Would you Swallow all your Pride?

Chapter Thirty-Two: Madder.

The ride home was anything but sweet. Billie Dean yawned nonstop, and her lower lip got caught between her teeth time and time again out of sheer overthinking. Why the fuck do I feel like crying? Billie didn't understand... she sniffled as she stopped at a red light, reaching to wipe a tear away. Didn't understand was really a lie, though; she knew why she was crying, she knew why she felt so damn bad and so damn defeated and like everything always failed for her. She was in love with Wilhemina... and Wilhemina had her neck full of hickeys from another woman, Wilhemina touched her like a friend would, Wilhemina saw her with no second intentions. And she desperately craved those second intentions. But she couldn't do anything about it. She couldn't tell her how she felt, she couldn't hold her hand and hope for her to hold it back the way she did. She had to think about Wilhemina first, about the journey she supposed Wilhemina had on finding someone, about her feelings and fears and about how much she had grown in the little time they had known one another. How was it fair to ruin it? How was it fair to come between her and Emma? I just can't. Billie Dean sniffled again as she began to drive. I want to sleep. Billie wanted to stop thinking for a second and to stop feeling for a second and to stop wanting and longing for a woman she could not have. "Fuck!" Billie yelled to herself. Tears roamed freely on her face now, cascading down her cheeks and eventually drying or falling down to her lap. She was so damn tired of this game, of having to deal with her mind and having to deal with everything all the fucking time. I need a cigarette. How long had it been ever since she had last smoked? Billie rushed way more than she should in the streets, getting home in nearly half the time she was supposed to have gotten. Tears still streamed down her face, and when she stepped outside in her garage, Billie Dean yanked her purse and rushed her fingertips to grab a cigarette and push it between her lips. She took a long, slow drag. Her eyes closed, wet eyelashes clumping together. Fuck my life. Billie Dean leaned against the wall, purse hanging from her forearm and cigarette between her fingers. Finally her thoughts gave her a break. The tears began to dry out as she took drag after drag of her cigarette. The smell of tobacco filled her lungs and relaxed her in a way she didn't exactly appreciate, but couldn't live without. Once the cigarette was nearly gone, honey eyes opened again. Billie stared at nothing at all from the distance. I can't keep doing that.

With ragged steps and sniffling the remaining of her tears away, Billie Dean walked to the door of her house. She reached for her purse and blindly rummaged for her keys; they were nowhere to be found. Just what I needed. With a frustrated sigh, she hastily opened her purse and leaned it on her hip, hands clumsily and harshly looking through the many items there. All of a sudden, the coral notebook she had gotten from Venable fell down to the floor. Billie Dean stared at it. She stood there, purse against her hip, eyes glued on the notebook. And then she gulped. And her mind stopped. She thought of Wilhemina once again, and all the emotions that had given her a break came crashing down yet again. And then her mind snapped. Quickly, she bent down to grab the notebook and got back into the car. Something in her chest lit up. If I'm going to distance myself, I might as well deserve a chance. She already had the 'no', after all. But... was it fair? Billie Dean hesitated as she sat down on the driver's seat again. Wilhemina had already been through so much, it seemed... was any of that fair? Was it fair to pull away? Was it fair to tell her how she felt? Was it fair to not tell her how she felt? Billie Dean didn't know. She didn't know anything besides the fact that she was hurting and she had to get it over with and fuck! She didn't know anything! A loud scream got out of her lips before she could stop it, deep from her soul and attempting to shut her mind. It echoed inside the car. Her thoughts stopped. And so Billie Dean turned the car on and began to drive again. Inside her chest, Billie's heart sped up; it only had one hope: to be able to finally kiss Wilhemina. A blissful and almost dream-like cloud fueled her brain; was she really doing that? Was she finally doing that? Was it a good thing? Was it a bad thing? What if she says no? but also What if she says yes? And what a contrast of emotions and feelings and Gosh, she wanted another cigarette and she wanted to turn around and go home but her foot pressed harder on the gas instead, and she kept on driving and driving towards Wilhemina's house. Not one thought was coherent enough.