call out my name (billie eilish girl x girl)

tell me how

A/N: this chapter broke my fucking hearttt but it's my favorite i've written so far, also we so close to 20k the fuckkk

inspo: tell me how, paramore (i swear everyone knows my music taste perfectly after 33 chapters sksksk)

~

Of all the weapons you fight with, your silence is the most deadly

Billie's POV:

One month of silence. I used to wake up and check my messages first thing in hopes of hearing from her. Used to. Now I just expect nothing, but hold on to everything in my head.

I feel so played, and I don't want to, but I question everything. I go back and rethink every minute, wondering what was real, if any of it was. Her love felt so real, but now it feels so fake whenever I think back to every kiss, every night she slept in my bed. But, I gave her everything, so I shouldn't be surprised that she took every piece and left without another word.

And my phone. And my money. Just thinking about it pisses me off while at the same time makes me feel so fucking stupid and naive.

At least everyone believed me when I lied and said we broke up, that I was done with her. But I guess it's not really a lie anymore.

They still ordered me to therapy, which I've managed to avoid for a month with concerts and interviews and any possible excuse. Today is the last day though; if I don't show up, the cops threatened jail time. I don't know which option is worse, to be honest.

***

"Did she make you happy?"

I snort, turned away from the therapist with my legs folded up in front of me on the couch. I yank the tag she left on the pillow off and let it slip from my fingertips, falling to the floor slowly like a feather.

"You seem hostile," she presses when I don't respond. I've been giving her one-word answers for 50 minutes, and only have 10 more to bullshit my way through. But her assumption sets off a bomb in me and I whip my head around to really look at her.

"Hostile? I don't know, how would you feel if your soulmate ran off and refuses to call after going through fucking hell and back together? But not just that, if the whole world tells you that you can't be happy with them because they're the same gender as you? Yeah, I'm a little fucking hostile. Sorry," I go off, and she smiles, like 'yes, i've finally cracked into her.'

"I thought you broke up."

Fuck.

I turn back around and dig my fake nails into the pillow, trying to pop it open. I feel so angry all the time, like I want everything and everyone around me to feel just as miserable as I do.

"Billie, look at me and listen," she tries to pull me back. I hate the way she says my name like we're friends, or like I chose to be here. But we only have 8 minutes left so I put on a show for her, turning back and slipping my hand under my chin, like I'm absolutely enthralled with whatever she's going to say.

"You said you and Hannah have been through hell and back together, why do you think it was that way?" she asks me a question like it's supposed to mean something. I pretend to really think about it, let out a deep breath, and say in a deadpan voice:

"Because life fucking sucks."

"But that's the thing. Soulmates are supposed to have a perfect path with almost no relationship-ending problems in the way. Why do you think you and Hannah's path was never like that?" she prods me to follow her trail of thought, but I don't give her any more of my thoughts.

"I don't know, why don't you tell me, since you're the one that knows everything," I snap. She smiles like one of those soccer moms who's inwardly judging you but keeps a sweet face to look like they never do wrong.

"Because nature realized it was a mistake to put you together, and is trying to correct it by keeping you apart," she answers her own question. I don't respond, just lay back and stare at the ceiling, trying to process it. I wish she never said that, because now it's all I can think about. I wish it didn't make so much sense, but it does, and I don't know... maybe she's right. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe love isn't supposed to hurt so bad.

"If you're right, then how-- what am I supposed to do about her?" my voice cracks, and I don't want it to. I want to be strong but it feels like everything I thought I knew is getting ripped out of my head and exposed.

"Stop thinking of Hannah as your soulmate. She's nothing to you and you need to tell yourself that until you believe it," the therapist leans in like it's some big secret. My heart tells me she's lying, that she's just a homophobic bitch, but my brain will do anything to escape thirty days of heartbreak piling on top of each other.

"But... I love her," I start to cry, immediately wiping tears away with the sleeve of my hoodie so I don't show her how I feel. She reaches across the space between us and puts her hand over the top of mine, and I look into her eyes and see pity.

"It's your mind playing tricks on you. Next time you start thinking of her that way, tell yourself 'this isn't real.' Can you do that?" she looks to me for confirmation that I'm not sure I can give. I look at the clock and realize I can leave, and pull my hand away from her.

"If it'll make the hurt go away," I respond, ignoring her last comments as I storm out the door, slamming it shut. Finneas bobs his head up from his phone in the waiting room, looking so sorry, like he would do anything so I won't have to go through this. I cross my arms and bite my lip, not saying anything. He rushes to his feet and puts his hand over my shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

As soon as he says that, I break down in sobs. If only he would've stayed silent, I wouldn't be crying like a little bitch, but I swear whenever someone asks how I am when I'm not okay, I immediately start bawling. The pressure of his hug feels suffocating, but better than the way I've been holding my breath for an entire month.

But I'm done. I'm gonna try to keep Hannah in the past, or like a dream that never came true.

Tell me how to feel about you now... do I suffocate or let go?

***

Hannah's POV:

I sit on the floor of my cell, tapping my dull pencil against a scrap of paper. I use anything I can to write Billie a letter every day. I know I might never be able to send them to her, but it's the only thing keeping me connected to her. I have this hope that if I keep thinking of her, keep writing as if I'm talking to her, she'll keep holding on like I've been every day since I last saw her.

Bil,

I wish I could send you a sign or something. I worry that you think I hate you, that I ran off. I can't stop thinking about what you're thinking about. I want to believe you know where I am, but I also hope you don't, because if you did, then where are you?

I drop the pencil and shove the letter under my mattress when I see a guard approaching. He opens up my cell and I jump up to my feet.

"It's been a month, you get one phone call."

A smile takes over my face as I move to leave, but the guard grabs my collar and yanks me back, whispering in my ear.

"We'll know if you call her."

The smile falls which makes him smirk down at me. The worst part is the realization that I have nobody else to call. Nobody else that I matter to or that matters to me.

As I stand in front of the phone, I hold it in my hand, fingers hovering over the buttons. I try to hold back my tears, because they want to punch in her number, and I want to hear her voice. Then it hits me, and my fingers fly over the keypad, and I hold my breath as the ringing fills my ears.

On the second to last ring, they answer, and my voice breaks at the sound.

"Finneas?"

I can't call you a stranger, but I can't call you...