sempiternal (billie eilish)

eyes on fire

inspo: eyes on fire, blue foundation

A/N: a new story with a different type of main character than my usual :)

~

I'll seek you out, flay you alive, one more word and you won't survive

Billie's POV:

I always keep my head down, only ever glancing up from my journal if someone comes a little too close, or if I'm dodging one of the spoiled rich guys tossed footballs in the quad. It feels like any other day in this place that looks like some in between purgatory, the place they'd send you if you're not bad enough to go to hell, but also not special enough to belong in heaven. Marble slabs instead of benches, everything made out of brick or deep brown shining wood, stone arches and tiles, gates and dormitories. The architecture used to impress me on my first day, until I realized it's the surface that holds mean, rich kids tight like gum under a desk, while I'm the water droplet that always seems to run off surfaces, never holding on.

I chew mint gum as a sort of barrier to keep myself from grinding my teeth when I'm anxious, and at this point, the teachers have learned to ignore it rather than to keep making me spit it out, in front of the class while everyone snickers. Jokes get old after a while, and when bullies realize that you're not going to stop doing the thing they make fun of you for, they have to find another piece of your identity to pick apart.

I look up when I can sense a change in the atmosphere. Maybe it's the way everyone turned to stop and stare at her entrance, and I felt the pull of their eyes landing on her, well, everything. The way she walks, striding, a pace not too slow, not too fast, like she knows how to belong. Her icy silver hair with streaks of purple, dark black sunglasses covering her face, and the way she seems to not notice everyone wearing a uniform.

I pull my leather bound journal up to my face, only my eyes peeking over at this new girl. I feel a pull, a want to get to know her, to find a friend in this place for once, but I know it could never happen. All of the popular girls will wrap her up tight in their chains and the boys will take turns pining for her. She'll have nothing to do with me, I'd be too shy to even speak.

And just like magic, the three girls pounce, and I overhear them raising their voices an octave, complimenting her outfit, her hair, asking her name, where'd she come from. She doesn't tell them anything, just smiles with these shockingly white teeth, flips her hair, and says she has to go meet the headmaster before classes start. They say they'll show her the way of course, and that's when it happens, as they get closer to me sitting underneath an arch, tucked away behind a bush.

"No, I've got it," her voice lowers, and I shiver at the sound, how it chills you and makes you lose your breath. I panic, realizing she'll have to pass underneath my arch to get to his office. I cower closer to the ground, feeling like some ugly troll guarding the bridge in her presence. When I hear her high-heeled boots getting closer, I keep my head down, inside my journal, refusing to look up. I hear a pause in the footsteps, then notice her turning, walking to me. I still don't look up, until she clears her throat, and I slowly look up into her eyes, as she stands right above me.

"Why are you looking up my skirt?" she breaks the silence and I immediately start coughing, averting my gaze to my hands in embarrassment.

"I'm just fucking around, dude," she smiles, drops down to her knees in front of me.

"I like your hair, Billie," she reaches out and twirls a piece of my blue hair around her finger, and my jaw drops in shock. She knows my name.

"It's on your journal, silly," she taps a finger to the front cover, and I quickly slam it shut.