Los Angeles wasn't exactly my dream city, but it was starting to feel less foreign. The sunshine, the palm trees, the endless bustle—it all seemed a world apart from the gray, winding streets of Chicago. But being here meant I could be closer to Billie, and that made everything worth it.
Work was picking up, too. I had my hands full with new projects—exciting ones, even if they felt bigger than what I used to handle. LA had its perks: connections, opportunities, and access to a creative world I hadn't quite tapped into back home. Still, there were days when I'd find myself shelving a big gig just to focus on something smaller, more familiar. Like a series of personal shots, something I could get lost in—without the pressure of galleries, clients, or deadlines.
Tonight, though, none of that was on my mind. It was December 18th, Billie's birthday, and we had the whole night to ourselves. No crew. No noise. Just the two of us. After weeks of presentations, interviews, and flashing cameras, the idea of slipping into a quiet restaurant away from the public eye, felt like a luxury.
The place Billie picked was small, candlelit with just enough dim lighting to feel intimate, and it was very private, the kind of place famous people go to have a little quiet. We sat by the window, she was across from me, eyes bright and cheeks flushed, talking about some random story from the tour. I loved these moments with her—the kind where she let go of the performer side and just... existed.
"You're not even listening," she teased, catching me lost in thought.
"I am! I just... can't resist watching you talk," I replied, biting my lip and smiling as I reached for her hand across the table. Her skin was soft and familiar, grounding me in a way that nothing else could.
Billie rolled her eyes but smiled, her thumb brushing over mine. "Okay, smooth talker," she replied, her voice soft but carrying her usual playful undertone I loved. There was something about the way she looked at me in these moments that made the noise of everything else disappear.
She was animated and excited, her hands moving as she spoke, and every now and then, she'd pause to take a bite or lean closer, her leg brushing against mine under the table.
But halfway through, I couldn't resist anymore. It wasn't just the way she spoke or the way her eyes, those big pale-blue eyes, sparkled when she laughed—it was the way being with her made me feel seen. I reached out, taking her hand in mine again, and as she looked at me, something clicked.
"Hey," I whispered, leaning across the table. She met me halfway, and I could feel her breath against my skin before our lips touched. The kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, but it deepened quickly, the warmth of her mouth sending a shiver down my spine.
There was no one else in the world at that moment. Just her and me, wrapped up in each other, blocking out everything else. Her fingers tightened around mine as she pulled back just slightly, her eyes searching mine for a beat before she kissed me again, slower this time, more deliberate. Me savoring each second of it like it would be the last time.
When we finally pulled apart, we were both smiling, our foreheads resting together. "Happy birthday," I whispered, still a little breathless.
"Best. gift. ever," she said slow and softly, her lips brushing mine once more before she leaned back in her seat, still holding my hand.
The rest of the night went smoothly, the waiter bringing out a slice of cake with a single candle, her making a half-hearted wish before blowing it out, laughter echoing between us. I snapped a picture of her grinning with the candlelit cake, the kind of candid shot that captured the side of Billie I got to see when it was just us.
"Let's get out of here," she said after we'd finished, her eyes bright with mischief. And before I knew it, we were wrapped in each other back at her place, the night stretching out in front of us like it was just beginning.
**
The next morning, though, reality hit hard too early. I woke up still early in the morning with my phone buzzing nonstop with notifications—texts, pings, and tagged photos. A quick scroll and there we were, plastered across the internet, captured in the moments that were supposed to be just ours.
The pictures showed us holding hands at dinner, the birthday kiss at the restaurant, and more that felt too personal for public consumption. My stomach turned.
"I'm sorry, babe," She said softly as she woke up, watching the tension on my face as I sat in the bed and stared at my phone.
"It's not your fault," I muttered, placing the phone screen down. But it stung, being so vulnerable in public, even when all we were trying to do was enjoy a quiet evening together. "It's just... sometimes I forget how much people watch."
Billie wrapped her arms around me from behind, resting her chin on my shoulder. "You know what? We can stay in next time, just us."
I leaned into her, letting her warmth soothe me. "Yeah," I whispered. "I'd like that."
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Echoes of Us | Billie Eilish fanfic
Romance[This book is a sequel to Through the Lens of You. Though not necessary to read this sequel, reading TTLOY first gives a background to the characters and their stories] After falling in love in Through the Lens of You, Heather and Billie's relations...
