Study Buddies// BILLIE EILISH

eleven

Right as the bell marking the start of class blares through the speakers, a short, intimidating girl steps into the classroom and takes the only seat left, the one used for Jonathan's sorry attempt at a pick-up line.

"Hey, shorty"

I tic.

"Aww, that's cute now"

And now I am blushing. Sure, Billie, my anxiety is cute. Let's go with that. I just shake my head a little, allowing my hair to fall between my eyes and Billie so I can focus in class. Not long after, I feel a gentle finger lift my hair and tuck it behind my ear, the sensation of the touch sending shivers down my spine. I look over to see a pair of ocean blue eyes staring back at me.

My immediate reaction is to shy away and I do just that. I sink back in my chair and remove my hair from behind my ear, my cheeks flushing a light pink color. Without fail, the gentle fingers emerge again, lifting my hair out of the way, this time, to meet a smirking Billie. I just sit still, taking advantage of my opportunity to admire her.

Her features are so feminine yet so sharp and deliberate. Her eyes, ocean blue and her ears adorned in jewelry, her little button nose placed at the center of her face, pulling your eye down to her lips.

Her lips. They look so soft and sweet. I can't help but wonder how they would feel on my own. They are such a perfect little pink, shining slightly from the aquaphor she is always carrying around.

Her lips pull into a smile, jolting me from my thoughts and I look up to her eyes with red cheeks. She giggles softly and turns to the front of the class before placing her free hand on my thigh and writing in her journal.

Although I can't see what she is writing, I watch her hands move the pen around dutifully her mind focused on whatever is in there. Every time she messes up, she squeezes the hand on my thigh. I have no idea if she notices she's doing it, but it's getting me so worked up. I just want to pounce on her right now, she's so fucking hot and her hand on my thigh is sending me.

"mmm-eh ehm."

holy fuck. I just fucking moaned. Fuuuccckk my life. I covered it up with a cough and I really fucking hope it worked. She squeezed my thigh again, how was I supposed to react? I wasn't ready.

Billie's head lifts from her journal to meet my eyes. We make intense eye contact for a moment until she smirks and squeezes my thigh again. It takes everything I have to keep my decorum.

We finish up class and Billie stops me before I leave the classroom, "Wait, I wanna talk to you,"

"Okay," I respond.

Billie gets up from her desk and places her hand in mine before walking us out the front of the school. We stand on the lawn out front as Billie begins to speak, "Okay, here," she says, handing me a pile of work.

I accept it and turn around to leave.

"Kitten?," I hear softly from behind me. I stop in my tracks. God that name.

I feel a pair of arms snake around my waist from behind and I tense up. Please don't hurt me. Billie rests her chin on my shoulder and sighs, her breath hitting my neck.

"I won't hurt you. I am trying to learn to be nicer," she tells me, giving me a little squeeze with her arms to help me relax. I do so, leaning back into her embrace. "Good girl"

This woman lights my whole body on fire, I am tingling from the tips of my fingers to the end of my toes. This can't be good for me. She's straight.

She's straight.

She's straight.

"She's straight!"

I gasp and run away, breaking out of Billie's embrace, a: because she is straight and I don't want to get attached, and b: because I just fucking said that out loud and I cannot face her right now. My chains clink around my neck as thoughts race through my head.

She's straight.

She's straight.

She's straight.

She's straight.

These words ring through my ears as I run to a bathroom across campus so Billie doesn't find me. I stop running as I reach the bathroom and my tics get horribly severe.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

I put my hand over my heart and feel it slow down gradually as I catch my breath. I have way too much practice at this. My tics calm down after a few minutes as my breathing slows and I stand to peer at myself in the mirror.

What a great day to decide to wear mascara for the first time in months.

I look fragile, the blackness of my mascara streaming down my face, my eyes red from tears, and my chains disheveled. The sight of the thick silver necklaces lying on my neck caused one extra lingering tear to fall before I wiped it away. All I can feel is the pain in my head and the pain in my neck. Sometimes, I swear to god, my neck is trying to break itself when I tic.

I take a few deep breaths as I wash my face and make my way to my second class of the day, a few minutes late. I sit down at my desk, surely looking a mess and the teacher pauses, looks at me with concern, and continues with the lesson without a word. Thanks I guess.

I forget about the stupid-ass thing I did while learning about grammar and shit, but after the bell rings the prospect of seeing Billie in Algebra looms over me like a big black cloud of anxiety.

But for now, lunch. I go to the library to eat, avoiding Billie like the plague. I doubt she's ever set foot in a library. While I eat I read over the instructions for Billie's assignments and get lost in my thoughts. The bell rings making me jump and once I realize what it's for, a wave of fear crashes through me.

I pick up my things from my spot at the library and make my way to Algebra, each step shakier than the last. I take a seat and someone sits next to me. Thank the lord.

I relax a little in my seat and bend down to take my notebooks out of my backpack. As my hand grasps the binding of my notebook, I hear someone sit down next to me. Maybe that girl just got up and came back. I sit up and am met with Billie's face, a soft, knowing expression taking over her features.

a/n:

How are you?

No don't skip that, go back and answer ^^