warnings ★ fluff, relationship problems
TAGLIST ★ @elvisslut @ambillz @too-sapphic-to-function @dan97 @ilomilobabyy @bilsbunni @samcarpenterlover @ethereal-roseanne @blueblyberry @bugbluemoon @fein4lararaj @bitchesbrokenhearts @ohokaydawg @depressedbutepicobsessed @bilsandbread @wheresmydietdrkelp @bilsbluehairdye @st0nerlesb0
authors note ★ and we continue this is the END btw😭
its been a few weeks—you and billie got together, but never got caught. you both stole glances and quick kisses in the hallways behind corners and made out in empty classrooms.
at home she was different, quiet, more into being held. she would always curl into your warmth and fall asleep with the softest snores, you called her bubblegum. always sweet but ready to pop.
billie kept her friends away from you—knowing they'll do something drastic, you kept your friends mouths shut and avoided bringing billie near them. nobody knew about this secret.. until one day
it was 1:30, lunch time almost over and as you were at your table someone taps you. the school snitch, kristen. her mother was the principal and she stayed running her mouth, always talking.
"hey, can you come here?" she whispered and your friends gave her weird looks, but you nodded and walked with her. "you and billie are together, right? i won't tell anyone if you make her stop bullying m—" before she can finish her sentence she stops and puts her head down. the soft voice of your girlfriend speaks, she knows you hate yelling. "kristen, why are you pressing my girlfriend?" and before SHE can finish you hear gasps and a loud knuckle crack.
"girlfriend?" came from the girls, "excuse me?" came from maro.
the last people who you wanted to hear this, billie pulls you behind her and kristen runs down the hallway before maro can stop her. "you couldn't have told us this? really? out of everyone you chose billie?" you look down—feet together ready for the waterworks. maro pulls billie away from you, gently trying not to start a fight. "i wouldn't have minded if you told me, now that you've been lying i cant even trust you." he sighs and pulls you by the wrist to the car.
you look back watching for billie, waiting for an answer but she just looks at you desperate for help.
if you're both in trouble, how can you save each other? you don’t even realize you’re moving until maro’s dragging you outside, boots scraping against the linoleum as your heart bangs against your ribs. your wrist throbs under his grip, but not nearly as bad as the sting in your chest.
or at least, that’s what it looked like to him.
the door to the parking lot swings open and the air hits you cold and sharp. maro lets go of your wrist but the damage is done — your hand stays curled, like it’s still trapped.
“i can’t believe you,” he mutters, pacing in circles like he needs the asphalt to keep him grounded. “billie? billie eilish? do you know what she does to people?”
you flinch. the anger in his voice feels too big for your body.
“i didn’t tell you because—”
“because what?” he snaps. “you knew i’d freak out, right? you knew i’d try to stop you?”
you swallow hard, eyes on the cracked pavement. “i didn’t want to lose you.”
maro looks at you. really looks. and for a second something in his expression softens. but only for a second.
“you already kinda did,” he whispers.
those four words hit harder than billie’s knuckle crack.
before you can say anything, before you can breathe around the ache forming in your throat, the door slams open behind you.
she storms out like she’s been held back by force, eyes blown wide with panic. her hair is a little messy, her breath uneven. she looks like someone running into a burning building.
“let her go,” billie demands, voice steady but trembling at the edges. “maro, she didn’t do anything wrong.”
“you stay out of this,” he fires back.
billie scoffs, stepping between you and him instantly, body angled like a shield. “i’m literally the cause of this, so no, i’m not stayin’ out of it.”
“you manipulated her,” maro blurts, the accusation slicing through the air.
“i didn’t—” billie starts.
“you did!” he shouts. “you scare everyone! you think we don’t see how you walk around like you own this place? like nobody can touch you?”
billie’s jaw clenches. her fists tighten at her sides.
and you know that stance she’s not angry. she’s hurt. deeply. the kind of hurt that spills into her posture because she doesn’t know where else to put it.
“i didn’t manipulate her,” billie says through her teeth. “i love her.”
maro freezes, heart in his throat.
you… practically fold in on yourself.
because this is the one thing you thought she’d never say out loud, especially not in front of people. especially not like this. especially not when you couldn’t reach her a minute ago.
billie turns to you and only you. like the world’s noise shrinks.
“tell him,” she whispers. “please.”
your voice fails you for a moment. everything fails you. but then you look at her, your billie, your sweet girl, the girl who hides behind shadows but melts in your arms and the truth pushes itself out.
“she didn’t force me,” you say quietly. “i wanted her. i chose her.”
maro’s face flickers confusion, betrayal, something like heartbreak.
“so you’re choosing her over us?” he asks.
you shake your head quickly. “no, i’m choosing truth. i should’ve told you. i’m sorry for that. but i’m not sorry for billie.”
and the moment you say it, billie blinks hard, like she wasn’t expecting you to defend her. like she’s stunned someone would choose her openly.
maro sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “i just… i didn’t wanna see you get hurt.”
“i’m not hurt,” you say, though your voice shakes. “i’m not scared of her.”
billie steps closer to you, fingertips brushing yours like she’s asking permission to hold your hand. you let her.
maro watches, eyes softening reluctantly. “i need time,” he whispers. “this is… a lot.”
“i’m not abandoning you,” he adds quietly. “i just… need a minute to adjust.”
he backs away, heading toward the car. pausing at the door, he adds:
“and billie? you hurt her, i swear to god—”
“i won’t,” billie says instantly. “never.”
leaving you and billie alone in the fading afternoon light.
billie doesn’t move for a second. she just stands there, staring at the ground, breathing like she ran a marathon.
you squeeze her hand. gently. slow.
she looks up, eyes glassy, her tough façade cracking at the edges. “i thought he was gonna take you.”
“no one’s taking me,” you say, stepping into her space.
her breath shakes. “i didn’t mean to expose us. i just… i heard her talking to you and i— i panicked. i thought she was stressing you out and i just—”
“i know,” you whisper, resting your forehead against hers. “i know.”
billie swallows, voice barely there. “are you mad at me?”
you shake your head. “never.”
she exhales shakily, the tension melting from her shoulders as she pulls you into her, arms tight, almost desperate.
“i’m scared,” she admits into your hair. “you’re not supposed to love someone like me.”
you tilt your head up to look at her. “but i do.”
she closes her eyes, breathing you in like you’re the first calm moment she’s had all day.
“then i guess we’re in trouble together,” she whispers.
you smile, soft. “we’ll save each other.”
billie pulls back just enough to look at you, really see you, before kissing you slow, tired, relieved.
like she’s choosing you back.
the rest of the day drags.
everyone’s staring — not because they know, not yet, but because billie’s energy is all wrong. she’s too quiet, too sharp around the edges, her eyes flicking to the door every time someone new walks in like she expects the world to implode.
you barely see her after lunch. not by choice she slipped away the second the teachers dragged you back inside, disappearing down some hallway like she had to get away before she burst.
your friends kept giving you side-eyes.
whispers followed you room to room.
and still, you kept looking for her.
by the final bell, your stomach is in knots.
you don’t even get two steps toward the exit before a hand snags your backpack strap and yanks you into the nearest supply closet.
the door slams shut behind you.
her breathing is wild — not angry, not uncontrolled, just overwhelmed. she’s pressed against the door like she needs it to hold her upright. her hair’s a mess, curls falling into her eyes, and she looks like she’s been thinking too much, too loud, too long.
billie doesn’t say anything—just grabs your face with both hands and kisses you like she spent all day starving for it. desperate, relieved, shaking just a little.
you gasp and hold her wrists gently, steadying her.
she pulls back only when your lungs beg for air, her forehead dropping against yours.
“you okay?” you ask softly.
she shakes her head fast, breath trembling. “no. absolutely not.”
you blink. “what’s wrong?”
she takes a moment, jaw flexing.
then her voice drops so low you almost miss it.
“i thought i lost you today.”
your heart cracks clean in half.
“the way he took you,” she whispers, eyes shining in the dim closet light. “the way you looked at him like you owed him something— i just— i couldn’t breathe.”
you press a hand to her chest right where her heart’s racing. “i wasn’t going anywhere.”
“you could’ve,” she says. “he was right there, saying all the things i know people say about me. that i’m dangerous. that i’m mean. that i hurt people. and you just… stood there and listened.”
you wince. “i wasn’t agreeing.”
“i know,” she whispers quickly. “i know that. i do. it’s just— when he said i manipulated you…” her throat works, “it made me sick.”
you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her in until there’s no space left. she melts instantly, like she was waiting for you to anchor her.
“i chose you,” you murmur. “that didn’t change. even when he was mad.”
you feel her exhale against your shoulder, a soft broken sound she tried to hide.
her fingers slide under your shirt, just to feel your skin, like she needs proof you’re real. safe. hers.
“i hate that you got dragged into my bullshit,” she whispers.
“i walked into it,” you remind her, smiling into her neck. “willingly.”
that pulls a small, shaky laugh out of her.
you lean back and lift her chin so she meets your eyes.
“you didn’t lose me,” you promise. “you’re not going to.”
billie searches your face like she doesn’t quite believe it. like she wants to, so badly it physically hurts.
her voice finally steadies.
“i’d burn this whole school down if you asked,” she says quietly. “i’d do anything for you.”
you breathe a laugh. “let’s not commit arson today.”
“i’m serious,” she whispers, her nose brushing yours. “whatever happens with your friends… with mine… you don’t have to deal with it alone.”
“neither do you,” you say.
she kisses you again—slower this time, the kind of kiss that feels like sealing a pact. her hands slide around your waist, pulling you against her like you’re the only stable thing in her universe.
when she finally pulls back, her voice is barely a breath:
“can we… stay like this a little longer? just us?”
you nod, resting your forehead on hers. “as long as you want.”
and that’s how the two of you stay—hidden in a closet after school, wrapped up in each other, the silence kept outside by a thin wooden door and the promise you won’t let go.
the next morning feels wrong before you even get to school.
there’s tension in the air — heavy, sharp, the kind that makes lockers slam louder and whispers travel faster.
you don’t see billie in the halls.
no brushing past your shoulder like she always does.
it’s not until halfway through second period that you catch a glimpse—billie being cornered against the stairwell wall by her own friends.
and aria—the one who always rolls her eyes at everyone but billie.
you stop halfway down the hall, hiding behind a cluster of kids pretending to dig in their backpacks, just so you can hear.
“you’re slipping,” morgan hisses. “we’ve been asking where you were yesterday and you just vanished.”
“i had shit to do,” billie mutters, rubbing the back of her neck.
“yeah, we know,” aria snaps. “we heard.”
“heard what?” she asks, too flat, too calm.
zev laughs under his breath. “that you have a girlfriend.”
billie flinches. the smallest, quickest movement. but you see it.
all three of them do, too.
aria steps closer, voice sharp:
“you didn’t tell us. you told no one. you’re supposed to be our leader, billie. you’re supposed to tell us things before they blow up in your face.”
billie scoffs, but there’s no bite. “you don’t own me.”
“we protect you,” morgan fires back. “that’s the deal. you keep us close, we keep the school off you.”
“so what?” billie snaps. “i’m not allowed to date someone?”
“you’re not allowed to date someone who makes you soft,” zev says simply.
that hits harder than the others.
billie’s jaw locks. you can tell she’s trying not to react — not to hit something, not to cry, not to break.
“i’m not soft,” she mutters.
“you are with her,” aria says. “and it’s making you sloppy.”
billie’s silence is louder than any shouting.
you want to pull her away, hide her somewhere she can breathe again.
if you show yourself now, it’ll make everything worse for her.
so you stay hidden, nails biting your palms, heart burning.
finally, morgan sighs sharply. “fix it. or we’ll have to.”
billie lifts her head at that—eyes dark, warning, furious.
“touch her,” she says quietly, “and i’ll bury every single one of you.”
billie pushes past them, storming down the hall, and for a second— just one— she turns her head like she can feel you watching.
but she doesn’t look long.
you lie in bed staring at your phone for hours.
not even the little typing bubble.
you almost fall asleep before the screen lights up with her name.
you don’t even get a hello.
just billie’s voice— quiet, shaky, raw in a way you’ve never heard.
“can you… talk to me?” she whispers.
your stomach sinks. “yeah. yeah, baby, i’m here. what happened?”
you hear her breathing — uneven, like she’s been pacing or crying or both.
“they cornered me,” she says finally.
you sit up. “i know. i saw.”
then billie exhales shakily. “you saw?”
“yeah,” you whisper. “i didn’t wanna make it worse.”
another pause — longer, softer, and somehow more painful.
“i’m sorry you heard all that,” she mutters.
“don’t apologize,” you say. “billie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
she doesn’t answer right away. you hear the faint rustle of sheets, like she’s curled up somewhere dark in her room.
her voice comes smaller than you’ve ever heard it:
“they think you’re making me soft.”
“you being gentle isn’t a flaw.”
another breath — this one shuddering.
“i don’t want them to hurt you,” she whispers. “i don’t want… god, i don’t want anyone near you. i can’t lose you.”
your heart drops straight to your knees. “hey… hey, billie, you’re not losing me.”
“i don’t know how to do this,” she admits, voice trembling. “i don’t know how to have something good. i don’t know how to hold it without breaking it.”
“hey,” you whisper, steady and soft, “you’re not breaking anything.”
she sniffles — faint, like she’s trying to hide it even through the phone.
“i’m scared,” she says. “i don’t get scared. ever. but you— you make me—”
“vulnerable,” you finish softly.
you shift onto your side, pressing the phone closer like you could reach her.
“billie, listen to me,” you say gently. “you don’t have to be hard all the time. not with me. not at night. not when it’s just us.”
her breath hitches again. “can i come over?”
“i need you,” she whispers. “please.”
you don’t hesitate. “door’s unlocked. just come.”
you hear her breathe out — a relieved, broken sound that almost makes you cry.
“i’m on my way,” she whispers.
and just like that, the call ends.
leaving your room quiet, the air thick with anticipation, your heart pounding for the girl who will always be there for you.
