Murder City

Chapter Twelve

12 | Aurora Bennett

"This is it." I whisper to no-one, admiring myself in the mirror. I chose to wear one of Billie's tee-shirts, partnered with jeans I got for myself yesterday. Living with him is hard, not because of him, but because of what lead me to be here. I want to go home, but home hasn't felt like 'home' in a while. 

Over the last three weeks, I've had to buy myself clothes, to restock my wardrobe as I couldn't go back to get my old clothing. To be honest, I purposely got only two shirts so I'd have to wear Billie's when I couldn't wear them. I think Billie knew my plan from the start, but he's acting oblivious. I like that about him. I can't help it, his smell only makes me want him more. I feel as though I'm blocking myself from being with him, telling myself that I'm not ready when I am. I don't know if I am. You're not supposed to jump from relationship to relationship in less than a month, right? Especially since I haven't truly ended it with Fletcher.

A part of me, the stupidest goddamn part of me, misses him. I miss the start of our relationship, when he'd make me laugh so hard I cried. When he'd call me the most beautiful girl ever. When he'd take me on so many dates. When he'd wrap his arm around me, holding onto me for too long, until he'd kiss me and pull away. I allow myself to smile at those moments. Just because he's harmed me, that doesn't make it so I can't look back on the good times, missing them deeply. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. I was a girl back then.

 A girl to him. 

I was someone-or in his eyes, something/ Something that he could manipulate and control. Something he could give a set of rules. I lived like that. I lived through that. Its wild how I can look back now and say "Yeah, I survived that." I thought it would never end, but now that its gone I can reminisce on the good, and avoid the bad.

Theres a conversation me and Fletcher need to have, but I just can't have it yet. 

I swing my purse over my shoulder, just in time for Billie to come into the guest room, where I've been sleeping for the past few weeks, with an adorable smile across his face. "You look beautiful." He gasps, his eyes tracing every detail of my body. I twist a strand of hair around my finger, swiftly tucking it behind my ear. "Thanks." Is all I'm able to get out. I already feel the heat in my face rising, luckily his face is a light shade of red too.

We slowly walk outside together, side by side. The wind gently blowing, my hair falling out of place. His car is parked outside his garage, I thought it was strange that he always parked it there. He's the kind of guy who loves his cars more than himself, and leaving one out in the rain and other weather periods seemed alien to me. He told me his garage was "Too full" before showing me his collection of other vintage cars, all shiny and almost brand-new looking.

 His house is massive, a thousand times bigger than Fletcher and I's place. The rooms are all neatly decorated, cleaned, and dusted. It feels like I'm walking into an expensive Ikea display room, as everything looks like home, except more perfect. His house comes with many guest rooms, with one converted into a home studio. He told me he wanted to play me a song a few nights ago, but we never got around to it. He seemed quite giddy about playing this song for me, telling me I'd really like it. 

He opens the passenger side door, holding it open for me. "Thanks." I smile, sitting down. I rummage through my purse, finding my handheld mirror, snapping it open to look at the damage done to my hair. I begin to straighten it with my fingers as Billie climbs into the drivers side, pulling out of the driveway. 

The drive is slow, silent, and familiar. 

I can practically name each tree which passes by. The buildings shorten as we drive through to the more 'rural' parts of the city. "So, where are you from?" Billie asks, making light conversation. "Well..." I haven't been given the chance to talk about my past in so long that I feel like I've forgotten parts of it. "my mom...she's from Texas. She moved here after college, met my dad and they had me." God, you did not need all that detail "And 25 years later, here I am!" Shut up, Aurora.