly sleepovers. This time it was at Mac's. Speaking of, she was dead asleep. I barely restrained a cough from my little nightmare. Veronica was asleep, but there was no sign of Heather Duke. I sighed, fiddling with the bun I had my hair in, which I always put in when I slept. It was more routine, I guess. I looked at Mac. Sure, in school, she could be just as bad as me, or Duke, on our periods. But out of school? She is more bubbly and cheery. I guess that's my fault. But the Mac I know wouldn't hurt me. Right? I gaze at her a little while longer before remembering the other Heather. Duke was there, teary eyed. Did she like me in the way I liked her? Probably not, seeing as she's probably straight.
“...Chan?” I startled, turning to Mac's bedroom door, seeing Duke in the doorway, as she had an arched eyebrow. Good thing it was dark, because my face matched my lipstick that was rubbed off by the pillow.
“What?” I snapped. I didn't mean to sound rude, but I've never known how to keep my emotions in check. She wandered over, sitting next to me. Unfortunately, she noticed my shaking.
“Did you have a nightmare?” She asked. I stiffened. Then scoffed.
“I don't get nightmares, Heather.”
“We all do, C. Come on, you can tell me.” That look was killing me. I wanted her to hold me and let me cry, but she's double-crossed me before, that's when I decided that Heather Chandler was an emotionless, stone cold bitch who rules Westerburg.
But I wasn't that.
“It's not important.”
“Really? Maybe I should wake Mac, she'd know what to say-” She started, and I couldn't stop myself, as I cut her off.
“NO! SHE MIGHT TRY TO KILL ME!” I clamped my hand over my mouth, as Duke stared at me, wide-eyed. It was a miracle I hadn't woken anyone else.
“Oh, Chan.. This is about the time where J.D poisoned you, and you went into a coma for a month, isn't it?” I muffled a sniffle and looked away.
Heather Chandler was solid teflon. Pull yourself together, damnit!
Yet, my body betrayed me as I nodded meekly. The next thing I knew was that Duke, despite being shorter than me, and the shortest in the clique, put my head onto her shoulder, supporting my weight, but I knew I was crushing her. But, I couldn't bring myself to move, “Shh.. Heather.. It's okay..” Now, she only called me or Mac Heather when she was serious and concerned. I didn't even realise I was crying until she wiped my tears. I remember telling her everything about my dream, but instead of J.D and Veronica being there, it was Duke and Mac, and that Mac tricked me into drinking draino… again.
Heather Duke's POV:
I sighed at the sleeping girl in my arms. We were now laying down and she had her arms around my neck as I was hugging her back. Her soft snores calmed my nerves a little. She had cried herself to sleep. I can't even begin to manage how terrible it must've been that day. How could my crush go through that? I mean, if you heard her before and after the incident, you'd be able to tell. Her voice was still sharp, but she couldn't yell too much or her vocal cords would split or worse. Now, she's mumbling about mean unicorns in her sleep. I sighed, chuckling gently as I fluttered my eyes shut.
“I...love you, Dukie…”
At this point, I couldn't care about the nickname I hated (secretly loved), and kissed her forehead gently, “I love you too, Chan-pagne.”
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Heathers Oneshots! (REQUESTS OPEN!)Fanfiction
Basically, this is either Canon X Canon or X Reader, I also take requests, so lemme know in the comments! Whatever AU, and any character from the MUSICAL. Heathers: The Musical - Kevin Murphy, and Laurence O'Keefe. Cover Art - MiddaySlice