Heaven || Harry Hook

SIX

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[CHAPTER SIX: TIP OF THE ICEBERG]

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Legs crossed, a laptop sat upon a pillow, Chassie sits in that one position from 7 pm until about 5:30 in the morning when Jane woke up and Chassie realized she can't feel her feet. Endlessly she typed, deleted, and then retyped all night without a wink of sleep. Over and over again, the cycle obviously became repetitive, but she found it repetitive two months ago when this was assigned.

Chassie could lose her mind right about now. She'd gladly rip her own hair out then do this one more time, please God, someone make it stop. Chassie's leg rattles the chair she sits on while Jane reads her report over. Minute by minute, Chassie watches the clock and Jane as she makes her way around the dorm with her laptop, going about her daily routine. And here Chassie sits at her desk in the same clothes she wore yesterday, just waiting for an okay.

Chassie continuously raises her stupid vape to her lips when Jane is in the bathroom. She is embarrassed even in herself when she sucks on a stupid device like a baby with a binky. Maybe it's just the motion that brings her a small amount of comfort, maybe it's the chemicals being transported from her lungs to her brain, most likely giving her some kind of life-threatening tumor. Either way, it helps, and at this point, she will take any kind of reprieve she can get her hands on.

Jane meanders out of the bathroom, prepared for the day in a powder puff blue pantsuit that stops below the shoulders. It took Chassie a minute to put two and two together, realizing that Jane is quite literally standing outside her comfort zone in a pair of pants — but not just that, it's the shoulder-less lace top that Chassie stares at.

Jane always claimed herself too short and wide in the hips to wear pants. Chassie always scoffed at that. She had the philosophy of 'wear whatever that fuck you want if it makes you feel good' and she lives by that. She lives by that now at least. When Chassie first got to Auradon, you'd never catch her dead in a pair of jeans or "yoga pants." She later realized that those yoga pants are probably the most comfortable thing to exist.

"You look very nice," Chassie declares.

Jane looks away from the computer to smile at Chassie, that legitimately bottled sunshine smile that would break someone's face. "You think?" Jane asks, placing her hands over the hourglass dips of her waist and looking in the mirror across the room.

"You don't just look nice, you look hot," Chassie affirms.

A pink glow rises to Jane's cheeks as she tucks pieces of loose raven-black hair behind her ears.

"Like really hot," Chassie repeats.

"Chassie!" Jane scolds, lightly hitting her in the shoulder.