Fangs Of Desire |B.E

Life hurts us all

Rachel's POV:

The thing that suddenly woke me up was soft patting on my window. Through the thin curtains in the room, I saw streams of raindrops running down it, the sky shrouded in dark clouds. I blinked awake, stretching lazily as I took in the unfamiliar surroundings. With a gentle yawn, I slipped out of bed, my feet finding the cool, wooden floor. I padded quietly to the door and opened it, careful not to make a sound. I didn't want to wake Billie, who was still sleeping in her room upstairs. The house was eerily silent, save for the faint hum of the fridge.

I made my way to the kitchen, the promise of coffee spurring my movements. I quickly found the coffee maker and set it to brew, relishing the rich, earthy aroma that began to fill the room. As the coffee dripped, I glanced around, taking in the modest yet cozy decor. It felt homey and lived-in, a stark contrast to my own place.

With a steaming mug in hand, I moved to the living room. I settled into a plush armchair, my eyes wandering over the various photos adorning the walls and shelves. There were countless pictures of Billie with her family. The images were warm and happy, yet there was something off, something I couldn't quite place. I picked up a framed photo from the shelf above the fireplace.

In the photo there was Billie, an older woman and a man, as well as a guy who looked a little older than Billie. Everyone stood smiling, hugging each other, but I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something strange about this family, not scary, just slightly different, beyond the ordinary, I would say.

Lost in thought, I nearly jumped out of her skin when I heard a soft, almost imperceptible sound behind me. I turned quickly, my heart racing, to find Billie standing in the doorway, watching me with an amused glint in her eyes. "Good morning." Billie said softly, her voice angelic as always. "God, you scared me! I didn't hear you come in." I let out a nervous laugh, placing my hand over my chest. Billie smiled, a hint of mystery in her expression. "Sorry about that. I'm a light sleeper." She said.

She walked closer to me and I reliesed that I still had the photo in my hand. "Sorry, um I shouldn't grab your things." I handed it to her. "It's okay... you're just being curious." "It's your family right?" I asked. "Yeah." She sighed still smiling, but now a bit sadly. "Finneas - my brother right here," She pointed at the red head guy. "and our parents - Maggie and Patrick." Her smile almost completly fade away by now. "They must be amazing parents..." "They were." She said slightly above a whisper and her eyes welled up with tears as she put the photo back at the shelf between all the rest of them. In my palm I grabbed her cheek and with my thumb I wiped a tear running down it.

The tenderness of the moment took my breath away. The tear on Billie's cheek, wiped away by my thumb, felt like the most intimate gesture I'd ever made. I could see the depth of her pain, but also the strength she carried within her. "I'm sorry," Billie whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "It's just... talking about them brings back so many memories." I nodded my hand still cuping her cheek. "It's okay, Billie. You don't have to apologize for your feelings. I'm here for you."

She leaned into my touch, closing her eyes for a moment as if drawing strength from our connection. When she opened them again, there was a gratitude that made my heart swell. "Thank you, Rachel," she said softly. "I don't usually let people in like this. But with you... it feels right." I felt a surge of emotion, the intensity of our bond overwhelming in the best possible way. "I'm glad you feel that way. I want to be someone you can trust, someone you can rely on." Billie gave a small, appreciative smile. "You already are." We stood like that for a moment, wrapped in the silent understanding of our growing feelings. The rain continued it's gentle patter against the window, the room filled with a serene stillness.

Billie broke the eye contact and slowly aproached the nearest window. "You wanna stay longer? I mean the weather isn't too nice." She asked with hope in voice, looking out the window. "Sure, if it's not a problem for-" "It's not a problem, darling... Please, don't think like that, like... you're not wanted here."

I smiled, her words bringing a warmth that chased away any lingering hesitation. "Thank you, Billie. I'd love to stay."

Billie’s face lit up with a relieved smile. “Great. How about we make some breakfast? I know just the thing to warm us up on a rainy morning.”

I followed her to the kitchen, watching as she moved with that same effortless grace. It was like she was gliding rather than walking, each step almost too perfect.

"Tell me something about you... you're life, family." She asked the worst question possibile. Billie saw my expression change to a bit sad look. "Hey," She placed her hand on my shoulder as a comforting gesture. "I won't force you to talk about things that are... hard for you. But remember, you have free space here and I'm not gonna jugde you about anything. I wanna listen... same as, when you listened to me. Okay?"

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of Billie’s words. The tenderness in her eyes made it clear she genuinely wanted to know more about me, to understand my story. It was comforting, but also terrifying. Opening up about my life was never easy, but something about Billie made me want to share. "Alright." I leaned to the counter. Then I started my story.

"So, um... as you know already I live in the suburbs of LA. I lived there with my uncle Sam. He raiced me... 'cause... my parents, they abandoned me when I was a few months old. They lived outside the law, stole, were drug dealers and took some shit themselves. My father, under the influence, almost beat some guy to death and was convicted for it, and my mother disappeared somewhere after that incident. Now... I don't even know if they're alive, but I honestly don't give a damn about them. The only person who cared about me was my uncle. He wanted to give me life, he wanted to fix what his shitty brother broke. He was the best person, the best dad I could ask for. He... died in an accident on his motorcycle a few months ago. That knife, that you were so curious about... it was the last gift from him."

Billie’s eyes softened with understanding and compassion. "I'm so sorry, Rachel. You’ve been through so much. You're uncle... he loved you so much, and I'm sure, wherever he is right now he still does. It's so sad and frustrating, that life hurts us all."

I nodded, taking a moment to collect myself. "Yeah, it’s been tough. But I’m trying to move forward, to find some kind of normalcy." I gave her a small smile, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders as I shared my story. "Thank you for listening."

Billie reached out, squeezing my hand gently. "Thank you for sharing that with me. It means a lot."

"Let's finish those pancakes, I'm starving." I chuckled slightly.

The cozy kitchen quickly filled with the smell of freshly made pancakes. We worked side by side, sharing small laughs as the rain continued to patter against the windows. We sat at the kitchen table, the warm food and the comforting atmosphere was just amazing.

As we started eating..., I noticed something about Billie. Something that made me think *How come I hadn't noticed it before?*

She had... fangs.
__________

Author's note:
I wonder, what a coincidence.
I started writing this story two weeks ago, and now Billie is on the cover of the Interview Magazine, with fangs, looking straight (💅) out of my imagination🤭.

Alright, I hope you like it so far.
I'm trying my best, to keep you satisfied... (And not make it cringey.) Btw, I love 'The Greatest' too much💙.

Love ya guys 🫶.