the hoodie still smells like you

BILLIES POV:

i didn't sleep after we kissed. your lips were still on mine, like a ghost. your breath still warm against my skin.

you fell asleep eventually—after that kiss, after whispering "i need time"—you just curled up beside me, like you hadn't just rearranged my whole nervous system.

and i lay there. watching the ceiling. listening to your breathing slow. you said you needed time. but fuck, what was i supposed to do with that?_______________________________________________morning was quiet. too quiet.

you made coffee in my hoodie again, like nothing had happened.no mention of the kiss. no stolen glances. not even a joke.

just silence. and the smell of caffeine and tension.

"you okay?" i asked.

you didn't look at me. just sipped. "yeah. just tired."

i nodded, lying through my teeth. "same."

but inside, i was screaming._______________________________________________later that day, we had a break in the schedule.

i was supposed to be writing. but all i could write was your fucking name. your hands. your voice. the little breath you let out before you kissed me back.

fuck.

i picked up my guitar and played two chords before i had to stop.because the hoodie you wore the night before was still draped on my chair. and it still smelled like you.

i pressed it to my face like a crazy person. shut my eyes and just breathed you in.

what the hell were we now? were we something? or nothing?_______________________________________________that night, you didn't come to my room. i waited.

pretended to scroll my phone. played the same song three times.laid in bed in the exact hoodie you kissed me in, just in case you walked in.

you didn't.

the next morning, i saw you at breakfast. hair tied back, hoodie swapped for a shirt i didn't recognize. something distant in your eyes.

"hey," i said.

"hey," you replied, and that was it.

that was fucking it.

my heart ached. not just a little twinge—but a full-body ache. like someone pressed on a bruise that hadn't healed yet.

i went quiet the whole day.

ignored texts. cancelled rehearsal. locked myself in my room and listened to voice notes from months ago. voice notes of you. laughing. teasing me. humming in the background while i mumbled lyrics i wasn't brave enough to sing out loud._______________________________________________it was 2am again. of course it was.

i was in the hallway, hoodie over my head, socks dragging on the hotel carpet. i didn't even think—just knocked on your door.

you opened it in your boxers and sleepy confusion. "billie?"

"i can't stop thinking about it," i said.

you blinked. "about what?"

"the kiss."

your face did something then. a tiny flicker. guilt? panic? want?

"billie, i said i needed time—"

"i know," i said, stepping inside, closing the door behind me. "i'm not asking for anything. i just... i can't pretend it didn't happen. and i don't think you can either."

you sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing your face. "fuck."

"i'm not trying to ruin anything," i said. "but i need to know if you felt it."

silence. my pulse pounded in my ears. and then you looked up at me. eyes wide. honest. a little scared.

"of course i felt it."

i exhaled. everything in me unwinding and tightening all at once.

"then why are you running?"

"because i don't know what the fuck to do with it," you snapped, standing now, pacing. "you're billie fucking eilish. i'm just—me. if we fuck this up, if we cross a line, there's no going back."

i stepped closer. close enough to feel the heat off your skin. to see the way your jaw clenched.

"we already crossed it."

you looked down at me. eyes wild. breathing shallow.

"then fuck," you whispered. "let me drown in it."

and you kissed me again. harder this time. messier. desperate. your hands fisted in my hoodie like you wanted to tear it off— but didn't.

we crashed onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and breath and everything unsaid. but still no sex. just hands. tracing. memorizing. clutching.

your lips on my neck. my fingers in your hair. both of us shaking, overwhelmed, addicted.

when we finally pulled apart, chests heaving, with our sweat, i whispered:

"i'm scared."

you kissed my forehead.

"me too."

END OF CHAPTER 2NEXT CHAPTER:  SHES STILL ME✌🏽