Yearn For Agony // Billie Eilish

XXXI

Billie

It's the next morning and the second I got up, I called Leilani.

I asked her how she was doing, told her that I'd stop by her house and pack her things, then explained that I would be meeting Gracie's parents for breakfast. At last, I ended the call by telling her I loved her and that I missed her.

When I arrived in front of her house, I took a step back, lifted the welcome mat up and retrieved the spare key from underneath.

As I entered, a woman on the couch, who I assumed was her mother, glared at me.

"What the hell are you doing in my house?" She spat.

I stopped briefly. "This isn't your house."

"Don't be smart. Answer the damn question."

I adjusted the duffel bag on my shoulder and replied rather harshly, "I'm making sure your daughter has somewhere safe to stay, so she doesn't have to feel threatened in her own home."

She looked taken aback. This isn't exactly how I imagined our first conversation would go either, but I can't say I regret a thing.

"Who do you think you are?" She raised her voice and stood up from her seat.

I'm not sure why she thinks she holds some sort of power over me. If I really wanted to, I could easily kick her ass but I have places to be.

"I'm Leilani's girlfriend. You know that. Don't ask dumb questions, it's not a good look on you—neither is abuse." I say with finality and continue walking in Lei's room.

There I grab handfuls of clothes, underwear, hoodies (even though I'm almost positive she'll continue to steal mine), deodorant, lotion, her favorite hair products, and other small things she likes.

Before I leave, I grab her toothbrush and toothpaste from the bathroom.

I don't look twice as I pass her mom and leave out the front door.

—

Once I've dropped her things off at my house, I head to a local cafe.

My fingers nervously tap on the wheel as I drive. I don't know what to expect and I don't know where to begin.

I initially organized this breakfast in honor of Gracie. I wanted to give us a chance to not only commemorate, but also celebrate her life. Maybe we could share a few anecdotes and tell each other our favorite memories with her.

I wasn't best friends with her parents or anything, but we both loved and cared for Gracie so I think that automatically makes us pretty close.

By the time I get there, I'm early so I have no choice but to wait there and drown in my anxious thoughts.

I order a coffee and sip occasionally until the clock strikes ten.

A minute past ten, I immediately spot two familiar faces. Even though I haven't seen them since her funeral, they're still very much recognizable.

And that's because they both possess certain traits that remind me of Gracie.

Once they've sat down, I don't realize I'm staring until her mother smiles empathetically. I know she knows what I see in them.