Billie had always been good at reading people, but you? You were a mystery to her. From the moment she met you, your piercing blue eyes and perpetual resting face made you seem untouchable, even intimidating. It intrigued her, though. There was something beneath that stoic exterior, a sweetness she only glimpsed in your softer moments.

You’d been introduced through a mutual friend at one of Billie’s gatherings. She couldn’t help but notice the way you stood slightly apart from the group, your arms crossed defensively. Your eyes, striking and intense, seemed to scan the room for potential threats rather than making connections. Billie couldn’t explain why, but she felt drawn to you, like peeling back the layers of a fascinating puzzle.

She approached you casually, offering her usual charismatic smile. “Hey, you doing okay over here?”

Your guarded expression softened slightly at her concern, but your answer was careful. “Yeah, just not great with crowds.”

Billie nodded, leaning against the wall next to you. “I get it. They can be... a lot.” Her voice was low and comforting, not pushing you to say more than you were ready to.

What Billie didn’t realize at first was that your walls weren’t just about the crowd; they were built from years of trust issues and past betrayals. You’d learned the hard way not to let people in too easily. But Billie? She was persistent in the gentlest way.

Over the next few weeks, she found little ways to get closer. She’d text you funny memes, invite you to quieter hangouts, or simply check in to see how your day was. Slowly but surely, she chipped away at your defenses.

The turning point came one evening when you both stayed late at a small gathering. Billie had noticed you seemed unusually tense, and when everyone else had left, she gently asked. “Are you okay? You’ve seemed off tonight.”