Everything I Wanted

A Line Crossed, A Line Blurred - 32

Billie wasn't sure what it was about tonight, but something had changed.

She could feel it in the air, in the way Story sat next to her on the bed, hugging a pillow like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. She could feel it in the way their conversation had slowed, in the way Story had hesitated when talking about Barry, in the way Billie had wanted her to hesitate.

She wasn't sure what she had expected Story to say when she brought him up. Maybe that she wasn't interested, maybe that she wasn't ready, maybe—selfishly—that she wasn't looking at him the way she looked at her.

And when Story had said she just wanted to be friends with him, that she wasn't sure she was ready for anything more, Billie had felt relief so strong it nearly knocked the breath from her lungs.

She had no right to feel that way. She had no claim to Story, no reason to want her to hesitate.

But she did.

And the worst part?

She wasn't even sure if she wanted Story to notice.

The room had fallen into a comfortable silence after that, Billie absentmindedly scrolling through her phone while Story sat beside her, still clutching that stupid pillow. She was quiet now, but Billie could feel her eyes on her.

She turned her head.

And sure enough, Story was staring.

Billie's breath caught in her throat.

She should say something. She should joke, should tease, should do anything other than just sit here, locked in this silent stare-off like something was supposed to happen next.

But she didn't.

Because for the first time, she wasn't sure she wanted to break the moment.

Story's eyes flickered down for the briefest second—so brief that Billie could have convinced herself she imagined it.

But she didn't.

And then, slowly, Story started to lean in.

Billie felt like the world had slowed.

Her heart wasn't just pounding—it was soaring, crashing against her ribs like it was trying to break free. Story's nose brushed hers, her breath warm against Billie's lips. She was close enough that Billie could smell her perfume—something sweet and soft, something uniquely her.

And then—

She kissed her.

Billie barely had time to process it before her eyes fluttered shut, before she was kissing her back.

And it was perfect.

It wasn't rushed or desperate or anything like she had imagined in the fleeting moments she had let herself wonder.

It was soft. Slow. Gentle.

It was the kind of kiss that meant something.

It was the kind of kiss that made Billie want to memorize every single second of it—the way Story's lips felt against hers, the way her breath hitched just slightly, the way her fingers twitched like she wanted to reach for her but didn't.

Billie wanted her to.

She wanted Story to grab her, to hold onto her, to let this moment be what Billie already knew it was—something big, something new, something they had both been tiptoeing around for far too long.

Billie sighed softly against her lips, her head tilting slightly as she deepened the kiss just enough to let Story know she wanted this.

That she wanted her.

And for one blissful moment, she swore Story felt the same.

Then, suddenly, Story was gone.

She pulled back so fast it was like she had been burned, her eyes wide, her expression somewhere between panic and shock.

"Oh my God."

Billie was still dazed, still breathless, still floating somewhere in the space between what had just happened and what it meant.

But then Story was shaking her head, stumbling over her words, rambling in a way that Billie knew meant she was spiraling.

"I—I'm so sorry," she blurted, voice too high, too fast.

Billie sat up quickly, shaking her head. "Story, it's okay—"

"No, no, no," Story interrupted, her hands gripping her hair like she was trying to physically hold herself together. "I—what was that? I—God, I'm so embarrassed—"

Billie's chest ached.

Not because Story regretted it. Not because she was freaking out.

But because she was looking at Billie like she had ruined something.

"Story, breathe," Billie tried, her voice as calm as she could make it, even though she felt anything but calm.

Story wasn't listening.

She was too in her head, too caught up in whatever war was raging inside of her. Billie knew she should try harder to calm her down, to tell her that it was okay, that she didn't have to be embarrassed, that Billie wasn't going to push her for anything she wasn't ready for.

But before she could, Story was already scrambling for her bag.

"I need to go."

Billie's stomach dropped.

"What?"

"I just—I need to go back to my hotel."

Billie moved instinctively, starting to reach for her hand, to stop her, to get her to look at her. "Story, please—"

But Story backed up so fast she nearly tripped over herself, holding up a hand like she was trying to physically keep Billie from getting closer.

Billie's breath caught.

Because this was different.

This wasn't just Story panicking. This was Story running.

And Billie didn't know how to stop her.

So she didn't move.

Didn't say anything.

She just stood there, watching as Story turned and walked out of her room, out of her house, out of her life—

And she had no idea if she was ever going to come back.

Words From Lana-

Here's some Billie insight for ya!
This is a double update so if you haven't read the one before this please do!

Love,
Lana🩷