what you can't have (b.e.)

this is home

a/n: short and... sweet? also goddamn I told myself I'd come out before college and I started by saying "men are trash" and then my dad was like "but you like conan gray..." I give up I tried lmao

inspo: this is home, cavetown

~

My eyes went dark, I don't know where my pupils are...

Mila's POV:

"Yo, it's 2 p.m..." Billie's voice speaking softly in my ear interrupts my light sleep and I let out a groan mixed with laughter.

"We missed school... what a shame," I come back with fake concern and Billie rustles my hair and starts to drag me out of bed. She was clearly up before me and I wonder how long she spent watching me sleep, just the thought of it makes me blush and I quickly hide my face in the cotton sheets.

We walk out of her room to an empty house, I guess when Maggie grounded us she really meant stay at home. Billie starts making breakfast and the rush of waking up to her drops off a cliff when I remember last night. I feel so embarrassed that she had to see me like that, so vulnerable and broken. But she's still here, and that makes me feel safe knowing she isn't scared of me. But... why?

She sets a plate in front of me, reminding me without saying the words that I said I would try. And I'm going to, even though I don't want to. I just hope that it'll all get easier, that some time later in the future I won't even have to think about eating, I'll just do it.

I glance at the two pieces of toast and feel relieved that shes letting me dip my toes in the water rather than pushing me off the high dive. Of course, it's Billie. She just knows so much already, about me, about life. It makes me feel really stupid sometimes, crying over food when she's dealing with new fame and making music for the world to hear. At the same time, in those moments, she makes me feel like my issues are valid, in a world where people shove disorders under the rug and call people who are hurting 'fake depressed.'

I reach down to take a bite when she grabs my wrist to stop me. Deep down, a flash of relief fills me, morphing into dread when she pushes a tub of peanut butter towards me. My head shakes without thinking, on instinct.

"No, I can't."

"You can, okay? I'm here, what do you need to make it easier?" Billie asks, but it sounds more like pleading. I close my eyes and tell myself I can do this, and it feels a little easier already, putting power to words.

"This is gonna sound stupid-" I start, already cringing before my request.

"Anything."

"Can you like... sing?" I pick up my hands to cover up my face as soon as I say it, when Billie holds them in her palms and brings them down so that I see her looking at me.

"I've been watching you for some time..."

I breathe out and smear some of it on the toast, trying my best to forget the calories and numbers screaming 'no' in my head. I tune that voice out and listen to Billie's instead.

Billie stops singing for a second when I take a bite, grinning like a little kid in a candy store. Her smile is contagious and I almost can't swallow from the muscles aching in my cheeks. She continues, her voice reaching levels that doesn't even seem possible, until she proves that it is. Billie is walking proof of everything, of individuality, finding strength in her weaknesses, and anything else you could think of, she's got it.

When I finish eating, Billie's still singing, her eyes closed and nose scrunching up, revealing little dimples in her cheeks. I just watch and listen like it's a private concert, tears building up when the last note rings out from her lips.

When she opens up her eyes again, there are tears in hers too. She looks at the empty plate and her bottom lip quivers. I reach over the table and wipe away teardrops before they can fall, leaving my hand resting under her jaw.

"I'm so proud of you, Mila."

My vision blurs and I let my head fall a little, feeling shy from her attention.

"We're literally both crying because I ate two pieces of bread," I brush it aside, not wanting to build up her hopes. I don't know what's going to happen, and I couldn't ever tell her that even though she thinks of this as a little victory, part of me thinks of it as a huge loss.

"With peanut butter," Billie chimes in and a weak laugh escapes my lips. It's her turn to wipe away my tears, and she slides into the chair beside me, I fall into her lap crying. She thinks it's from being happy and maybe there is some of that but I can't push away the overwhelming guilt, and then the anxiety over feeling guilty when I know I shouldn't.

Billie presses her lips on top of my head and I let myself fly from her touch.

"Baby steps, okay?" she whispers and I want to listen and cover my ears at the same time. I don't know what's right or wrong anymore, except with her. Nothing's ever felt more right.

But I'll figure out a way to get us out of here...