Sometimes I forget I'm writing things by accident. Also, Chandler's little rant about how much she hates Veronica at the moment is literally from Kim Kardashian. No regrets.
Summary: Waking up is hard. Even for Christmas. Veronica may never find her sock.
Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Heathers in any way, shape, or form.
"Heather.. Heather, wake up.." Veronica yawned, reaching over to awkwardly poke her snoring, drooling girlfriend in the face, "Where's my sock." Poke. "Heather. Wake up. It's Christmas. You have presents to open. Heather. Get up."
The blonde grunted, not bothering to open her eyes, her voice heavy still with sleep, "Unless it's a nice expensive engagement ring, I don't want it."
"Stop being such a bitch and wake up. It's already past noon."
"Hell no."
"Fine. I'll get you up myself."
A few moments later there was a screech, a loud thud, and red nails desperately clawing at the sheets. Heather was now out of bed. Granted, she was on the floor. But she was out of bed.
With a loud huff, the blonde glared up over the edge of the bed at the smirking brunette.
"How fucking dare you.. You're such an evil bitch. How fucking dare you, Veronica. You've crossed a major line with me. That shit is not okay, you dumb, evil little fucking troll. You have no idea how much I hate you right now. You're disgusting."
".. All I did was wake you up."
"You pushed me on the floor!"
"Because it's Christmas!"
"Do I look like I want to celebrate some dead asshole's birthday right now."
"Nope. But you're going to."