IF WE WERE MEANT TO BE // Billie Eilish

Chapter Thirty - A World Without You

Francis' PoV:

I put the phone down. Billie looks at me, desperate for an answer. As I fail to give her one, she realises he didn't make it.

"He was in love with me. That's what the letter wrote." I say coldly. "He'd been out of town because he was arranging for my work to be an exhibition in the Tate Modern Art Gallery in London. He didn't answer my calls because he was worried he would give it away. When he arrived home, he saw the article. And then he-" My words cut off, not being physically able to complete the sentence.

"Francis, it's not your fault. You can't control your feelings."

"I'm so fucking tired of my feelings!" I scream. "All they do is hurt people because the only person I feel for is you."

"If you're thinking of Elliott, remember what that bitch-"

"I don't care that she posted the photo of us. She almost got physically fucking abused by Mike because I fell for you and not her. And Luke abused himself because I couldn't feel about him the way I do about you." I run my hands through my hair in frustration, tugging at the roots.

"Yo, that's bullshit. You didn't ask them to do what they did." She protests.

I pant, regaining my breath after my outburst. Looking up into Billies eyes, I see a tear fall down them as I say. "I love you. And I can't - it comes at much too high a cost. I won't hurt anyone else because of the way I feel about you."

This is the first time I'm admitting that I'm in love with her, yet my words feel like I'm saying the opposite. I walk towards her and cup her face, fighting my own emotions. Her faces turns to the side and she kisses my palm, before holding it in hers and bringing it to her lap. We both look down at my hand, scars covering it from when I fell the first night we met.

"I'm Billie." She grins. I recognise that same flirtatious look she gave me before.

"Francis." I reply, still in shock.

She smiles. I can see thoughts racing through her mind. I want to know what they're saying.

But instead, I fall to the ground and before Billie can catch me again, my ass is on the floor.

"Fuck, are you okay, dude?" She asks, instantly dropping to the floor, too.

I sit there for a second, completely frozen. Then, suddenly, I burst out laughing - I can't help it. Billie starts grinning, trying to hold back her laughter, but after a few seconds we are both cackling at the top of our voices as we sit on the grubby alleyway. As the laughter grows, I unintentionally lean towards her, resting my forehead against hers. But, when the grinning comes to a stop, I don't pull away, and neither does she.

I feel her grab my hand. Looking down, I see lots of tiny cuts all over my palm from when I fell on the floor. Her smile immediately fades. With her other hand, she lightly traces over the cuts with her finger. I inhale sharply from the pain, making a hissing sound. She pulls her forehead away from mine and I see a concerned look on her face.

Not caring about my hand, I pull it away and smile at her.

"No, dude." She says seriously, taking my bleeding hand back in hers. She bites the sleeve of her jumper on her other hand and uses her teeth to pull it up, covering her fingers. Then, she softly presses the cloth on my cuts, stopping the bleeding.

She sits there for a few minutes, patting my cuts with her jumper. I smile to myself, noticing her tongue sticking out from the side of her mouth as she focuses. I can't help but watch her - she's so beautiful.