Chapter by: xlovemusicalsx
Heather Chandler's POV
I caught myself thinking (y/n) was cute. She was, sure, but I didn't care. I refused to care. I didn't catch feelings, I didn't date, I stopped at thinking random, stupid people who passed by were cute.
It was a sunny day outside, but I was determined to walk (y/n) home. Her thoughts were so loud, I couldn't stand it. And she always got herself into some ridiculous type of trouble like the bumbling fool she was. If I wasn't present, she'd probably get jumped or something.
She was off in her thoughts, and I noticed she was thinking about her cats. That was probably a nice distraction for her with everything hectic going on. It was just her and her fur-babies in her head. That was a reasonable way to cope with trauma.
(y/n)'s POV
"You're awfully quiet, huh?" I asked carefully, about halfway through the walk home. I was still saving up for a car, so I walked everywhere.
Guess it got me relatively in shape, huh?
"I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear those thoughts and say yes, I'm quiet, why?" She answered carefully. My cheeks heated up remembering my thoughts.
"Why can you hear my thoughts even when I'm far away from you?" I asked after a moment of silence that passed between us.
"Because I can only really hear the thoughts of those who are physically close to me, or have been enough that I can still pick them up. And you think loudly, so the sound doesn't really muddle all that much," she answered simply. I nodded with a small smile.
It was nice being walked home, I realized. I wouldn't know, since Heather Duke always was too busy to do much more than study dates or the occasional get-drunk-at-a-bar-and-watch-her-flirt-with-someone-else.
"Why did you stay in your relationship so long?" Chandler asked suddenly. I smiled awkwardly at the question.
"I dunno, I guess I just liked the idea of a girlfriend and all. I liked the idea of being loved, and I thought she loved me. I didn't really know any better. It's hard to get over someone when they're so entangled in your life." I monologued. I didn't know where I was going with it, I just needed to talk.
"That's understandable. You can tell me anything, I'm fine with your ranting mortal." She told me gently. My smile became a little less uncomfortable as I looked down at the ground.
"How come you're so nice to me? You could've easily just left and never talked to me again after the whole panic attack thing. Why do you still seek me out?" I whispered softly.
"A lot of questions today, huh? I'm here because I haven't had a friend since I graduated high school and my parents turned me into a 'creature of the night' or whatever. And you're a nice person, (y/n). I like having you around." She explained. My cheeks felt warm at the sincere praise she gave.
"Thank you, Heather. It's good being friends with you, too. You're too good to me." I told her. She chuckled, and when I glanced over I saw her shaking her head as she smiled fondly.
"Maybe I am." She chuckled. We continued the walk home in comfortable silence, both with a better understanding of the other.
Today was a good day, I'd say.
(580 words)