billie eilish mental health imagines

scars

"do you think i look okay?" i questioned.

my eyes darted to every inch of my body, struggling to find peace in the outfit that i had chosen.

i wouldn't feel comfortable in a hoodie in this heat but i hated the scars that were buried deep in my arms.

"you look beautiful in anything. the question is, do you feel comfortable in what you're wearing?" she replied.

i sighed.

"you don't do you?" she asked.

my eyes stared at the long sleeves that covered my arms, wanting nothing more than to rip them off and be free.

"come here." billie spoke, motioning for me to go to her.

i turned away from the mirror, moving towards where she was sat on the other side of the room.

billie began to unzip the hoodie, pulling it off my shoulders before completely removing it from my body.

"these don't define what you wear." she spoke, moving her fingers to trace little hearts around my scars.

i pulled away slightly because i wasn't used to my scars being touched in such a way.

it was a weird sensation to get used to when billie was trying to convince me to love them for a different reason.

"infact as much as you hate them, they tell a story and show your strength." she continued.

my eyes began to fill with tears, no one had ever spoken about my scars in that way, certainly not to my face.

and the way she was speaking truly made my hatred for them diminish very quickly.

"but everyone will stare." i muttered.

she lifted her eyes so that our gazes aligned.

"let them, all they will see is your beauty and even if they see the scars, they're still a part of your story." she told me.

it wasn't the worst idea that she'd had but it certainly wasn't one that i felt entirely comfortable with.

"i don't know billie." i sighed.

i wished that i had the confidence to just wear whatever i wanted but i didn't and probably never would.

"do whatever you feel comfortable with, i'm not here to force you to do anything." she told me.

but i did feel comfortable wearing my scars, however that was only when i was around billie.

no one else made me feel the way that she did about them and i knew that she would never judge me for them.

"i want to, i'm just scared." i spoke truthfully.

billie nodded, moving me closer towards her so that her arms wrapped around me.

"if you hadn't ridden a bike in years, you would be scared the first time you tried again wouldn't you?" she questioned.

i nodded, confused as to where she was going with this.

"and you wouldn't know whether you'd remember how to or not but still you'd get on the bike and try, right?" she continued.

once again i found myself nodding, agreeing with what she was saying although i was confused.

"but when you've get on the bike and start peddling for awhile, it all comes back to you and your confidence builds." she explained.

for some reason i found it funny that billie was comparing my scars to something so easy as riding a bike.

"it's not that easy billie." i told her.

she shook her head.

"it isn't but the mental process is the same, you'll never know unless you try." she told me.

my eyes wandered around the room as i balanced out the pros and cons in my mind, unsure of whether i could do it or not.

however if there's one thing billie's taught me, it's that if something scares me then i should at least try it once.

"okay." i sighed.

i truly wasn't sure whether it was a good idea but being with billie gave me the confidence to at least try.

"i'm so proud of you." she whispered.

for the first time in years, i left the house without a hoodie and wearing short sleeves.

i finally felt like i was free again.

______

a/n:

another thing i can't check because i'm crying, sorry it's short as well but i hope it's okay.