your gaze's fixed on the working oven, intently staring at the chocolate chip cookies you've suddenly decided to bake.

the tv is quietly humming in the background, occasionally causing you to become distracted and watch the events happening on the other side of the screen without much interest.

at some point you were so deep in thought that you didn't hear the doorbell ringing repeatedly, then turned in a dull thud, as if someone really wanted to see you.

you jump up, quickly walking to the door and opening it, just to see billie standing in front of you. her nose is broken, cheekbone is bruised, knuckles are covered in blood, running down her joints and eventually onto the floor of your porch.

"oh god, what happened?" taking her hand gently, you pull her into the house, slamming the wooden door shut with your foot. billie follows you silently, like a lost puppy, as you sit her down on the couch, running to the other side of the room to get the first aid kit.*

she just continues to stare at you, not saying a word.

"billie. what happened?" you look at her with genuine concern, your fingertips lifting her chin so your eyes meet, but she looks away, shied.

"asshole got what he deserved," she says quietly, and for the first few seconds you don't understand what she means until the realization hits you.

a few days ago, you turned down a popular guy when he publicly asked you out. the rejection earned you a painful slap, the mark still slightly etched on your cheek. you didn’t know billie knew about it.

"don't tell me you fought with evan" you look at her sternly, though your whole body betrays the softness sitting in your heart.

billie looks at you from under her lashes, blue eyes devouring your heart over and over with each passing moment.

"he hit you" she thinks before continuing. "no one dares touch you.

you try to hide the blush on your cheeks, but the attempt fails, and you silently sit on her lap, bringing the cotton ball with peroxide to her cheekbone, gently blotting away the congealed blood. she winces slightly, but makes no sound.

"you're doing great" you smile, and she can't help but drop her hands to your hips, pulling your body closer to hers. you suppress a sigh.

"why didn't you tell me he did it? you could've called, i swear i'd have killed him on the spot" her voice is annoyed, not because of you, but because some idiot dared to touch what's in her head that belongs to her.

"because i knew you'd do something like that" finishing with her face, you move to her hands, frowning when you notice how badly her knuckles are bruised. "you don't have to fight anyone over me"

she snorts, rolling her eyes dramatically. "first of all, i'll decide for myself what i should do" she says these words like she doesn't mean it. because you both know she'll say 'yes ma'am' as soon as you look at her with that look.

"secondly, we didn't fight, i kicked his ass"