Billie Eilish Imagines | my love

Bartender

long as shit dude ( talking abt my dick )
billies like 6'1 in this

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Y/N's POV

I just moved from California to New York. I just needed something different, you know? I mean I've been there for 21 years, I've already seen everything there. Been to Disneyland, San Francisco, Hollywood, everywhere, and it all feels fake, like nothing is genuine. Like it's all a money grab if that makes sense. So, I moved to New York. I've been writing my second book, and I've moved into an apartment with a good view of just the city. I write a lot about fantasy, but realistic people. So they view of everyone walking and interacting with each other, people catching cabs, going into stores and coming out with full bags, and I especially have a hard time visualizing what characters look like, so I get inspiration from people's outfits, and hair, and especially since this is New fucking York, I've already seen so much within the first 6 days of being here.

I've been trying to write for the past hour, but I'm having major writers block. I have so many ideas to add onto this chapter, so I decided to just take a break, and go have fun. This is New York after all, and I haven't even done anything but write. I'm going to a bar that's just a block down the street from my apartment.

So, I'm sitting at the counter alone, too socially awkward to order myself a drink. I'm fiddling with my fingers, looking down at them. I hear a raspy low voice say "Sweetheart, you gonna get a drink?" I looked up to see a black haired woman, her eyes ice blue, her lips a light pink color, they looked soft. I look to her hands, which where veiny, her fingers covered in silver rings, her neck holding several silver chains and necklaces. My eyes go back to her hands, which where smoothly handling a cup and multiple bottles and syrups, skillfully making some sort of margarita.

"Sweetheart you good?" Holy shit I just forgot to respond. "I- Uhm yeah- I haven't really ever drank much, what would y-you recommend?" I ask nervously, jesus she was hot. Like hot hot. She nods and starting making my drink, then hands it to me. It was kind of tinted purplish grey, with a lime on the side of the glass. I start going through my bag to find my wallet, but right as I'm about to pull it out, she talks again. "Don't worry about it, drink's on me love. Don't tell the other people they're gonna get all pissy."

Jesus christ she's making me feel weird, I don't know. I've always been straight, but this girl is literally killing me. "Th-thank you, uh-" She hadn't told me her name yet. "Billie."  "Thank you, Billie." "No problem mamas. Where're you from?" She asked and oh my fucking god. "C-California, you?" I ask, making it her turn to talk. I was stuttering bad again, this girl is making me nervous. I can't tell if it's from my crippling social anxiety, or my brain is all of a sudden saying I'm not straight anymore.

"From New York, why'd you leave California?" For fuck's sake, I have to talk again. worst nightmare. "It just got boring I guess." I tried to keep it simple and short. "Alright, you like your drink?" I nod. "You're cute, can I get your number?" I was shocked by her question, I mean we met like a minute ago. She was hot, and I was nervous, and a little bit drunk, and might have kinda sorta maybe given her my number.

So, here I am, sitting on my bed holding my phone, waiting impatiently for her to text me first. Wait, I don't like her, it was just a little- thing. I don't know dude.

I sigh, and put my phone down on my nightstand, flopping back on my bed. I hear a ding sound and immediately sat up and picked up my phone. Y/N. Calm the fuck down. She texted me.

Billie: Hey, you free later tonight?

Y/n: Yeah, what time?

Billie: Does 9 work?