Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I will be posting the respective fics ASAP, I promise :,)

Chapter Text

I will be posting the respective fics ASAP, I promise :,)

Chapter Text

I will be posting the respective fics ASAP, I promise :,)

Chapter Text

I will be posting the respective fics ASAP, I promise :,)

Chapter Text

Heather settled into the plush comfort of her first-class seat, revelling in the luxury that surrounded her. Positioned right next to a window, she marvelled at the breathtaking view of the clouds dancing beneath the plane. With a sigh of contentment, she indulged in a heavenly bite of a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie, its warmth radiating through her fingers like a precious treasure.

As the rich flavours of the cookie momentarily transported her away, the burdensome thoughts that had been occupying her mind dissipated. Heather closed her eyes, savouring the reprieve from the challenges of the day. In that moment, the world outside the aircraft seemed distant, and she embraced the solace of the serene sky.

However, the tranquillity was abruptly interrupted by a hesitant voice from behind her seat. “Are you… okay?”

Heather's eyes fluttered open, and a sigh escaped her lips as the intrusion shattered the fragile bubble of calm she had found. "Why wouldn't I be?" she responded, her tone a delicate blend of weariness and forced composure.

The voice behind her seat went hushed, a palpable unease threading through its tone. "Um, Courtney just left."

Heather responded with a nonchalant roll of her eyes, having spared little attention for her teammates and their interpersonal dynamics. "So?" she retorted, her indifference evident. "I like her better when she's not here anyway." With that, she closed her eyes once more, seeking refuge in the cocoon of her own thoughts.

A groan emanated from behind her before the voice chimed in again. "You know she's going to see Alejandro, right?"

Heather's eyes snapped open, the once-intact cookie crumbling in her hand as a sudden jolt of surprise coursed through her. "What?" The word escaped her lips, laced with a mixture of disbelief and a hint of genuine concern.

The voice behind her hummed with a hint of knowing. "Yeah, it's pretty obvious, you know."

Heather's irritation grew, and she hissed, "Why are you telling me this?" She swiftly wiped her hands clean with a napkin, the remnants of the once-treasured cookie discarded alongside the unsettling news.

The voice responded cheerily, seemingly oblivious to Heather's growing tension. "I thought you'd want to know."

Heather rose from her seat, pushing the plate of cookies aside with deliberate nonchalance before finally turning her attention to the source of the voice. "Well," she began, her gaze steely, "I don't, and I'm going to the bathroom. Not to look for Courtney or Alejandro, if that's what you're thinking."

A teasing smile played on Sierra's lips as she responded, "Sure, have fun!" The mischievous glint in her eyes hinted at a deeper understanding, leaving Heather with a lingering sense of scepticism as she made her way towards the aeroplane's bathroom.

Heather, still muttering profanities under her breath, rolled her eyes and headed towards the bathroom-confessional. The idea of venting her frustrations in the confessional booth seemed like a therapeutic release. She mumbled about how, if she caught Courtney there, she'd rip that stuck-up girl's hair off. The thought of expressing her feelings in the confession booth offered a glimmer of solace, and she hoped that it wasn't already occupied.

As she turned the corner and the confessional finally came into her line of sight, Heather froze. Her eyes widened, her heart skipped a beat, and a cold shock ran down her spine. There, in an intimate embrace, were Alejandro and Courtney, locked in a passionate kiss. Time seemed to stand still for Heather as the reality of the situation sank in, leaving her speechless and utterly stunned in the narrow aisle of the aeroplane.

Heather stood there, rooted to the spot, her eyes fixed on the unexpected scene unfolding in front of her. The soft hum of the plane's engines became distant as the gravity of the moment held her captive. The sight of Alejandro and Courtney entwined in a kiss pierced through her with a mix of shock and betrayal.

Her initial surge of anger was quickly replaced by a profound sense of hurt. The air in the narrow aisle felt suffocating as Heather grappled with the realisation that her suspicions were more than mere speculation. A torrent of emotions surged within her, leaving her unable to form coherent thoughts or words.

In that suspended moment, the clandestine affair between Alejandro and Courtney played out before her eyes like a scene from a soap opera. It was as if the world around her had faded away, leaving only the stark reality of the unfolding drama.

The sound of Heather's ragged breaths seemed to echo through the narrow corridor, and as the shock began to subside, a cold determination took its place. She clenched her fists, her jaw tensing as she wrestled with the conflicting urge to confront them and the realisation that this revelation had irreversibly altered the dynamics of the game.

Without a word, Heather pivoted on her heel, retreating from the confessional scene. She stumbled back down the aisle, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and hurt. The bathroom-confessional, initially sought as a refuge, now felt like a cruel mirage. As she made her way back to her seat, the once alluring view outside the window seemed to have lost its charm, mirroring the shattered illusions within her.

Heather collapsed into her seat, her world unravelling with each passing second. The weight of the revelation pressed down on her, and she couldn't bring herself to look anywhere. Instead, she instinctively pulled her knees close to her chest, seeking some semblance of comfort in the small, confined space of the aeroplane seat.

Tears welled up, blurring her vision as they spilled down her cheeks. The sting in her eyes intensified with each choked sob, and her face flushed with the heat of raw emotion. The solitude of her seat provided a feeble shield from the prying eyes of other passengers, but it couldn't contain the torrent of feelings unleashed within her.

Heather's breaths came in uneven gasps, and she tried to muffle her sobs with trembling hands pressed against her mouth. The sound of her choked cries seemed deafening in the confined cabin, a painful symphony of heartbreak and betrayal. She fought to maintain some semblance of composure, but the waves of emotion crashed over her, relentless and unforgiving.

The rhythmic hum of the plane's engines became a distant backdrop to the tempest of Heather's internal turmoil. In the midst of the airborne chaos, she surrendered to the cathartic release of tears, each drop a silent testimony to the shattered fragments of trust and the echoes of a relationship now irreparably fractured.

Heather's cries echoed in the confined space, a heartbreaking symphony that seemed to drown out all other sounds. In the midst of her emotional storm, a voice cut through the noise, gentle and concerned. "Are you okay?"

She emitted a sound that was a fusion of a choked sob and a raw groan, unable to lift her head to look at the source of the voice. "I should be," she managed to say between sobs, the words carrying the weight of a futile attempt to convince herself as much as whoever had inquired. The vulnerability in her voice betrayed the emotional turmoil that still gripped her, refusing to release its hold.

"What do you mean?" Another voice stuttered, meek and cowardly.

Heather took in a breath of air before she managed to let out a laugh—a hollow, mirthless sound. "It's just a game," she finally said, her words carrying a bitter resignation. "And we just lost."

A game, she thought, filled with empty promises of love, hollow words of praise, feelings of emptiness, and relationships built on a foundation of deceit.

It was a meaningless game, and in that moment, Heather felt like a pawn on a board where trust was a currency easily squandered. Yet, amidst the wreckage of what was once camaraderie, a realization struck her.

He had lost too.

He had lost all the love she had harbored for him, a love that had sustained her through the challenges of the game. The thought of him now mirrored the emptiness that had settled within her. In that shared loss, Heather found a strange comfort, a semblance of equilibrium in the aftermath of emotional turbulence.

The game had claimed its casualties, but as Heather wiped away tears and steadied her breathing, she began to see a different kind of victory—a victory over illusions, over false affections, and over a facade that had crumbled.

Heather got back up with a smile, the expression now wicked and devious. "But I'm not out of the game yet, so he's going to have to try harder." The glint of determination in her eyes spoke of a strategic shift, a silent promise that she wouldn't be a passive participant in this emotional chessboard.

With a newfound sense of cunning, Heather navigated the narrow aisle of the airplane. The game had changed, and so had she. As the clouds outside shifted, so did the dynamics of her journey. The smile on her face held a secret, a hint of mischief that hinted at the unfolding chapters of a story where she'd be the one holding the cards.