So What If It's Us?

Carry on

TW: Slight Mentions of violence

Veronica's POV

The alarm on my phone dinged and chimed. With a groan, I searched for it on my nightstand. In the dark with only slivers of the rising sun my phone was impossible to find. After a few minutes with the aggravating noises still ringing around in my head I found it. I shut it off and slid onto the floor. I let out another groan at feeling the coldness of the hard wood on my feet. I'd be wearing socks to bed now.

I made myself breakfast. Pouring a cup of coffee, I almost spilled it everywhere when Heather's ghost materialized to the right of me.

"So, you saw Jesse James. Shocker he's alive right?" Heather taunted as I brought my mug and plate over to my tiny table.

"Just leave me alone Heather. I'm not in the mood right now." I told her as I tried to wave her away. Her teasing, snooty face turned into one of anger.

"Did you think I was in the mood to be killed? Do you think I want to be here talking to you right now? No! I want to be at peace for once! I want to go wherever we go when we die, not stay here stuck!" Heather shrieked at me. At that moment I started to wonder, Why are the three of them still here? Why haven't they moved on after all these years? 

"I'm sorry Heather. I truly am. Nothing can make up for what I did. I'm just still freaking out over finding out J.D is still alive." I apologized. Her face turned back to normal for the most part. Instead of finding a taunting glare in her eyes, I saw one of forgiveness. It was a start.

After finishing my breakfast, I completed the rest of my routine and left for work. Driving down the almost empty roads at the early hour made me feel hollow; Chasing that hollow feeling away, I turned on the radio. Screeching along to the songs at the top of my lungs made me feel a little bit better.

I parked my PT cruiser into my special spot, reserved just for me. I beamed. There were good sides to being a therapist. I got my own parking space. I occasionally had fun with my clients. I got to help them out. But of course, the downsides. Always having to hear awful stories of self-harm or abuse. Always worrying about my clients, fearing that overnight they could take their own life.

I brushed those thoughts out of my mind as I entered the building. I finally realized how cold it was outside when the wall of hot air hit me. I shivered at the temperature change.

"Good morning Angelica." I greeted my secretary as I passed by. I continued walking down the hall to my office. Unlocking it, I went inside, closed the door behind me, took a breath, and plopped down onto one of my couches.

I could've nodded off just then,  but my phone dinged. Stupid fucking phone. Always waking me up, I complained in my head. I checked the number. It was unknown. Panic welled up inside of me. I read the simple message.

Unknown: Good morning Ronnie. Lovely office you have.

I froze. With a shaky exhale, I took of my coat and hung it on a rack. I sat down at my desk and checked my schedule. It was full of appointments. I would have barely any free time to think or check my phone. Just what I needed.

*Time skip brought to you by me listening to the whole Hamilton soundtrack. In one sitting. I feel so accomplished!*

I gave my client a sad smile as they left. Sighing, I checked my schedule to see who I had next. Connor and Evan. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of those two. I really think they can help each other more than I ever could. It doesn't hurt that I also ship them. They just happen to be my OTP.