call out my name (billie eilish girl x girl)

daddy issues

chapter song inspo: daddy issues, the nbhd

"If you were my little girl, I'd do whatever I could do, I'd run away and hide with you."

Billie's POV:

I hold my fist in front of the door, about to knock, when I hesitate. Fuck it, I'm letting myself in. The door's unlocked and I push it open, leaving all my fears on the doorstep.

"Hannah? Is that you?"

I hear a voice call out, probably her moms. I smirk as I walk towards it, into the kitchen. I rap my fake nails against the countertop, waiting for her to turn around, just as her dad walks in from the other entrance. He puffs his chest up real big and taps his wife's shoulder. She turns around and the plate in her hand slips out of her hand and smashes into pieces against the tiles. Damn, I know I can be intimidating, but not that scary.

"Who are you--we'll call the cops for breaking and entering!" she screeches, stepping over shards from the broken plate to get to her phone on the counter. I lean over it and grab her phone before she can, watching her horrified expression as I walk over to the sink. I plug up the sink and throw the phone in the bottom of it, then turn the water on full blast. Just like she did to Hannah's.

"We know how much you love calling the cops, but not this time," I glare at them, feeling slightly satisfied. But not enough, yet.

"Who are you and what do you want," her dad says calmly, but I can hear the shakiness in his voice. I see his other hand on his side pull out his phone from his pocket as he tries to secretly dial a number. I move closer to them, snatching a knife out of the holder conveniently set out.

"Drop the phone."

When he doesn't react I lower my forehead and channel all my anger into my glare.

"DROP THE FUCKING PHONE!" I scream, and he releases it to the floor. I fake a smile and take a step back.

"Now kick it over here," I order, and he glares right back at me, but does it. I keep my eyes focused on them as I bend over to pick up the phone. When I stand back up, I toss it into the full sink with Hannah's mom's phone. Her dad tries to act all tough and stands a bit taller.

"You didn't answer my questions," he grumbles. I can tell it's killing him that he doesn't have all the power for once.

"How about you answer mine instead? Why would two parents want to report their own daughter to the cops because of who she loves?" I pretend to contemplate the question aloud, and their faces fall in realization and disgust.

"Because it's wrong. Because it's a mistake of nature that needs to be corrected," he snaps, raising his voice louder and louder. He's talking too loud, he needs to be brought down a notch.

"I don't think it's a mistake if nature intended for it to be that way," I whisper, right up in his face now, so close I can feel the temperature rise off his skin in anger. I'm fucking pissed too, but I need to contain it.

"You tell yourself that to feel better. But you know, under all 'this'," he pauses to gesture at my clothes, "you know just as well that you're a mistake."

Fuck it, I can't hold back anymore.

"Or maybe you need to be corrected," I hiss, and slash the knife across his palm. He screams and lunges for me but I back away, holding the knife out in front of me with two hands.

"If you ever think about reporting us, I'll put this knife somewhere else," I warn him, but I think he can tell I'm not that confident. He just smiles and shakes his head, pressing his palm against his jeans, pooling up in red.

"You won't do that. As soon as you leave, we'll call the cops and tell them everything, unless..." he trails off, just raising an eyebrow at me as if I know what he's thinking. I don't, and don't know if I want to.

"What," I snap, my hands shaking uncontrollably now, but still holding onto the knife.

"You must make a lot of money with your music," he answers with a smirk. Oh, hell no. I hate the way he says music, as if what I do isn't worthy or some shit.

"What? You tryna pimp your daughter out to me?" I laugh, not sure if I believe this. He shrugs, and her mom steps up after recollecting herself, trying to act all bad now too.

"If you want us to not talk..."

God, I should just kill both of them. Can't talk if they're dead. But I can't do that, not because they don't deserve it, because Hannah doesn't. I think of her face, her smile, her laugh, how she fits perfectly in my arms when we fall asleep. It's the only reason I find myself nodding, but it feels like giving up. I hate the greedy smiles on their faces. I drop the knife because they both know I'm not gonna use it again.

Her mom pulls off a post-it note from the fridge and writes something down, sliding it over to me.

"If we don't have it in a week, we're going to the cops," she smiles, one of those sweet soccer mom bullshit smiles. I don't know which one I hate more at this point.

I don't say another word, just grab the post-it and shove it in my pocket, walking back out the front door. The fear I left on the doorstep comes back along with defeat. I have a way to get them to keep quiet, but it's sketchy as fuck. Plus, I can't tell Hannah about any of this. She'd try to talk me out of it, but there's no other way. I try to pull on a confident expression as I get closer to the car, but if I don't believe it, who knows if Hannah will.

Hannah's POV:

I let out a breath of relief as soon as I see Billie walking towards me. It felt like she was in there for way too long, and I want to know everything that happened. When she gets in the car, she doesn't speak, and as soon she starts it, slams down on the gas pedal without looking behind her.

"Bil! Please, slow down and tell me what happened," I beg, putting a hand on her thigh. She blinks through tears and refuses to breathe, speeding up so we're almost at 100 in a 25 mile per hour limit. I mean, if I die, I'd want it to be with her, but I don't wanna die yet.

"Pull over!" I urge her to, placing my free hand over hers on the steering wheel. Billie finally listens, slamming on the brake and pulling off the road. The tears come out stronger now, and I take off my seatbelt and hers, sliding as close as I can. I pull her head in my lap and kiss her forehead, while running my hands through her hair because I know it calms her down.

"What happened, Billie?" I ask one more time, desperate for answers. Billie looks into my eyes and doesn't say a word at first, until she sits up and wipes away her tears, smiling even though I can tell she's dying inside.

"Don't worry, okay?" she responds without really giving me any answers. She rests the back of her hand against my cheek, and I lean into it, feeling the cool metal of her rings on my skin. Then, she gets an idea, and pulls her hand away. She examines her fingers and slips off one of her rings, with a big diamond in the middle. Billie reaches for my hand and slides it onto my finger, then kisses the back of my hand.

"I promise you everything's gonna work out, okay? Do you trust me?" she asks.

"Of course," I answer immediately, because it's not even a question to me. She smiles and starts to put back on her seatbelt to drive again, when I reach out to grab her hand.

"But... what did you do in there?" I ask, for the last time.

"I took care of it, mamas."