billy hargrove imagines

mornings

summary: the one where you're the love of his life.

word count: 1,027

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billy felt your arms tighten slightly around his midriff, causing him to stir from his soft sleep. as far as he was concerned, your bed was heaven. he felt your cold nose press into the back of his neck, tickling the ends of his hair. a shiver went down his spine. the chilly morning air was a million times more bearable by your side.

a content sigh quietly slipped past his lips. there was a time when words like safety and happiness seemed like a luxury; there were times when they were completely foreign to him. but laying here, with you holding him so close, so tightly, like you were going to lose him, it made all his worries wash away like waves crashing at the beach. the pain of what was to come in his house didn't worry him. because for now, he was with you. and he was happier than he'd ever been.

"morning, handsome," you murmured. the early hours made your voice hoarse and deeper than usual.

a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth, begging to be widened into a grin. he pushed himself closer into you, another sigh full of contentment curling away from his lips like smoke. "morning." his voice was barely above a whisper. he didn't want to shatter the ethereal peace of this moment. muted sunlight streamed in from the drawn curtains, the quiet sound of birdsong filled the air, and your warmth seeped into his veins and made the frost melt away from his heart.

"how'd you sleep? hope i didn't," your words were interrupted by a yawn, "kick you or anything."

he shifted in the bed, turning so he could face you. you looked heavenly. despite the unruly mess of hair, the dried drool in the corner of your mouth, and the half-lidded eyes full of exhaustion, you were nothing short of perfect. looking into your half-asleep form, billy knew. he knew he wanted to be your husband. he'd never seriously considered the idea of marriage, if he'd even considered it at all. the relationship his mother and father had completely tarnished any image of love he could muster up.

but he just knew that he couldn't give you up. not to anyone. and maybe he was being selfish, but he didn't much care. you were his everything. and he made sure to let you know.

"wanna get hitched someday?" perhaps he wasn't as charismatic as usual in the mornings.

the laugh that bubbled from your throat made his stomach drop. for a moment he wondered if he had completely destroyed everything he'd built with you. you were just teenagers; young and reckless and free. the last thing you probably wanted was to be shackled down to some guy like billy. a guy who couldn't even keep himself from being hit by his own dad.

"yeah." your answer came as a partial surprise to him. he didn't quite process what you'd said until you spoke again. "i love you. a lot."

he swore he stopped breathing in that moment. he wasn't sure if he'd died and gone to heaven, or if you were just some apparition or hallucination. he was sure none of this was real, because billy hargrove didn't deserve anything good in this world.

"are you sure? we... we don't— i mean i was just—"

"billy, i wanna marry you. i wanna leave this shithole and go wherever you want." you sounded almost as breathless as he felt. "i want to have a dog. maybe two. we can go on long drives with them. we can go wherever we want and i'll have some trashy ring we bought in a pawn shop. i won't even wear it on my finger, i'll put a chain around it and wear it as a necklace. you know, to look cool. and you. you'll cut that dumb mullet and you'll shave. and we'll be together and we'll be perfect."

he hadn't realized he'd been crying until the pad of your thumb brushed beneath his eye and came back wet. he let out a shaky breath and pressed his forehead against yours.

"you're... you're really something, you know that?" he swallowed roughly. he couldn't wait. he wanted to do everything you'd just said and more. he wanted every morning to be like this; in your arms under warm covers, talking about the future like it was tomorrow.

"yeah, i know. so are you. you're fucking great. you're the greatest person i've ever known." your fingers gently brushed his curly locks of hair away from his face. "don't bat those baby blues at me like i'm gonna leave you. i'm not."

he chuckled softly, tearing his gaze away from yours. everything he'd known for such a long time was just pain. his whole life just felt like one big bruise. hit after hit, until he couldn't stand it anymore. he'd been ready to give up on even being okay in life. he was ready to stay an angry, shattered mess forever.

but you showed up with an ice pack and bandaids. you said it was going to be alright whether he liked it or not. you became his lifeboat as he drifted endlessly in the sea. because of you, suddenly the bruise didn't seem so painful.

he closed his eyes and shifted again so his face was pressed into your chest. he breathed you in. you smelled like nicotine and chewing gum. it was familiar and comforting.

"what'll we name them?" he asked softly.

"what?"

"the dogs. what'll we name them?"

"dixie and bruno."

he smiled against your warm skin. "dixie and bruno," he repeated.

you may have just been teenagers with crazy dreams about endless road trips and elopement, but it didn't matter to billy. he wouldn't give these mornings up for anything in the world. even if your plans never came true, he didn't care. he didn't care if you never got dogs named dixie and bruno. he just wanted to lay in the quiet saturday mornings with nothing but you and your sheets.

billy hargrove was in love with you, and that's all that mattered to him.