robbers (sequel) billie eilish

glory & gore

A/N: the pace of this story is faster than a bullet lol (*winks*)

inspo: glory and gore, LORDEEE

~

Wide awake in bed, words in my brain, 'secretly you love this, do you even wanna go free?'

Hannah's POV:

I blink awake from the cold, noticing Billie missing next to me. I hear her fumbling around in the other room so I lay wide awake now, twisting my ring around my finger in the darkness. I can't get her words out of my brain, but it wasn't what she said exactly that scares me.

I would kill for you

It's that I know Billie meant it. Maybe she was searching for me to return the words back to her, or tell her that it wouldn't ever come to that, but all I said was that I know. And I don't know what scares me more: that Billie would do that, or that I would too.

This is how it goes every night, thinking about the what-ifs again. I wish I could go back to an incredibly boring life where absolutely nothing ever happened to me, but after dipping my toes into the water, I dived right in. It feels like the only place I'm floating is away.

I hear the deadbolt chain hit the back of the door as it opens and shuts swiftly, and my heart stops. I throw the covers off and run out of the room, and turn on all the lights to see clearly. But all I see is that Billie left.

I don't have to follow her to know where she's going, because Billie's impulsive and by now I'm used to how she thinks. I don't have to follow her, but I'm going to anyway.

~

It's clear that someone's gotta go...

Billie's POV:

"You really gonna shoot me?" I laugh, not able to see him with my back turned.

"You took everything from me," Justin's voice drops low and then rises back up again. I can't help but laugh again, and for some reason, even with a gun literally digging into the back of my neck, I don't really feel scared.

"No, I gave you what you wanted," I pause, feeling the barrel start to shake from the twitching of his hands, "I made you relevant," I finish.

"You took Hannah!" he screams, the sound piercing my eardrums so loudly my fingers flinch, wanting to cover my ears but I hold them at my sides.

"She's always been mine, even when she was with you."

I can't keep talking with my back turned away, and I slowly shift my feet, twisting in a circle to face him. At first, I keep my eyes trained on the ground when he rests the gun in the middle of my forehead. I breathe out through my mouth and lift them to meet his eyes alive with anger.

"Every time she kissed you, she thought of me," I take the smallest step closer to him, but he doesn't pull the gun back, and it presses against my skin.

"Every time she told you she loved you, she lied," I say slowly for him to process, because clearly he's too self-obsessed to comprehend the idea that Hannah doesn't give a fuck about him. I see the muscles in his face spasming, like he's trying so hard to pretend to not be affected by my words. Then his face grows still and his hands stop shaking.

"So if you're gone, there won't be a you for her to think of," he says it like he's thinking aloud, when it's probably been his plan for so long. A plan that I walked right into without even thinking because I can't handle big rushes of emotions the way others can.

My eyes flutter closed because there's nothing I can do, and if it's going to happen, I want the last thing I see to be Hannah. In my head, at least. But my thoughts go blank when I thought in these situations you were supposed to get flashbacks to all the big moments. I need something, but I don't feel her presence in the past or in my memories.

I feel it... here.

"You really think I'd ever come back to you?"

I smile at the sound of her voice, I don't need to open my eyes to know she's here when I needed her to be. But I do anyways, and she doesn't look at me, only at Justin, with her gun pointed right at his head.

"If you don't want her to get hurt," he pretends like it's a compromise. Hannah doesn't compromise, she does what she wants, and even though it can get frustrating, right now it makes me fucking love her.

My breathing races when she stays silent, still not looking even once at me. I can see her thinking things through, trying to find the best possible way out of this.

I'm sorry

I practically choke on nothing, staring at her lips, I realize they didn't move, but I still heard her. No, felt her. I want to ask what she's sorry for, until I see what she does.

Hannah flips the gun around, pointing the barrel at herself instead of him. His eyes widen in fear, but I don't waste a second looking at him. I open my mouth to scream at her to not be a fucking idiot, but I feel paralyzed in every muscle. I didn't feel afraid at the gun aimed on me, but when I see one on her, I've never felt more terrified.

Hannah stares into me, but her emotions aren't wild or all over the place. They're calculated, precise, specific.

Justin's the emotional one, and I need to shove mine aside to take advantage of his. He's so focused on her that his hand droops from holding up the gun at me for so long. I feel space between my forehead and the barrel, and even though it's not much, I go for it. My palm clamps around the gun and forces it out of his loose grip that he tries to regain, only too little too late. Within a second, I have our roles reversed, and much to my relief, Hannah has her gun facing the opposite way now too.

"Hannah! Look what she's doing to you!" Justin cries out like I'm the bad guy. And maybe I am, but my mistakes were made are out of love, whereas his are out of a lust for complete control.

"Remember what you did to me? Billie would never fucking hurt me like you did," Hannah snaps, and when I look at her, I can picture the night she came back, how I couldn't hold her when we kissed because of the bruises and the bleeding. Then I look back to him, the person who did it all. The person who talked to the press, who forced me and Hannah to have to be extreme if we wanted to be together.

"I said I was sorry!"

What's a little more extreme gonna hurt? We're already fucked.

"Not good enough," I whisper and my finger tenses around the trigger, deciding I don't care anymore, I'm gonna pull it back.

"Billie, don't!" Hannah screams and I stop for half a second, but I can't not do this. She'll forgive me eventually.

The shot rings out and he collapses to the ground, his blood sprayed on my clothes. Because I wasn't the one who pulled the trigger.

It was Hannah.

Glory and gore go hand in hand, that's why we're making headlines.