you see billie before she sees you, standing on the far side of the rooftop bar, arms braced on the railing, staring out at the lights. the hoodie shes wearing, navy blue, worn at the sleeves. it used to be yours. she never gave it back

she turns slowly when she hears your footsteps. her face is older now, cleaner cut, but those eyes? same god damn ones that used to study your face like you were something holy

at the time you were 24. she was 17. you should have known better and maybe you did

“so” she says, voice flat “you finally showed up”

you swallow hard, your throat dry “yeah”

she tilts her head, her eyes scanning you like shes trying to see if any part of you is still the person she used to orbit “didnt think youd come. i thought the guilt was still your favorite hiding place”

you try to smile but its tight “ive been hiding but not from guilt”

“oh, right.” she muttered, sarcasm laced soft and deadly “from accountability”

you breathe in slowly “i know i dont deserve your time but you-”

“dont say i deserve closure” she interrupts “i deserved not to be a secret. i deserved not to spend my eighteenth birthday crying into your voicemail”

you flinch and shes quick to notice

“you made me feel like i was crazy” billie says, stepping closer “told me i was mature for my age. that i could handle it. that what we had was real”

“it was real” you say quickly. too quickly “i just- i thought i was protecting you.”

her eyes narrow “from what? from the truth? from the way people would look at you for touching someone still in high school?”

silence is quick to stretche. it hangs like smoke

she exhales and takes another step forward. shes close now. too close and your heart trips

“you know whats fucked up?” she says with her voice quieter “i loved you. even now, i dont know how not to miss you. i still wear this stupid hoodie and i hate that part of me still wants to kiss you when i should want to scream.”

you look at her. really look at her “i never stopped caring”

she lifts her hand, slowly and her fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt like shes testing if youll pull away but you dont

“you were 24” she says, almost a whisper “i was a kid. you made me feel like Ii was grown”

your breath catches “youre not a kid now”

she searches your face like shes trying to figure out if thats a promise or a trap. she doesnt move away. if anything she shifts even closer all the way until her forehead is nearly touching yours

“you hurt me” she says softly “but i still wonder what it wouldve been like if we met now"

her fingers were still curled in the hem of your shirt, soft but certain, like she hadnt realized she was holding on and now she just couldnt let go

her eyes stayed fixed somewhere around your collarbone, like looking at your face might make it harder to say what she needed to but when she finally spoke, her voice cracked like a confession "i think about it all the time. how you used to press your lips to my neck when id skip class and sneak into your place like i belonged there. i can still feel it sometimes when im trying to fall asleep. like... phantom touches” she let out a breath that sounded like it hurt “it drove me insane then, and it still does”

you swallowed hard. the air was thick between you and she looked up slowly, like the weight of what she was saying needed time to settle “and now.. now that were both adults, i still want to feel your lips on my skin. god, i want it so bad it makes me dizzy”