𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 | billie eilish

024

wednesday - february 17, 2021

𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧
𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟑, 𝟗:𝟒𝟓𝐚𝐦
𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬

An unanticipated knock on the door–as gentle as her voice–deflects the meticulous movements of my right hand as I steadily apply pitch black mascara to my eyelashes.

My bloodshot eyes hastily roam the opaque material that is covering my body entirely before I reply with the words 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗻; my voice sounding unwontedly stifled.

I am unaccustomed to being in a persistent, yet voluntary state of physical presence of others. Be that as it may, her ethereal presence never ceases to mesmerize and give solace to me.

She opens the door and slips into the bathroom within seconds.

The impeccable, powerful outward appearance and flirty nature of hers, her mature and simultaneously juvenile demeanor are aspects I start adjusting to at a leisurely, careful pace.

Trust hasn't yet been fully established between the both of us, though.

Prior to inquiring after my sincere state of health, she compliments the way the mascara accentuates my weary, emerald eyes.

"I'm okay, really," I chuckle but scrunch up my nose immediately; a habitual undertone of self-hatred and misery evincing my feelings flawlessly. "I didn't cry."

"That's why you were trying to muffle your sobs an hour ago, hm?" Billie points out an undebatable matter of fact and reclines against the door.

"Shut up," I murmur jocularly, however, apologetic words sound rapidly from my mouth. "It actually were some type of overjoyed tears for once."

Her eyebrows exclusively curve upwards in confusion.

"My mom gave me my dad's number again, so I texted him this morning, explained the situation, and he said he'd come to visit us within the next few weeks."

His message truly overwhelmed me with intense sentiments of ecstasy.

"I'm pretty sure he's glad to see you again," she remarks almost immediately, her low voice resounding mellifluously around the room as usual.

The night afore Sunday was the night I slept beside Billie, and Billie rested beside me during the past one.

When she's absent from my presence, a strong feeling of melancholy strikes me. I long for the sight of her precious smile and the resonance of her gleeful laugh.

I spend minutes sitting in front of my phone, anticipating any form of message she sends me, and I grow nervous when she passes me in the hallways.

Nonetheless, I'm still in firm denial of the factual emergence of impassioned feelings between the both of us.

Putting all doubts aside, in all likelihood I'll be enamored of her in a few weeks.

A couple more minutes elapse as we chat, and once we're finished in the bathroom, we head directly downstairs to breakfast on some fresh fruit and cereal.

Just like last time, we quickly come to the conclusion of settling down in the armchairs outside, as Billie had desired earlier.