outcastbillieeillish
You hadn't expected much from the pop-up art gallery in downtown L.A.-just a quiet night, some weird modern art, and maybe a decent espresso. What you didn't expect was to bump shoulders with Billie Eilish while reaching for a napkin at the tiny café attached to the exhibit.
"Oh-sorry!" she said, pulling back with a small laugh, her oversized hoodie sleeves dangling. You looked up and nearly dropped your coffee.
Billie raised an eyebrow at your reaction, smirking a little. "You okay?"
"I'm good," you said quickly, still stunned. "Didn't expect you here."
She glanced around, then leaned in a little. "Trying to keep it low-key. But I guess my disguise isn't working."
You laughed, and her eyes lit up. She looked at you for a moment longer than necessary.
"You got good taste in coffee," she said, nodding at your cup.
"You've got good taste in... well, everything."
Her cheeks actually tinted pink, and she looked down, biting her lip.
"Wanna sit?" she asked suddenly. "I mean-only if you're not busy or anything."
You weren't.
So you sat with Billie Eilish, sipping coffee and talking about random art pieces, the way she hated olives, and how she once tried to skateboard down a hill and ended up with a sprained wrist. You made her laugh more than a few times, and every time she did, she'd look at you like you were a secret she didn't know she was supposed to keep.
As you were leaving, she stopped you by the door. "Hey-uh," she hesitated, rubbing the back of her neck, "you're kinda cool. Can I see you again sometime?"
You smiled. "You're kinda cool too."