slut [ eddie munson ]

the fight

Talia Wheeler flinched, not expecting the harsh knock on her bedroom window. Her gaze snapped to it, the girl letting out a sigh as her eyes locked with Billy Hargrove's blue ones. She wasn't happy to see him—not after he'd been such an asshole earlier in the day.

He banged his fist against the glass again when she made no inclination of moving. Talia shot him a glare, throwing her blanket off before standing from her bed and making her way to her door. She locked it, then went and slid open her window.

"What?" She snapped slightly, blocking his entrance. Billy stared blankly at her for a moment, sending a chill down her spine. His eyes slowly softened, almost unnaturally.

"I just want to talk," Billy said.

Talia huffed, backing away from the window to give him room to climb in. He did so quickly, taking the time to shut the window after. Her arms crossed in front of her, jaw locked as she stared at him. She hopelessly searched his face for some sort of inclination of what he was feeling, but the dim lighting cast by her bedside lamp made it difficult. Billy clasped his hands together as he stared back, a tired look on his face.

"Well?" The Wheeler girl finally spoke after a few moments, "You said you want to talk yet haven't said shit."

Billy sighed, running a hand down his face before moving further into her room. Talia backed away slightly, hiding a flinch as the back of her knees met her bed. Billy didn't seem to notice her unease, instead continuing to move closer until he was right in front of her.

A frown settled on Talia's face, "What happened to your cheek?" Her hand reached out, ghosting over the wound on his skin for just a moment before Billy harshly grabbed it. He didn't want her touching him.

"It's nothing," he grit out, his tight grip loosening slightly. She yanked her arm down, pulling it to her chest protectively.

"Whatever," Talia said, features hardening, "Sorry for being worried about you—it's not like I'm your girlfriend or anything, right?" Billy rolled his eyes, turning his head away from her briefly as his jaw clicked.

"Don't do that," he spit out, "I have a lot of shit going on right now, Talia. The last thing I need is for you to be getting all bitchy and emotional."

"A lot of shit going on? What the fuck could have happened in the past few days that would explain why you're being such a douche to me today, huh?" Talia was mad—she was hurt, "I mean, what the fuck was that about earlier?"

"Nothing you would understand, sweetheart."

"What the fuck does that mean?" Her voice was slowly rising in volume. Billy just sighed again.

"Forget it. I don't want to fucking keep going on and on about shit that does not matter."

"Doesn't matter?" Talia echoed, disbelief falling over her features, "Maybe it 'doesn't matter' to you, but it does to me. Something is wrong with you—why can't you just talk to me? If you're feeling upset or burdened by shit, then I want you to be able to talk to me about it. I don't want you bottling it all up, Billy, okay? I...I know that you don't like talking about your feelings, but I would never—"

"God, can you just shut up?"

Talia's face fell, tears burning at her eyes. Her jaw clenched as her bottom lip wobbled, the brunette girl desperately fighting back the sob begging to escape. She didn't get why he was acting this way when all she wanted was to be there for him—to understand.

Billy backed away from her abruptly, beginning to angrily pace the short length of her room. Talia's arms hugged her torso, the teenager feeling unsure as a harsh coldness settled in the air. She flinched when his hand shot out, grabbing hold of the glass jewelry dish that laid on her desk. It shattered as it slammed against her bedroom wall—a cup that she had drank from earlier in the day met the same fate shortly after.