33 ➹ how could i do this

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hostage | billie eilish ❝ it's not like me to be so meanyou're all i wanted ❞

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hostage | billie eilish
❝ it's not like me to be so mean
you're all i wanted ❞

tw: mention of ed

WHEN I ENTER the art room, Nadia is nowhere to be seen which catches me off guard instantly since she's here all the time whenever our times intersect. We have a pattern together woven in like second skin.

"Nadia?" I call out nearing the stairs that lead to where she most likely might be if not on the ground level.

I hear her hum of acknowledgement before I spot her, she's got a pencil between her teeth that she takes out to jot something down, her hand moves reverently against the smooth paper and I can imagine it now, the imprint of led making the other side rise in uneven bumps.

I watch slightly confused my eyes rake down her outfit to see if that's where her unsettlement lies, but it's the same type of clothes she's always worn to the studio. Black skirt and tights with a cream Ralph Lauren cable knit sweater

"What's wrong?" I eye the mannequin but there's nothing unfitting there either, she's moved on from writing to full pacing around the table. Her pencil is discarded near her paper as she picks up fabric scissors eyeing the roll that's down to its last meter.

"There's a tear in the dress." She whispers her eyes still not meeting mine and I hear the distress in her voice.

"What?" I know what she's said but I want her to elaborate, I don't get designer talk, can't she just stitch it? does she have to start from the start? I know there's not much fabric left but surely she can replace the specific piece.

"I must've stepped on the fabric and not seen it and..." Her cheeks flush in frustration and she drops the scissors on the table resting her elbows there as she runs her hands through her thick hair. "...It must've ripped but I would've never done that, I'm always so careful I can't even sleep at night sometimes because I'm worried something bad has happened to it!"

"Hey, you're fine." I've never seen Nadia so stressed, she's barely even looked at me but I know her eyes are wired closed as she regulates her breathing, in and out, in and out.

"I know, I'm just - beating myself up over it. I've put so much pressure on it to look perfect, you know?" Her words come out choppy, but she speaks through it anyway.

"You shouldn't be so harsh on yourself." I comfort, and it's the truth. She should go easy on herself, we're not always going to be perfect. I know I sound like a hypocrite but there's a difference between us, she's too hard on herself - I'm learning how to control myself.

Nadia looks up at me, "yeah, thanks." She doesn't sound like she believes me at all.

"I'm being serious, you're doing fine, great even. Like shit, you've managed to not only draw up the sketch but do a demo, make the silhouette and start on the real thing. You are doing great."

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