Title: Laying a Hand With You
Rating: M for future chapters.
Warnings: This is RPF, so if you don't like that kind of thing...well, this isn't the fic for you. And it will be wonderfully angsty. So be warned.
A/N: So, hey you guys! I thought it was about time I write a Heya fic, considering they are my other OTP (my other is Brittana). I just think that they have so much chemistry and I just can't...I'll start fangirling soon, so I hope you just enjoy my fanfic! Like I stated previously, the rating is for future chapters. Background ships will show up, they are just undecided right now. This is un-beta'd, so send me a message if you would be interested in looking my stuff over. Also, the italics are flashbacks (obviously). Enjoy!
Things were always supposed to be easy, she knew. The way they would hold hands, hug, or snuggle was supposed to be as simple as breathing. And it was. The way they could effortlessly connect with each other in a way that words oftentimes lacked was one of her favorite parts of her friendship. What really allowed her to be so close, though, was the fact that she never questioned it. Had she done so, maybe they wouldn't have touched so much. Maybe she would have noticed what was happening before they got too caught up in each other. Maybe things would have been different.
Heather sits in her overly large chair stationed in her living room. She's wrapped in a blanket, despite it being nearly ninety degrees outside. But it isn't the air conditioning, which Taylor had turned up profusely, that's making her cold. It's this distance. And the unchangeable feeling she has had in her chest for the past month. Her heart, which is supposed to belong to Taylor, has sunk to the pit of her stomach.
She's given up trying to think about anything else. At first, she had busied herself with the show; making sure that she always showed up on time and gave twice her normal effort at dancing and her acting. When she got home to the eerie silence that was only marred by Taylor's presence, she would resort to television. But she abandoned that almost as soon as she had started; there were too many things that reminded her. Then, in her desperation, she turned to Taylor, who welcomed the change in Heather with open arms.
The sex had never been mind-blowing, but it was just enough to make her forget for at least a little while. And originally, in the heat of everything, she hadn't really been concerned with doing anything with Taylor. Her mind was elsewhere, on fantasies and feelings for someone else. But she was desperate now. Not for Taylor per se, but for some kind of distraction that could alleviate the sinking in her heart at least for a little bit.
She rearranges herself on the couch, searching for a comfort that had long since disappeared. A chill courses through her that can't be sated by the simple cover of a blanket.
"Wake up, Hemo," Naya says with a smile. Her hands lace onto Heather's sides, their trail leaving a pleasurable sense of warmth in their wake.
She groans, desperately trying to reenter her dreams, some of them concerning the girl next to her. "Five more minutes."
Heather makes a stupid decision. She decides to turn on the television. At least if she put on the news, maybe nothing would remind her of Naya. She's going to be wrong, of course, because the girl always had a way of finding an entrance into her thoughts. Even if they drive her crazy.
They're in Naya's apartment, with Heather in her bed, still enveloped in the daze of sleep and last night's alcohol. Most of the cast members had come over to her apartment, and of course when they all got together with alcohol, they were bound to get drunk. But this was a twist because usually Naya was the one to get smashed first. But something inside Heather had just urged her to let loose that night. Her decision came to bite her back however, as she was in no state to drive home and didn't feel like calling Taylor. But Naya was more than willing to allow Heather to sleep at her place.
However when Heather had stumbled into Naya's bed, rather than on the couch, things changed. Naya was not nearly strong enough to try to carry her, and frankly, she didn't want to. She liked the way Heather looked when she was asleep and didn't want to disturb her. Besides, she internally loved the idea of Heather in her bed. Of course, she would never say that out loud, though.
Heather let out another frustrated groan as her eye fluttered open. The headache that was sure to come after her previous night's drinking finally hit her full on. She rubbed her temple, her eyebrows scrunching in displeasure. "Morning," she mumbled, tired and hung over. The sunlight cascades through the open window a long with a small breeze that makes Heather's already golden hair shimmer in a way that made Naya's heart flutter.
Naya smiled at her from above. Despite Heather's headache, which she would later give her aspirin for, she couldn't have been happier. They had slept in the same bed, snuggling contently against each other. And she had to admit, that was amazing. "Hi, sleepy head." Her long fingers danced over Heather's face to tuck back one a loose blond strand of hair.
The blonde sighs at the contact and at how close they are. Everything was so natural. Her head may have been pounding, but with Naya right next to her and her fingers on her face, things didn't seem so bad. "Sorry about sleeping on your bed and not the couch. I'm a known bed hog."
"You were taking up a lot of room," Naya replies with a fake frown. She raises her eyebrow. "What should be your punishment?"
Heather's already tan face flushes a deep red at Naya's words. Perhaps she didn't mean them sexually, but all she could think about was the innuendo behind them. No, not perhaps. It was just Naya being silly, she reasoned. "I make breakfast and you have to eat it." She knew that cooking wasn't her forte, but Naya was the only one she would let tease her about it.
The face of the girl next to her scrunches (which Heather finds adorable) in mock disgust. "You're the one who is getting punished here, not me."
"Do I have to get punished right away?" Heather asks, her lower lip protrudes a little in a pseudo-beg.
Naya rolls her eyes, but a grin still is present on her features. She knows she couldn't stay mad at Heather even if she tried, especially not when she's only feigning it. Besides, a hang over counted as an incapacity, right? What kind of friend would she be to punish her in that kind of state? "Fine, fine. You're off the hook. But only for now." She snakes a hand onto Heather's wrist, silently loving the way her skin feels. "I have a surprise for you," she whispers.
The blue eyes that were once half-closed from sleep and the previous night's alcohol, open quickly to look up at Naya. "What is it?"
"It's a surprise, I can't tell you."
Naya simply gets another pout in response, and a sad look in those blue eyes that make her think Heather is a much more talented actor than she claims to be. "I'll go get it." She nearly fumbles out of bed, her legs tangled in the white sheets and is only saved by Heather's outstretched arm which wraps around her arm before she falls. Naya blushes with the knowledge of her secret clumsiness that is only not-such-a-secret to Heather.
The blonde lets go once her friend is securely on the ground, and her head plops down back onto the feather-stuffed pillow. She waits for Naya, who can be heard making a variety of hums from the kitchen. Heather loves just how much Naya is dedicated to her singing, and it reflects in her talent. She loves that Naya's singing is amazing. She loves that it's the only singing that ever made her cry - even when they're on camera. And she also secretly loves that in this position where her head is rested, she can smell Naya in the sheets.
"Here you go," Naya says from the doorway. Heather's head snaps back up, her slightly-freckled face deepens to pink as she worries that Naya caught her smelling her sheets. She chides herself, why had she done that? More importantly...why did Naya have to smell so damn good? But her face changes as a smile erupts across it at the sight of what Naya has in her arms. A platter with two plates of scrambled eggs (something Heather had yet to master making), and bacon and coffee. The smell is heavenly. It makes her forget about how the sheets smelled for a moment.
"Naya...", she says in glee, "That looks amazing." Heather pats the space next to her, urging Naya to sit down.
Naya grins. "That's because it will be amazing. I brought you some Advil, too. You know, for your headache." She sets the platter in front of them as she slides back into her previous position on the bed. Her dark eyes scrunch with her smile as they settle in together, devouring the breakfast. Heather's own supposed incapacity fades away even before she takes the Advil. Naya did always have a way of making her feel better. Especially with the way they were casually laughing at each other's jokes, talking about nothing and everything. Everything was so...perfect. Like waking up on a late on a Tuesday morning with that special someone and sharing breakfast. Their words came like just soft breaths of air that was only marred by their mutual laughter.
Full and content, Heather settles into her friend, who simply lays down next to her. They wrap their arms around each other, snuggling in the way that only they ever did: simply. They didn't have to talk about it and they never did. They never did this with their other friends, but they just attributed to this to their close connection.
But her eyes grow heavy. Maybe she's still hung over. Maybe that coffee just hadn't set it yet. Either way, she offers no resistance as her eyes began to flutter close. She drifts off as Naya tucks her hair behind her ears.
"Wake up, Heather."
"C'mon, wake up." Her blue eyes open indignantly to Taylor standing next to her, a large bag thrown over his shoulder. He must have gotten back from the gym, she reasons. But no, that wasn't supposed to happen for hours. Her eyes wander to the lit up clock on the DVD player, it's luminescent lights shine her the time. How was it already noon? She must have drifted off, she concludes. But really? For that long?
"Sorry, I fell asleep," she mumbles as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes.
He grins in a dorky way. "I could tell, babe." He hands her a crumpled up bag with an unfamiliar logo stamped on it. "It's a doughnut. Sorry if it's kinda cold," he tells her, "but I got it a while ago."
She takes it, with a half smile on her face. "Thanks." Opening the bag, she reveals some kind of glazed doughnut leaking a red jelly.
"I'm going to take a shower. Maybe we can go out to lunch or something," he says before planting a light kiss on her forehead and turning back into the hallway. She can hear him close the bathroom door behind him and the familiar sound of the water pipes churning to spew out hot water for his shower.
Heather gets up and stashes the bag in the trash, hoping he won't find it. She didn't have the heart to tell him that she hates jelly doughnuts.
Did you guys like it? I'm excited to see where this fic goes, how about you guys? Angst, ahoy. Please review.