need // Green Day fan fic ((EDITING))

⚬ Billie ⚬

"Umm...my mom."

I lied.

Like I would ever live with my homophobic mother again. Pfft.

I almost want to laugh.

He nods, believing it.

"Billie..."

I hear mike say.

"Can you come to do the dishes?"

"That doesn't sound like your mom."

He laughs.

I cover his mouth quickly.

"Shhhh..."

His eyes squint and he lifts an eyebrow.

"Wait...what the fuck. Who was that?"

His eyes look so pretty as I gaze in them, my face becomes a deep red and I can feel him smile under my hand.

They are softer and warmer than mike's.

Purplish-blue that you could almost drown in, wide like the moon, and almost cat-like.

"No one..."

I respond.

'That was a dumbass response.'

I say in my head as i roll my eyes.

"Billie, there's no point in lying."

I hear him bang on the door and I jump.

"I'm on the phone!"

I yell back.

"Don't fucking yell at me, you unappreciative prick. I give you everything!"

He bangs on it once again and i can hear his hand reach for the doorknob.

"C'mon..."

I take Tré and put him in the closet and run back to my bed.

He opens the door and walks over to me.

"Whoever you're talking to.. I-.. I think you need to stop."

He looks around the room slowly.

"I feel you're being too nice to them."

'Talking to someone. Yeah, that's too nice.'

I say in my head causing me to snicker.

He doesn't like that.

He puts a hand around my throat and I wheeze softly.

He has a shit-eating grin as I look at him with pure hatred in my eyes.

"You belong to me...i thought i said that already."

I see Tré peek out of the closet, his eyes even wider than usual.

He puts more pressure and i can't make a single noise.

He slaps me and takes his hand off my throat.

I see the panic and anger in Tré's eyes, he looks like he wants to help but i gently shake my head 'no'.

I hide my face in my arms, i already know what's happening next.

He continues to hit me, punching and slapping.

"Do you fucking understand?"

He lifts my head up and puts his hands around my throat once more.

I get misty-eyed but i don't cry, i barely feel it anymore.

I nod 'yes' slowly.

He stops hitting me.

"Good."

He walks out of my room, slamming the door.

I'm panting and just sitting still on my bed.

No time to cry or pity myself when he leaves the room, I'm not a fucking charity case.

I move on and tell Tré to come back out.