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

sis

A/N: FUCK IT i'm starting a new billie book because this idea can't wait, i'm gonna just make it real quick like an intro chapter so y'all can save it--only if you want to though lol

inspo: sis, clairo

~

Feelings are so fragile, egos are always blown

Mila's POV:

Heather opens the door and grins at Billie, her smile quickly fading when she studies Billie's expression. I wonder where to go now, do I slip back into this apartment, wait here, follow Billie inside? Is she even going inside?

"Did you forget something?" Heather asks, then looks over Billie's shoulder at me. I decide, no, I'm fine right here, behind my girl. She can't make me shrink away any longer.

"I should ask you that," Billie fake laughs and I would be so intimidated if I were Heather. For once, I don't want to be her.

"What--"

"Nah, fuck this. I'm not gonna do this play dumb shit. You know what you did, you're caught. I don't ever want to see you again, now give me back my fucking sweater," Billie cuts her off, then looks back at me, smiling for a quick second.

"Mila's sweater," she corrects herself, and I don't hide anything, my cheeks flushing pink.

"Billie, please. You don't get it--" Heather tries to give an explanation, and Billie pushes past her to find the sweater herself. I awkardly stand for a second, then whisper, 'fuck it,' and I chase after Billie. I feel Heather right behind me.

Billie's throwing shit everywhere, and I kinda think she knows where the sweater is, and just wants to break stuff. I mean, she really has to know the sweater's not in the fridge, but it doesn't stop her from throwing an entire gallon of milk on the floor. It splashes up and Heather wipes it off her face, trying to grab Billie, while I sit and watch with the slightest bit of a smirk.

"Billie-- I know you're mad. But you have to admit, the two weeks we were together were better than whatever you had with Mila. You told me everything-- you're not good for each other, but we are," Heather throws me under the bus completely. I feel my heart sink at the 'you told me everything.' I don't want Heather to know a single fucking thing about me, but I understand why Billie would do that.

Billie freezes, chest rising up and down, she whips around, jaw dropped. She lunges across the countertop, grabs a fruit bowl and throws it at the wall, some of them exploding at the pressure.

"You don't even exist; I have no idea who is in front of me. Everything we had was because of a lie," Billie snaps, but I can see this is getting to her in more than just the angry places. Tears stream down her cheeks, maybe at the time we lost, at another setback for us, at the frustration of being manipulated.

Then without another word, she walks into Heather's room and grabs the sweater out of the closet, the hanger clattering to the floor in the dead silence. She snatches my hand in hers as she walks past and I almost trip as she drags me along out of the door. I have to hold her back from running down to the stairs right away so I can grab my bags.

When we're in the car and Billie slams her door shut, she collapses in tears, slamming her fists against the steering wheel. She presses the horn for five seconds straight and my ears pop. I reach across the space between our seats and wrap my arms around her, holding her as tight as possible at an awkward angle. Billie rests her head on my shoulder, until her breathing starts to slow down back to normal. After a few minutes of holding her like this, I whisper softly:

"Can we go home?"

She nods and smiles at the last word, taking a deep breath in and pushing it out with all the bad.