𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃, billie eilish

𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓵

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
i'll spend forever wondering
if you knew.
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i walked into her apartment that day, feeling the cold air bite at my skin. It was mid-november, but something about being with her always made the chill feel warmer. we had done this a hundred times before—me walking through her door, dropping my things, and feeling like i was stepping into a place that felt like home. but that day, it didn't feel the same. there was a distance between us, even if she hadn't said anything yet.

i remember leaving my scarf there, at her place. It was a little inside joke between us, the way i always forgot it. she'd find it lying on the back of a chair or stuffed into the corner of the couch and laugh, telling me she'd keep it safe until the next time. but that next time wasn't happening anymore, was it?

we drove upstate that weekend, her hand lazily resting on the gear shift, close enough to touch, but not quite. the radio was playing some old song, and we sang along, our voices blending together in the kind of harmony that only comes when you've been around someone long enough to know every beat, every pause.

"you're a terrible singer," she teased, her eyes flicking to mine as she smiled.

"you love it," i shot back, laughing. but the truth was, i loved her. always had.

we were passing through some small town, the kind where the leaves turn orange and red and everything feels slower, softer. i looked over at her, watching the way the sunlight caught in her hair, the easy way she smiled at nothing in particular. i thought for a second that maybe we could make this work, that whatever we were going through could be fixed.

but i was wrong.

her mother had always liked me. i remember sitting at their kitchen table, her mom pulling out old photo albums, showing me pictures of her as a kid. i could feel her cheeks flush beside me as her mom told stories about her choir days, how she'd been shy back then, unsure of herself. it was weird to think of her that way because to me, she'd always seemed so sure of everything. especially when it came to us.

but the more her mom talked, the more i realized that maybe i didn't know her as well as i thought i did. or maybe she didn't know herself. either way, i could feel something shifting between us, like a string slowly unraveling.

later that night, we were dancing in her kitchen, the soft glow of the refrigerator light casting shadows on her face. it was just us, no one else, and for a moment, i thought maybe we could forget everything. that we could just hold on to this, to the quiet, to the way we fit together.

but even then, i could feel her pulling away, her touch lighter than it used to be, her laugh not quite reaching her eyes. i tried to reach for her, to pull her back, but she was slipping through my fingers, and there was nothing i could do to stop it.

it's funny, looking back, how many red flags i ignored. like the way she never really wanted anyone to know about us, keeping me like a secret, hidden away in her life. i didn't mind at first because i thought it meant she was protecting something sacred, something just for us. but as time went on, it felt more like she was ashamed.

there was this night, not long before everything fell apart, when we were at some party. she was her usual self—charming, funny, making everyone laugh. but i couldn't shake the feeling that i didn't belong there, that i was just a piece of her life she was trying to tuck away. i remember slipping into the bathroom at some point, tears burning behind my eyes, wondering how we had gotten to this point. wondering if we had ever been more than what she allowed me to be.

and then came the phone call.

she didn't even come over to say it to my face. she just called, like it was some casual conversation, like she wasn't breaking me with every word.

"i just... don't think this is working anymore," she said, her voice distant, cold.

"what are you saying?" my voice cracked, the disbelief hitting me all at once.

"i'm saying that maybe we were a mistake. i don't know. i don't... i don't feel the same."

those words cut deeper than anything else she could've said. not the anger, not the fights—just the simple fact that she didn't feel the same anymore. like everything we had, everything we built, could just be erased with a few words.

"you're just... you're being cruel," i whispered, the tears falling freely now. "how can you do this to me? after everything?"

there was a pause on the other end of the line, long and heavy. "i'm just trying to be honest."

and that was it. the phone call ended, and with it, whatever we had left.

i still remember the last time i saw her. we were supposed to meet up to exchange the last of our things, and as i handed her the bag, i noticed something sticking out of one of the pockets. it was the scarf. my scarf. the one i'd left at her place all those months ago.

"you still have this?" i asked, surprised.

she shrugged, not meeting my eyes. "yeah, i couldn't... i didn't want to throw it away."

"why not?"

her silence was the only answer i got.

i walked away after that, the scarf clutched in my hand, my heart breaking all over again. she still had a piece of me, even after everything, and i knew it would be a long time before i felt whole again.

maybe i never would.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
i was enchanted to meet you.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

i hate this so much ew