Tear You Apart || Billy Loomis & Stu Macher

𝟻𝟺| 𝐈 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮

{A/N: This chapter does contain some sexual content towards the end, so if that makes you uncomfortable, I recommend skipping it.}

You felt so enervated—too disoriented to recall the events of which just transpired—but something jostled you. Stirring awake, you whined at the tension in your head, the relentless throbbing unbearable.

Black dots decorated your unfocused vision as you grappled to open your eyes. A blurry image of someone's face was all your brain registered as your body was lifted off the ground. Dazed by whoever held you in their arms, the constant swaying with each step they took lulled you back into your peaceful oblivion.

Your limbs tingled from the numbing cold, not intolerable but bothersome enough to have you shifting on the soft cushion beneath you. Peeling your eyes open, a stone fireplace filled your vision, crackling with orange flames as a figure added logs into the fire that dimly lit the room.

The calming ambiance just about seduced you back to sleep when the throbbing pain returned. A faint groan escaped you as your hand shot toward your skull. The figure swiveled around at the noise, and you discovered that Billy had been the one to rescue you.

The thin blanket fell from your shoulders as you sat up, swinging your legs over the edge of the couch. In a flash, Billy was kneeling in front of you with some first-aid as he took your arm to inspect it. About a third of your forearm was blistering red, caused by the explosion after shielding your face from the flames. The pain hadn't occurred until laying eyes upon the injury, and you winced at the burning sensation.

"Billy–" You hissed as he gently applied Neosporin to the wound before bandaging it with gauze.

Your memories were returning to you one by one, sustaining images of the dead bodyguard, the explosion, and tumbling down the hill until there was nothing.

You'd just square-danced with death, barely escaping by a singed hair. It was a reminder of just how fragile life truly was, and you weren't quite ready to lose yours yet.

As Billy moved to sit beside you, you caught his hand before he could carry on to any other injuries you might've retained. "Billy, how did you know where to find me?"

The haze in your head was beginning to clear as Billy's eyes flickered to yours. He too, seemed to be experiencing inner turmoil as he pulled his hand from your grasp to continue aiding your wounds.

"I went to your place to talk," his voice came out quiet and husk. "Roommate said you left to a party."

With a cotton swab and some rubbing alcohol, Billy cleaned the dried blood from the scratches on your forehead and cheek— acquired during your descent down the steep. The stinging only lasted a few seconds, not nearly as painful as the burns on your arm.

"To talk? About what?" You studied Billy's expression, worried by the impassiveness. Had he found out about Stu's endeavor to help you?

After finishing up with a couple of butterfly stitches, Billy drew his hand back as you both stared in silence. A strange chill struck your body, and you began to shiver as you glanced around the room of what seemed to be a cabin.

"Stu was asking all these questions about the past, about Maureen," Billy replied, pulling your focus back onto him. "Figured you were the one who prompted his sudden curiosity."

You went unresponsive, mostly due to the fact that your teeth wouldn't stop chattering but also because the look Billy wore told you he was not happy about you conspiring against him with Stu.

"I never asked him to do that... he just wanted to help me." You rectified, brushing your hands up and down your arms to create heated friction.

"By sticking his nose where it doesn't belong?"