Everyone knew Billy wasn't exactly a saint, but he was trying to control himself from disappointing Camila, again. He didn't want to screw up this time. However, it was getting more and more difficult for him; it wasn't just the alcohol or the bloody drugs, it was you.

Hearing you sing every day, having to live with you, Jesus Christ, was doing something to him and it wasn't good. Every second of the day, Billy felt like he was going to lose his mind; he knew it. It wasn't just the tension between you, nor the knowing glances, nor your inside jokes; it was how you made him feel as soon as your mouth opened. Hearing your voice calmed him, but it also did things to him that didn't happen with Camila, and deep down, everyone knew it.

"You could change the rest of the song," Billy suggested, putting a hand to his chin thoughtfully. His green eyes wandered from the piece of paper to you, gawking for a second. "I could check it for you, or change it."

All he wanted was to have you in his arms from the moment he woke up until the day ended. You were the only one who understood him, and not having you was killing him.

"We could check it out together when we're done with the band," he suggested in an innocent tone, knowing he wanted excuses to spend the rest of the day by your side.