Hinder • {Bill Skarsgård}

||Chapter Fifteen||

Ella awoke with a groan—her head pounding to the rhythm of her heartbeat as she lied still. She had been through enough hangovers to know that this was the start of a bad one. She squinted one eye open, noticing that the bedsheets were not her own.

Both eyes shot open as she recalled last night's events. She was in Bill's hotel room. She had went to a bar, chasing whiskey with beer until she couldn't see straight. Ella had thought she had been at the bar for roughly two hours, but as she lied awake feeling her heartbeat in her brain, she knew that couldn't have been true. She seemed to vaguely recall tequila being substituted for whiskey near the end of her lonely adventure, before stumbling out of the bar.

At the last minute, when she had climbed into the back of that cab, she had requested to be taken to the Mercer. Ella sat up, feeling her chest tighten and stomach grumble. She felt nauseous—the splitting headache progressing into something more. She remembered glimpses of coming into Bill's room; snippets of him standing in the doorway (far away) as if she were disease ridden.

Ella's gaze slowly trailed to her chest, revealing that she was only wearing her undergarments. That was why Bill had kept his distance—that was why he had refused to hold her until she fell asleep. The thought caused Ella to facepalm. She had actually asked that he lay with her until she fell asleep. As if she thought her heart couldn't race any faster, the blood began pumping through the chambers at full force in embarrassment; her face blushing a vibrant hue.

She whipped the covers back, scavenging the floor for her clothes. She rushed to put them back on, her vision speckled in black spots from moving too quickly. "Oh no. Oh no, no, no." Ella whispered, now on the hunt for her purse.

Dean had not spoken to Ella since she had told him that she was married. He was mad; probably contemplating on ending their three years relationship. That had been what initially drove Ella to Bill's hotel room; she had needed someone to lean on—someone to confide in. At least, that's what she told herself as she stumbled into the elevator and onto his floor. But truthfully, Ella just needed to see him.

Frantically moving throw pillows off the couch, Bill stood at the kitchen counter, watching Ella in confusion. His brows pulled together with narrowed eyes as he questioned what Ella was doing.

"What are you looking for?" Bill finally spoke. He was becoming anxious just watching her unaccomplished search.

"Oh shit!" Ella clutched her chest; her breathing deep and loud. "I didn't see you standing there." She swallowed hard, (with what little saliva she still had in her mouth) clearing her throat. "Ah, my purse. I'm looking for my purse."

Bill pointed to the door; in the floor at the entrance was her plain beige purse. She nodded; silently thanking him as she made her way to it.

"It's been going off all morning." Bill said nonchalantly, taking a sip of coffee.

Ella snatched her purse from the floor, scoffing in disbelief. "And you didn't tell me? Why- what time is it?" She reached for her phone, but before she could see the time for herself, Bill spoke.

"It's eleven. I just woke up, it's been ringing since I started making coffee." Bill took another sip; his eyes were puffy, his lips were swollen. He wasn't lying, he hadn't been up long. Ella saw that his hair was wet; he had taken a shower—thick strands hanging over his brow.

Her heart seemed to sink further into her gut when seeing that the missed phone calls were all from Dean. She didn't know how much more her heart could take. She was sure to go into cardiac arrest soon if something didn't give.

Her eyes cautiously went to Bill, seeing that he was staring at her from across the way. She knew that he knew who had been calling. But just to be clear, she decided to tell Bill anyway.