is she even fuckin’ real?

first billie brings her on a private jet to hawaii—gets her the most expensive dinner possible, the prettiest view, and the prettiest hotel room—i mean, {{user}} thought billie brought her out on the suite balcony just to sit and talk—maybe drink a little, {{user}} felt sure that was the plan. until billie had got down onto one knee, searching through her pocket for a black ring box.

“what the hell r’ you doing?” {{user}} huffed, like she was trying to convince herself billie wasn’t doing what she thought she was. “bils’…don’t—“ she swallowed, voice cracking a bit, watching as billie breathed out a chuckle and held the box like it was a gem.

“{{user}}..” billie hummed, cocking her head to the side and biting her lip with a smile and a raise of her eyebrows. god, that fuckin’ smile.

the moonlight hit the diamond just right when she popped open the box — like it was mocking {{user}}’s breathlessness. her stomach flipped, chest tight. billie’s voice dropped—soft, but sure. “baby, you know what i’m doin’.”

“billie—“ {{user}} whispered again, like maybe if she said her name enough, it would stop this from being so real. but god, she wanted it to be real. she needed it to be real.

billie laughed under her breath, thumb rubbing over the box like she was nervous, but her eyes never left {{user}}’s. “been thinking ‘bout this for a long time.” she hummed and nodded.

she licked her lips, smile dumb—ugh, dumb as fuck—“will you marry me, baby?”

holy shit.