Don't Hug Me I'm Scared {Billie Eilish}

{33}✔️

Dahlia's POV
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Billie talked to me about her past for about three hours before she insisted on picking me up off the counter and carrying me into the bathroom. I worried that me showering this late, or rather, this early, would wake Finneas up, but she insisted that It'd be fine because he sleeps like a baby.

"I'm gonna run you a bath instead because I don't think you should or could stand up for all that long, and soaking will help make you feel better anyway."

Billie started running the water after she told me and then grabbed me a rag and towel out of the closet, placing the rag in the water and the towel on the towel holder above the big bathtub before grabbing some soap and some Epsom salt. I watched her closely as I sat on the counter. Everything on me still hurt like a bitch, but the pain wasn't that intolerable as I focused on her.

"You lied," I mumbled, my throat stinging even though I hadn't spoken that loudly. She turned to me and raised an eyebrow. "You said you weren't good at helping people get through shit, but you were there for me when Kai posted my picture and you're the reason I got through that. And now it's almost 5 am and you're here running me a bath because I got my ass jumped, and you're helping me through this too."

She blushed and shook her head as she continued to walk around the bathroom, getting things together. "It just seems like I know what I'm doing because I've been through this particular situation a lot. I mean—Fin has done this for me a lot. I'd get hurt and he knew what to do to help me get better."

He seemed like a natural when it came to patching me up. I guess that's why. Because of Billie's past. If he wasn't into music I bet he'd be a doctor.

"Did Finneas help you get through someone's naked picture being posted several times too?" I questioned, watching as she froze in her spot and looked at me. "Give yourself some credit, Eilish. You're not a monster or anything. You're not the bad guy. You used to beat the shit out of people literally because you wanted to help the people who couldn't help themselves. It was unorthodox, but you're kinda a natural caregiver in a way. You're like...The biggest chaotic good person I've ever met."

"I always thought of myself as a chaotic neutral."

I grinned as she walked over in front of me, lifting a finger up to softly stroke my cheek. It hurt, but I tried not to show it because I enjoyed her touch. She clearly noticed, though, because she pulled away almost immediately.

"If your lip wasn't swollen like a baboon's ass right now, I'd kiss you." She smiled.

"I feel so fucking beautiful, Billie. Thank you."

"We need to get those clothes off. Lift your arms, okay?" She went to tug gently at my shirt, but I quickly shook my head.

"N-No. I've got bruises everywhere and they're so fucking ugly. I look terrible, I don't want you to see—"

"You've got two black eyes and baboon ass lips and I still think you're one of the most attractive girls I've ever seen in my life. You come second only to Beyoncé."

"Let's not act like Ariana Grande doesn't exist, please. I come third." I giggled. "Thank you, but I still don't want you to see me like this. I can get undressed and in the tub by myself.