After

"After it all, they found time to talk again."

Rated T

2,202 Words

Previous Fishlegs/Heather, Mentioned Fishlegs/Ruffnut

Heather, Fishlegs

Modern AU

May 28th, 2022

Breakups were hard, even if you were the one who broke it off. Heather learned this the hard way. After breaking up with Fisher, she found herself eating heaps of ice cream and crying to sappy romance movies. She never told anyone—not even Ashley. When asked about the break up, she would smile and say it was for the best. It was amicable. They were still friends.

They hadn't talked since the breakup.

In a way, Heather argued that it was Fisher who broke up with her. They split after realizing that Fisher would never be able to support Heather's future. She had dreams and aspirations. Fisher was a simpler man. He knew exactly what he wanted and everything he needed was here. She wanted to fly away.

As the time went on, and her desire to leave grew, so did the distance between her and Fisher. Fisher—the sweet man—didn't want to break up with Heather. She was lovely and their relationship was lovely. However, after months of empty conversations and sparse dates, she confronted him.

She hated to admit it. She got frustrated with him. They would go days without talking. He'd say he was busy with school and work. They rarely went out, and he used the same excuse. When they did talk, and she tried to get him to open up, he would refuse. It killed her that he didn't trust her, but it angered her that he wouldn't give in.

She thought he was being difficult. Berk was a small town in the middle of nowhere in the freezing north. There was nothing there for her. Her estranged brother had long since left. Her closest friend was leaving as well. There weren't many jobs in Berk unless you were content doing manual labor.

Fisher had family here. He adored his family. At first, Heather thought it was cute. But Heather's family was gone. And then she couldn't handle seeing Fisher with his family. So, she stopped dropping by. Some selfish part of her wanted to take Fisher away from them so he could understand the pain she was constantly in.

Heather had nothing here, but Fisher had everything here. In hindsight, she didn't blame him for staying. The decision was mutual. She needed to leave and he needed to stay. They were star-crossed lovers, ripped apart by the realities of life.

In truth, she blamed him at the time. She didn't yell. They didn't fight. But she criticized him for being a scared little boy. Scared to leave the safety of his home and go into the real world. He chose childish comfort over her.

Eventually, while wallowing in her own sadness, she realized her hypocrisy: she chose the unknown world over him.

They had broken up nearly six months ago and, in the next month, she would be gone. Her brother offered her a place to stay until she could get on her feet. Heather had her associate's from the local college but was hoping to save up and get her bachelor's.

They had slowly started talking again. Being in the same friend group forced them to interact, though Heather would swear there was no animosity between them. It was just awkward. Knowing she was leaving soon, she finally mustered up the courage to ask Fisher to talk.

Now they were here, in a little diner at the edge of Berk. It was late at night, with maybe two or three other tables being occupied. It was the only time he could meet. At least, that's what he told her.

She had spent forever picking an outfit. She thought about dressing up, but they were only going to a diner. Still, she wanted to look nice. At first, she picked a fiery red, form-fitting dress. That was too much. Then she tried an olive green sack dress with a brown belt. It looked pretty, not too flashy, but green didn't fit the mood she was trying to set.

She settled on a light-blue—almost silver—top. The top had a little v-neck but stopped high enough that it didn't really show any cleavage. The short sleeves puffed out a little over her shoulders. The top ended at her hips, but she had chosen to tuck it into some high-waisted black jeans. She had let her hair down from its usual braid, leaving the curls and opting for a half-up-half-down look. She applied the slightest bit of makeup—some pink to her cheeks, rosy lips, subtle eyeliner, and mascara.

Why she was doing all this? She wasn't sure. It was a bit odd meeting an ex-lover late at night. And her dressing up didn't help. But she felt compelled to look nice. It didn't mean anything.

Heather scrolled through her phone at the dimly lit table. Her brother had just sent her a picture of the new house he bought. Along with one of an empty room, he messaged 'THIS IS YOURS!'. Heather smiled at the picture before sighing and putting down her phone. She had arrived early, and now twenty minutes had elapsed. She hoped she wasn't being stood up, but she would understand if he did.

It was dark outside, nearing midnight, as she sipped her coffee. She had no plans tomorrow. She had already quit her job, hoping to enjoy the last month she had here before entering the wild world.

A bell rang when Fisher entered the building. He was wearing a white-and-yellow plaid button-up and some khaki pants. It only took him a couple of seconds to spot Heather, and he headed over before the waitress could reach him.

"Hi," Heather said, letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her voice was far shakier than she had imagined. "You look nice."

"Thank you," Fisher responded as he sat down across from her. "You look nice as well." Heather handed him a menu from the wall-side of the booth. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Well"—She started fidgeting with her loose hair— "As I am sure you already know, I am leaving soon." Fisher glanced up from the menu and nodded. "I'm gonna get straight to the point: I'm not proud of how things ended between us."

Before Heather could add anything else, Fisher cut in. "You don't have to apologize. It's fine, really." He flashed a weak smile at her. "I get it. You have dreams and you need to be out there. We just weren't meant to be."

Heather scrunched her nose. "No, that's not what I- I mean, yes, you're right." She took a deep breath in and sighed. "I shouldn't have been so harsh about it. I wish we had stayed friends."

"Are we not friends now?"

Heather bit her lip as she looked back at her lap. "No, not really." Shifting her gaze back to Fisher, she said, "It doesn't feel like it. With how we talk to each other. Or we don't talk."

Fisher put down the menu, looking straight back at Heather. "I'm sorry."

"No." Heather shook her head, perhaps a bit too hard as it took her a second to talk again. "You don't have to be sorry. It's not your fault." She pointed at herself. "I was the one who got upset and stopped talking to you."

"You were upset?" Crap. Heather had refused to admit she was upset when they broke up. It may have been out of kindness and not wanting to hurt the boy, or maybe she just wanted to feel strong and was too stubborn to admit that it really had bothered her.

She took a long sip of her coffee, lukewarm now. "Yes."

Fisher opened his mouth to ask more, but the waitress had picked that moment to finally trudge over.

"Hello." She smiled at the pair with eyes so wide it looked like someone was holding them open. "What can I get for you guys?"

"I'll have a full breakfast platter with my eggs scrambled and some water, thank you."

Heather eyed Fisher, the edge of her lips lifting up. "I'll just have another coffee, thanks."

"Of course." The waitress smiled but dropped the face immediately after turning away from the table.

"Well, she looks… something," Heather sneered.

"She's just overworked, y'know," Fisher said with a tinge of annoyance. "That's Janice and she's usually really nice. But it's almost midnight on a Monday and it's raining outside and she's stuck working here."

"Right, sorry." Heather knew the feeling well. Work was torture in Berk because there weren't many good jobs. She had secured herself a position as a receptionist at the local vet but still had to deal with crazy customers and the even crazier veterinary staff. "So, uh, how are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm doing fine." Fisher looked at Heather, who was still looking at him and continued. "Work is well. Hours are long but I really enjoy my job." Fisher worked as a researcher, studying wild flora and fauna. "You know what my social life is like. Things with Ruth are…" Heather raised an eyebrow at the mention of Fisher's new girlfriend.

"You don't have to be scared of talking about her around me." Heather took the last sip of her coffee. "We're friends too." She put the mug down. "Actually, I don't think I ever said this, but I'm really happy for you guys. You're good for each other."

It wasn't a lie. Not fully. Ruth was a bit out there, but Heather had been as well. Ruth could give Fisher what he wanted. They'd stay in Berk, near his family, and start one of his own. It just hurt to admit. Heather really had loved Fisher, but Ruth was better for him.

"I really like her." He smiled—a real smile, this time. His gaze shifted up as his cheeks fluffed. "I want to marry her."

Heather gulped, as the waitress returned with her drink and the assurance that the food would be out in a second. She kinda wished she were drinking vodka or something else to help her through this.

There were so many things she wanted to say, but she knew she shouldn't. She couldn't. It would be unfair.

Did you really love me?

Do you wish we hadn't broken up?

If I didn't break up with you, would you have run away with me?

Heather savored the warmth of the new cup of coffee. "I'm sure she'll say yes and you guys will have a beautiful wedding."

"You can come if you want to." Heather did not lift her eyes from the mug. "I know you don't feel like friends, but everyone else will be there. And Ruth would want you there too."

Heather scoffed. Ruth was a bit territorial and did not like that Heather had been with her man before her. She couldn't bring herself to go. She told herself she would just send a gift. But…

"Can we be friends again?"

It was a stupid question to ask. Of course, Fisher would say yes. Even if they couldn't, he would say yes. He was like that. Perfectly sweet and caring. It really hurt.

"Yeah, of course."

The waitress hobbled over with three plates of food for Fisher. Heather felt her stomach grumble at the sight. She hadn't felt hungry when they ordered and she didn't want to order now. She'd just wait until she got home.

"Will be real friends?" she asked after the waitress had left. Fisher swallowed his food and tilted his head to the side.

"What do you mean, 'real friends'?" He smiled again and it kinda made Heather want to run away and curl up into a ball. "I hope you know, Heather, that I don't do half-heartedly with my friends."

Heather chugged the last of her hot coffee, ignoring the slight burning in her throat. "Thank you." She dropped enough money to cover her two drinks, his meal, and the tip before grabbing all her stuff and hopping out of the booth. "You're gonna have to text me. Keep me up to date with stuff and you and Ruth." She walked away but stopped to turn around for a second. "And tell me when you propose!"

With that, she left.

It was torture, she knew, But it was deserved. Punishment for her own mistake.

She loved him. Like, really loved him.

She regretted breaking up with him.

And—as much as she knew she shouldn't—at that moment, she felt like she would have stayed for him.

The meal was worth it—albeit, she left in a rush because her feelings became too much for her. They started texting again, casually. They talked about their days, his job, her packing. He and the others saw her off later that month. After moving, they continued texting a bit about life. His research was going well and she was adjusting to the new area. Eventually, life happened. Heather got a job and began studying again and made new friends. They drifted apart. She almost felt like she could forget.

Then, months later, she got a text from Fisher with a picture of a beautiful diamond ring.

She cried that night when no one could hear her.

I PROMISE THE NEXT ONE WON'T BE SO SAD.

Just writer's block and life, y'know.

I really have to work on my endings.

Have you ever broken up with someone?