like real people do
for zizi! happy birthday UGH I AM BAD WITH TIMEZONES SORRY BOO
'Cake,' Elizabeth says, and writes it down. 'We're going to need cake. I like cake.' Billie is beside her, warm and comforting and dozing off in the late afternoon sun. When Elizabeth prods her with a pen, Billie groans in reply and buries her face in her folded arms.
Some days, Elizabeth can't believe she's here. Away from a childhood of youth choirs, of luncheons in church and sitting in pews and reciting hymns. Away from Uncle Comstock, and here with Billie. With someone she isn't shamed for loving. Billie lets out a whistly little snore and Elizabeth's smile grows wider.
'I love you,' she says, and Billie remains asleep. It's all right. Elizabeth knows they will have time, after this, to exchange the words properly. Months and years to come.
+
When Billie gets home, Daud is sitting in front of the TV watching Twilight Zone reruns. He waves her over and she comes, dropping her bag beside the other armchair. There's a bottle of beer beside him, untouched, condensation dripping down its sides.
'Which episode is this?'
Daud considers her question. 'He's a drinker and now he has a worm in his stomach.'
'Oh.' They watch in silence until Daud turns around to face her, face half-lit by the flicking screen.
'You're home late. Out with the DeWitt girl?' Billie wrinkles her nose and stands up straight, running a hand through her hair. Daud can wait for her answer, as he always has-- since she was a child, slow with words as they welled in her throat. She'd always been serious.
Billie makes up her mind.
'I do like her,' she says slowly.
'The only one who could ever reach me was the daughter of a preacher man--'
'Yeah,' Billie says, and rolls her eyes. 'Thank you. And it's her uncle who was the preacher.'
Daud fiddles with the remote, trying to turn up the volume on the television. 'You're telling me the first impression you had of her isn't the time she turned up on our doorstep preaching Hosea?'
'Shut up,' Billie says, mortified, and flees upstairs.
+
i will not ask you where you came from i will not ask you and neither should you honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips we should just kiss like real people do
