Billy Hargrove Imagines

Burning Hot

[Requested] - I just changed the skirt for jeans, because it's winter and I was so cold when writing this that I felt bad for the fictional character.

Words: 3.100+ words

Type: Angst (?) & Fluff

Summary: What's written on the request

Warning: English is not my first language. Sorry if I misspelled something.

It's no shock to anyone that you and Billy hate each other.

Well... Only if there was someone new in school. That poor person would think you two are friends until they saw the random middle fingers, the glares, the arguments, many more demonstrations of hatred.

You aren't lying when you say that you get some sort of satisfaction once: you feel Billy looking at you from the other side of the classroom and you always make something to make him feel annoyed and look away, or when a girl is trying to get 'something' with him - there's nothing like whispering to her how Billy has a non-ending list of STDs.

And Billy always gets this sort of satisfaction when annoying you. It can be by: ruining your dates, your notes, or your locker. There's nothing like seeing you walk in school with a scowl in your face right as your eyes land on him.

Today, everyone has been talking about this Christmas party at Tommy's house tonight. 

You really don't know what will make it a Christmas party, since it will be like any other party at Tommy's, but you're still considering going.

"Hey Y/N!" Tommy shouts a few cars far away from you as you stood at the end of the parking lot. You look over to see him and his friends, including Billy, looking over at you.

"What?" You ask him while opening the driver's side door of your car.

"Are you going to my party?"

"Probably not" You shout back, and he tries to hide his disappointed look.

You get in your freezing car and start driving to your sweet, warm home.

(...)

You walk inside Tommy's warm house to be hit right away with the smell of alcohol and tobacco. 

The loud music coming from the speakers fills your ears and makes your chest vibrate with the bass.

You walk right to the kitchen and get yourself a cup, filling it to the top and sipping it a few times before stepping away from the drinks. As you slowly made your way to the living room, the sight of teenagers making out and rubbing on each other comes into view.

You lean back on the wall as you look around, waiting for the alcohol to do its job to make you relax. 

Your eyes run through the room and they stop on the blonde mullet. Billy stays focused on his drink and pretends to listen to whatever this one girl was telling him.