Im so blind

The day dragged.

Nat kept herself busy, throwing everything she had into work—cleaning tables that didn't need cleaning, rearranging things behind the counter, taking over shifts from her baristas just to keep moving.

Because if she stopped, she'd have to think.

And she couldn't afford that right now.

She could still feel the weight of Billie's stare from earlier, the way her fingers had almost closed around her wrist. The way she had seen.

The fresh cuts on Nat's arm burned under her sleeve, like they somehow knew they had been exposed.

She gritted her teeth, throwing herself into wiping down the espresso machine.

She just needed to make it to closing.

Then she could go home, lock the door, and finally breathe.

But, of course, Billie had other plans.

It was nearly midnight when Nat flipped the sign to Closed, locking the front door and turning to head into the back.

And there Billie was.

Still sitting at her usual spot at the counter, arms folded, watching her like she had all the time in the world.

Nat exhaled, rubbing her temple. "Billie, we're closed."

Billie didn't move.

Didn't even blink.

"Why won't you talk to me?"

Nat froze.

Her heartbeat picked up, but she forced her voice to stay even. "Billie—"

"I saw, Nat."

Nat swallowed hard.

Her throat felt tight, like something was stuck there, refusing to let her breathe.

"I know what you're doing," Billie said, voice softer now. "And I don't get why you won't just—"

"Because it's not your problem."

The words came out sharper than Nat intended, but she couldn't help it.

She needed Billie to stop.

To drop it.

To stop looking at her like that.

Like she cared.

Billie clenched her jaw, standing from her seat. "That's bullshit, and you know it."

Nat turned away, moving toward the back, but Billie followed, grabbing her wrist.

Nat flinched.

Not because Billie hurt her—because she didn't.

Her touch was gentle, barely even there.

But still, it sent something cold through Nat's chest, like a warning bell ringing in the back of her mind.

Billie immediately let go, stepping back, hands raised. "Sorry. I—"

Nat forced herself to breathe. Forced her hands to stop shaking.

She swallowed, voice quieter now. "You need to go home, Billie."

Billie studied her for a long moment, something flickering behind her eyes.

And then, instead of arguing, she just nodded.

"...Okay."

Nat exhaled.

Relief, or something like it, flooded through her as Billie finally headed for the door.

But just before leaving, Billie paused.

Turned.

And looked at her.

And then, softly—

"I'm not going anywhere, Nat."

Then she was gone.

And Nat—

Nat finally let herself break. The second Billie walked out, something inside Nat snapped. She couldn't let this be the end of the conversation. She couldn't let Billie just leave, not after everything.

The rain had started while they were talking, but now, it was coming down hard. Wind whipped through the parking lot, rattling the café sign above the door. Billie was probably halfway to her car already.

And Nat—

Nat couldn't breathe.

She had spent so long shoving down these feelings, pretending they weren't there. Pretending she didn't care as much as she did.

But the second Billie was gone, the weight of it all crushed her.

Her hands curled into fists, nails biting into her palms.

She couldn't do this anymore.

She couldn't keep running from it.

Before she could stop herself, she pushed through the café doors, stepping into the storm.

The cold hit her instantly.

Rain soaked through her clothes in seconds, chilling her to the bone, but she barely noticed. Her heart was hammering, her breath ragged as she scanned the parking lot, searching—

And then she saw her.

A figure walking toward a car, hood up, shoulders hunched against the downpour.

Billie.

Nat's pulse kicked into overdrive.

Her feet moved before her brain caught up.

"Wait!"

The figure stopped.

Nat's chest heaved, rain dripping from her hair into her eyes, but she didn't care.

Because she had to say this.

"I—I can't let you leave without saying this," she gasped, barely able to get the words out. "Because if I don't, I know I never will."

The figure didn't turn around.

Didn't move.

But Nat kept going.

Because if she stopped now, she'd lose her nerve.

"I don't know when this happened," she admitted, voice shaking. "Or maybe I do. Maybe it was the first time you walked into my café and acted like you belonged there." A breathless, humorless laugh slipped out. "Maybe it was every time you sat at that counter, getting under my skin, refusing to let me push you away."

The wind howled through the lot, but Nat barely felt it.

She took a shaky step closer.

"I tried so hard to ignore it. To pretend I didn't feel this way. Because I—" Her voice broke, and she swallowed, forcing herself to go on. "Because I don't know how to do this, Billie. I don't know how to let someone in without ruining everything."

Her vision blurred—whether from the rain or the emotion clawing at her throat, she wasn't sure.

"But I can't pretend anymore. I can't."

She inhaled sharply, blinking against the wetness in her eyes.

"I love you."

Silence.

The rain thundered against the pavement.

The wind howled through the streetlights.

The figure still hadn't turned around.

And then—

Nat's stomach dropped.

Because something was wrong.

The person in front of her—

Wasn't Billie.

Her heart stopped.

A stranger stood there, glancing at her awkwardly, clearly unsure what to say.

Nat's breath caught in her throat.

"Oh, fuck," she whispered.

She took a shaky step back, her entire body flooding with ice.

Her head snapped around, panic rising in her throat as she searched—

And then she saw her.

Billie.

Standing by the café doors.

Hood pulled up, rain dripping down her face.

She had heard everything.

Nat felt her entire world tilt.

Billie's expression was unreadable.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Neither of them breathed.

Nat's heart pounded so hard it hurt.

Her hands shook at her sides.

She had just—

Oh my God, she had just—

Billie took a slow step forward, water streaming down her hoodie, eyes locked onto Nat's.

And Nat—

Nat forgot how to exist.