robbers (sequel) billie eilish

writer in the dark (part two)

A/N: what are some underrated billie fics i need more to readdd

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Did my best to exist just for you...

Billie's POV:

~THREE DAYS LATER~

"Why are you all looking at me like that and whispering?" I snap, not tearing my eyes off the ceiling of my room. I used to keep all the lights red but now I don't even turn them on. Finneas and my parents stand in the doorway but I pretend they're not there just like I pretend I'm not here anymore.

"You never get out of bed except for once a day, Billie," my mom states the obvious, and I pull the blankets tighter and turn away from them.

"So?" I whisper into my pillow, the sound so muffled it's like I didn't say anything at all. I feel the mattress shift as she sits at the edge and they turn on the lights, walking all the way in.

"We have a meeting in half an hour with management," Finneas tells me, kneeling to my eye level. My head feels so cloudy this could be a dream and I don't think I'd be able to tell the difference.

"Why? I'm not singing anymore," I glare at him until he stands up and paces around my room. He runs his hands through his hair and sighs in exhaustion, like I'm too much to handle. I don't know why, all I do is lay here.

"Billie--"

I feel anger rise in my chest and I sit up, eyes switching back and forth between the three of them, hating how they look at me so sadly.

"No! You. Don't. Get. It. I can't-- I can't do it," I yell, my voice falling apart at the end just at the thought of trying to play a single show again.

"So what can you do?" he says in a sharp tone, words slicing through the air like daggers. I shrug, and fall back to my pillows.

"Lay here until I stop breathing."

"We know you're hurting--" my mom starts and I laugh, but it feels fake and forced when it used to come as natural as breathing.

"No you don't. You don't know how it feels. None of you do, because if you did, you'd understand why I can't do it. It hurts to speak, it hurts to get up and go to the bathroom, it hurts to just lay here," I reveal, not wanting to talk at all but hopefully I can get it all out now so I never have to again.

"It hurts to fucking exist," I finish, and pull the blanket over the top of my head. I know they all think I'm being overdramatic but until they've lost what I have they don't get to have an opinion.

"Please don't make this difficult, we have to go to this meeting," my dad breaks into the conversation. I pull the blanket down enough to only show my eyes.

"Can't you see I don't fucking care?"

"Would you rather go to jail then!" Finneas raises his voice, something he never does. I hate that I'm doing this to them but I'm not going to be who they want me to be.

"Doesn't matter where I am because I'm living in my head," I retaliate, hoping they'll let this go and leave the door shut and the lights off. But instead, Finneas yanks the sheets off me and gives me a warning look, but I lay dead and unmoving.

"You're going, Billie," he tells me, waiting for me to stand. Even if I wanted to, I just can't.

Finneas shrugs and picks me up by waist, slinging me over his shoulder and walking out the door towards the car. At first, I scream at the top of my lungs and let my hands curl into fists, punching his back. But it takes too much energy so eventually I give up and let my body go limp as he opens the car door and sets me inside.