My BINI (Billie Eilish X Reader)

Chapter 4 ~

A/n:

Hey y'all, sorry for the late update, was busy with school projects. Anyways, enjoy!!

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☆彡彡 у/η'ѕ ρσν ミミ☆

It’s been four weeks since I met her, and honestly, shit’s never been better. Me and Billie have been talking almost every day—texting, hanging out, you name it. My friends? Still hounding me like crazy about who this "mysterious girl" is that I keep sneaking off to see. But fuck, I’m not ready to spill just yet. Not now, at least.

Right now, we’re in the studio, practicing the dance for “Karera.” And let me tell you, the last part? Freaking breakdancing. Like, whose bright idea was that? I’m over here twisting myself in ways my body clearly wasn’t built for. But we gotta nail it, no excuses.

After what feels like hours of sweating and nearly snapping something important, our manager finally calls it. “Good job today, girls. Tomorrow we go over ‘Cherry On Top.’”

We all let out this massive sigh of relief. My legs are about ready to give up on me. “Jesus, thank God,” I mutter, wiping the sweat off my forehead and grabbing my stuff.

By the time we’re heading out, the sun’s already setting. We decide to hit the park for a bit before crashing at my place.

“So, movie night?” Armie asks, even though she already knows the answer.

“Hell yeah,” Maggie chimes in, adjusting her cap like she’s too cool for school.

We head to my apartment, and as soon as I open the door, Daisy and Emerald come barreling toward me, tails wagging like it’s the end of the world. “Aww, I missed you guys too,” I coo, crouching down to give them all the love they deserve. Best damn part of coming home.

After feeding them, I head to the kitchen to throw together some snacks while the girls start their usual bullshit argument about which movie to watch. I swear, it’s like clockwork with them.

I bring out the snacks—popcorn, candy, drinks, chips—and toss in, “Oh, and there’s four boxes of pizza coming.”

That shuts them up quick. Everyone turns to me, and of course, now they want me to pick the movie. Typical.

“Fine, I’ll choose,” I say, rolling my eyes. I finally settle on Fruitvale Station because, let’s be real, it hits hard every damn time.

We’re about halfway through the movie when my phone starts buzzing. Everyone freezes and stares at me. I flip it over real quick before they can see the name—thank God for face-down phones.

I glance at the screen. It’s Billie. Trying to stay cool, I answer it, but I can feel their eyes on me, waiting for some kind of hint.

“Hey,” I say into the phone, keeping my voice casual.

“Hey, you free to hang out? I’ve got the rest of the day off,” Billie says, her voice all smooth and chill like she always is.

The girls can’t place the voice, but I can tell they’re dying to. “Yeah, sounds good. How about we meet at the café in about an hour?”

“Perfect. See you then,” she replies, and we hang up.

The girls are still staring, but I shrug it off. “Let’s just finish the damn movie. I don’t want to be late.”

I don’t mention Billie’s name, though. They don’t need to know all my business just yet. We finish the movie, and after some half-hearted teasing, they decide to stay at my place and wait for me to get back from my "mystery date."

I head to my room, get ready in record time, and shoot Billie a text that I’m on my way.

☆彡彡 вιℓℓιє'ѕ ρσν ミミ☆

I glance at my phone and see y/n’s text saying she’s on her way. Smirking, I check myself out in the mirror, straightening my hoodie. The usual — oversized, baggy, paired with my cargo pants and sneakers. No need to go all out.

Heading downstairs, I spot my parents in the kitchen, sipping their tea like always.

“Where are you off to?” Mom asks, eyeing me like she knows I’m up to something.

“Just meeting a friend,” I say smoothly, giving Finneas a side glance. Of course, the asshole’s smirking. He knows exactly who I’m meeting. He’s probably tried to dig up dirt on y/n, but for once, even he couldn’t find jack shit. No socials, no nothing. Strange, but whatever.

I wave goodbye, and head out the door, the cool air hitting me as I walk down the street. It’s a nice walk, gives me time to clear my head after a long-ass day.

By the time I get to the café, y/n’s already there, about to head inside. Perfect timing.

“Hey, mamas,” I greet her with a grin, throwing out one of my signature nicknames. She’s gotten used to it by now.

Y/n rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. “You always have to come up with something new, don’t you?”

“You know you love it,” I tease, holding the door open for her.

We walk in, and that familiar smell of coffee and baked goods hits us. We order the usual — she gets her strawberry boba and shortcake, I get my iced matcha latte and lemon loaf. We’ve got our routine down by now.

We grab our booth in the back, where it’s quiet and cozy. The perfect spot.

“So, I was thinking,” I say, leaning back, “What if next time we try baking that lemon loaf at my place? Could be fun.”

Y/n laughs. “As long as you don’t burn the fucking house down, I’m in.”

I pretend to be offended. “Me? Burn the house down? Wow, you’ve got some nerve.”

We laugh, and the conversation flows like it always does. It’s easy, natural. We don’t even have to try.

“Oh, by the way,” I say, giving her a smirk, “How the hell do you afford both a Samoyed and a Norwegian Forest Cat? That’s like rich-people pet money.”

Y/n takes a sip of her boba, looking a little sheepish. “Yeah, so… I didn’t mention this before, but I come from a pretty wealthy family.”

I raise an eyebrow, surprised but not mad. “No shit. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t wanna be that person,” she shrugs. “Felt weird bringing it up.”

“Nah, I get it. No big deal,” I say, waving it off. Doesn’t change anything.

We keep chatting, cracking jokes about Finneas’s weird habits and my sneaker obsession. By the time our food arrives, we’re still talking shit and laughing like no tomorrow. That’s how it always is with us — easy, fun, no pressure.

Y/n insists on paying, and I let her. It’s her turn, after all. We made a deal to switch off paying each time, so fair’s fair.

“Alright, I’ll let you pay this time,” I tease, leaning back in the booth.

“You’ll let me?” Y/n laughs. “I’m paying, end of story.”

After we settle up, we walk outside into the cool evening air. The sun’s long gone, and the street’s lit up with that golden glow from the streetlights.

“Text me later, okay?” I say, glancing over at her.

“Of course,” she says with a smile. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah.”

With that, we part ways, both heading home with the promise to keep texting.

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Total words: 1237 words