sempiternal (billie eilish)

supermassive black hole

inspo: supermassive black hole, muse

A/N: this is gonna be a slow burn

~

You caught me under false pretenses, how long before you let me go?

Billie's POV:

I wake up to her gone, she feels so missing even when she's right there in front of me, that I question if she was even in my bed at all. She feels supernatural, and I can't tell if that's because she's different than anyone I've known, or because her personality, her everything, is crafted and calculated. And even if I ask her to tell the truth on anything, I can't be sure if she'll tell it, or just what she thinks I want to hear.

It feels like a game, and like I'm constantly playing the wrong moves. Maybe if she's treating me like a pawn, I can be that, to my advantage, testing to see how far she goes, and messing up her plans.

I think she thinks I'm stupid, easy to read and figure out, she needs me to break so she can protect me.

But she's still winning, because she's gotten in my head.

And that's what she wants, so I'll do the opposite: just stop caring, stop showing interest.

I start getting ready, wincing as I apply makeup to my eye, blending until it looks as normal as it can.

I disappear, just like her, searching for a new hiding spot, one that she's never found me in. I have no classes today, just time dedicated to study. I find a spot in the library, the back section nobody goes to, amongst the bookshelves, and spread my stuff across the floor.

Thirty minutes in, I'm feeling that burning urge to cry in frustration. Juliet just comes in, circles all the right answers, thinking she's helping me. But what happens when I fail the next test, and it's clear I must have cheated to have done well on the last one? She's not helping me, she's trying to get me to rely on her. I need to do this on my own, but I stare at swarming letters and numbers and hate the math and the science with everything in me.

I pull out my old test, a big, red D+ written on the first page, with a 'apply yourself,' written underneath the grade. I confront all of my mistakes and search the textbook for answers. I'll find them myself.

Juliet's POV:

I thought I was a fool for no one, but ooh baby I'm a fool for you...

I wake up at 6:30, slipping out of bed fast and quick before she'll notice. I get on my workout clothes and start running as soon as I make it outside, slipping in my earbuds.

I start slow for me, a believable pace if anybody walking past saw me. I slip through the gate, heading for the forest and trails where I don't have to watch for anybody around me. As soon as I make it to the head of the trail, I pick it up. It's always been my best skill, running fastest and the farthest than the rest of my "family." They'll never catch me. Not the ones I've hurt, not the cops, nobody will ever catch me. I just wish, more than anything sometimes, someone would at least try. It gets so boring sometimes, slipping through the cracks. I want the drama, the pressure of getting caught. People are so easy to fool, because we live in this world where nobody believes in fairytales anymore. It's all about "growing up," and facing "the real world." Humans wouldn't know the real world if it was staring them right in the face.

I stop right in my tracks at a tree, sensing somebody near. I climb up the tree, fast, peeking down to see a middle-aged man running slow as fuck with his dog, a small Jack Russell terrier, on a leash. The poor dog wants to go faster, tugging at the leash. The man gets angry, yanking at the leash, bringing his dog closer, and kicks him until he stops whining. I feel my skin go cold. And I feel my brain telling me not to do it. I can control my hunger, except when I'm angry. If I can keep myself under control, not hurting anything or anybody unless I have to, why can't he be a nice fucking owner?