Landon Orion
"Here's the plan," Billie had told me that day. She wanted to utilise Bluebell café as our mainset, claimed that there were all of these majestic pockets of space that were private for us to us without any interruptions and that she had already asked the manager if we could film in the bookstore and had been given the green light.
"I was thinking we could film something artsy and contemporary," she said, holding the door open for me. She wore a fragrance that was purfumed with the same saccharine vanilla beans that Grace had worn. A scent that was a blend of teenage dreams and yellowed pages. Of never wanting to grow up. My face burned warmer than summer light, knees going the consistency of Jell-O. I wasn't going to make it through the day.
"What about a documentary," I'd suggested, voice hoarse. The chimes by the door danced like wild bees against the temperamental autumn breeze, clinking hollowly on the aged mahogany. We took a seat in the back where the shelves hugged like eager children.
Billie had agreed that it was brilliant idea. That we could do a character study of someone great. Someone inspirational.
She'd resembled Grace so starkly then with all of her wanderlust and child-like enthusiasm for the things she adored. Watching her left me breathless.
"Yes, of course," she told me. "That's a brilliant idea."
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
billie || billie eilish
Diversos"I'm sorry about the party. But, it was fun. Wasn't it? You enjoyed it." Billie's lips are hot against my ear, nipping at my earlobe a bit, just enough to where it doesn't even feel real. "You enjoyed yourself didn't you?" ••• Lockland Orion is shy...
