dollhouse // billy hargrove

twenty-three

heather's pov

when he turned around to look at me, my heart dropped. shattered even. i didn't care how he saw me anymore. my image as the heather pearson didn't matter. i was vulnerable with him.

he was just silent. staring at me with tired, bruised eyes. his lip was cracked and blood was dripping at the side of his mouth and from his nostrils. 

salty tears dripped down my face, stinging the cut below my eye. he put his thumbs to my face to wipe the tears that filled my waterline and grazed my cheek. 

he just stared at me, seeming almost lifeless. 

"billy, did you hear me? we have to get you to an emergency room. hospital. something." i repeat, cupping his face gently, trying not to induce any pain.

he opened his mouth, in which i hoped he would agree with me. but no words came out. he looked down, still holding onto my shoulders. his breathing got heavy. he nestled his head into the crook of my neck and cried. just cried.

i stood there holding him. my arms wrapped around the top of his back. 

"i just can't take it anymore." his voice trembles. 

i don't even want to tell him that it's going to be okay. because it's not. and i don't think it ever will be. i stand there, running my fingers through his hair.

"i understand, billy. i really do. you try your hardest to be your best. the best. but, nothing ever seems to be good enough." his head is still tucked into my neck. i feel his tears dripping down my neck. "and i'm telling you right now and you don't have to believe me or anything. but, you are good enough. you're good enough for this world." i paused, "for me."

"i still don't get how a heart like yours, care for someone with a heart like mine." he mumbles lifting his head up. 

because i have completely fallen head over heals for you, billy hargrove. the thoughts race in my mind, trying to find a sentence that would be right to say. 

i look into his eyes and say the bare minimum, "because you deserve it."

i press my hand against his cheek and his eyes keep on me.

"now can we please at least get you washed up?" i beg. my mom isn't home, and i'm not quite sure where she is. all i know is her car is gone, so that lifted my worries. 

i grab my keys from my purse and unlock the front door. i reach for billy's hand as i lead him inside the house to the bathroom.

i totally forgot about the bloody tissue that i never really took care of because i rushed out of the house. 

"what did happen?" billy says referencing my face, reaching his hand out to rub my cheek.

"it was just jess. don't worry about it. i'm fine." i say quick and short.

"you can't tell me not to worry about you. i always will. when or if you ever want to talk about it, i'm here. always." 

always was never a word i heard in a good context. 

always a mistake.

always ruin everything.

always deserve everything bad.

but, billy was sincere. he meant it. 

"thank you." i whisper trying not to choke up.

i turn on the sink and test the water to make sure it's lukewarm. i take a washcloth from the bathroom closet and bathe it underneath the faucet.

"let me know if this hurts you." i say as i reach the washcloth up to his eyebrow. i gently dab the washcloth onto the cut across his eyebrow, he flinches backwards. "do you want me to stop?" 

"no, it's okay. i just know what to expect now." he shrugs his shoulders.

i push myself up onto the counter so i can be eye level with him, instead of simply just reaching up and hoping for the best. 

i catch myself staring into his baby blue eyes. they seemed so pure and childish. almost as if his body was the only thing to grow up out of innocence. his soul still desperately craved for any love.

i rinse the washcloth from blood and continue to clean up other places on his face.

"you know they say history repeats itself." he says referencing the first time i insisted on helping him with his cut hand. 

"i swear you wanted to kill me that day." i giggle.

"my hand definitely healed faster than it would've without you. you must've put some type of secret treatment on it." he laughs looking down at his hand, the first laugh i've heard from him today.

i take his hand, looking at the fresh cuts from today, "you'll just have to stick around and just hope i tell you my secret one day."

i finish cleaning up billy, "good as new!"

"unfortunately, not like your shirt. i'm so so sorry, heather." he stumbles.

i look at my shirt in the mirror. blood stains cover my shoulder and my sleeves. it was definitely my fault for not rolling up my sleeves.

"don't worry about it." i smile at him, "i'll just change and throw them in the washer real quick."

i walk to my room and take off my shirt. i stare into my vanity mirror. my cut is healing better, although still sore and bruised a little. maybe billy has the secret treatment, too. 

billy gently opens the door.

"what is it? is something wrong, billy?" i scramble to reach for the plain black long-sleeved sweater that's balled up on my bed. 

"oh, my bad! i thought you would be done by now. i was just checking on you." he quickly turns around as he sees the panic in my face and he continues talking, "i just wanted to see if you wanted to do something, like after you're done, of course." 

"like what?" i question.

"i didn't really think that far into it. i just want to have fun tonight. with you." i meet him at the door of my room where he smiles at me, reaching for my hand. i comply, holding his hand in mine. his thumb gracefully massages the top of my hand in his.

we walked out of the door, unknowing of what the night brings. but we were willing to face anything, as long as we were together.