You're Mine // WLW

Good Luck

"Hey."

A gentle nudge on my shoulder broke through the haze of sleep, pulling me out from the soft depths of my dreams. I slowly opened my eyes, blinking against the morning light. The blurry figure in front of me sharpened into Billie. Her hair flew into soft waves around her face while she looked down at me with a mix of guilt and concern.

"Your manager is blowing up your phone." she said with a wry smile, holding up my phone. I blinked again, piercing together where I was—still on her couch, tangled in the blanket she had brought me last night. Panic shot through me as I suddenly remembered the interview I was supposed to be at this morning.

I shot up and immediately grabbed my phone out of Billie's hand, scrolling through Max's frantic messages.

"You're supposed to be at the studio. You okay?"

"Call me back, ASAP."

I stared at the screen, feeling a surge of panic as I took in the long line of missed calls and text from Max. I noticed there was also a message from...Dylan. I don't have time for Dylan right now.

Billie's voice broke through my thoughts, steady yet carrying a hint of regret. "I'm sorry if I made you late." Her gaze softened but there was a quiet confidence in her tone, as if she'd already considered the consequences of last night.

I looked up, caught off guard by her sincerity. "No, it's- it's not your fault. I should've set an alarm or something."

She tilted her head, studying me for a moment. "Look, if it helps, I can still drive you there." Her expression was focused. I could sense she was determined to make things right. "And you can still pick an outfit from my closet to wear there."

I let out an exhale, glancing at the now creased clothes from last night. The offer still stands and I could tell that she meant it.

"That would be helpful." I admitted quietly, unable to ignore the tension that was still well and alive.

She gave me a single nod, then gestured toward her room. "Follow me."

We made our way down the hallway and I tried to shake off the morning fog that still clung to me. Inside her room, Billie opened a set of double doors to reveal her closet, and I couldn't help but pause. The space was like a small boutique—roomy, with a sleek mini island table in the center. Racks and shelves aligned the walls, each neatly organized with shirts, jackets and pants of every shade and texture. Billie walked in ahead of me, gesturing toward the row of clothes.

"Take your pick." she offered, her eyes warm as she stepped back, giving me room to browse through the racks.

I skimmed over the hangers, my fingers brushing against a variety of different styles and fabrics until I found a black V-neck top with a delicate lace trailing along the neckline. It felt soft and looked great, with just a hint of edge. I paired it with some jeans in a dirty blue wash, slightly baggy but structured enough to not look sloppy on me.

"Do you have a belt?" I asked, holding up the jeans to show the need for a little help in the waist area.

"Of course." She replied, reaching for a simple black leather belt hanging nearby and handing it to me with an easy smile.

"Thank you" I said, feeling a rush of gratitude. Without wasting another second, I slipped into the bathroom connected to Billie's bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind me.

As I closed the door behind me, I took a steadying breath. The scent of Billie's shampoo and faint traces of her perfume filled the air. It was surreal—getting ready in her space, wearing her clothes. It felt like a whole new world I just stepped into.