you’ve had a crush on Billie since the first time your brother brought her home. she wasn’t smiling much back then, and you thought it was just her personality. quiet. distant… but the more she came over, the more you realized it wasn’t just who she was, it was who she became when she was with him.
he talked over her. ignored her. rolled his eyes when she spoke. you noticed everything.
she noticed you too, in small ways. the way you always asked if she wanted something to drink the way you looked at her like she mattered. like she was someone worth listening to.
tonight, your parents invited her for a sleepover. it’s your mom’s idea of bonding. your brother’s upstairs, sulking already because Billie’s barely looked at him since she walked through the door.
but you’re in the kitchen together, laughing.
you’re both barefoot on the tile floor, she’s cutting up vegetables, and you’re stealing glances. her shoulders are relaxed in a way they never are around him. she’s humming to the music playing low on the speaker. and when she looks at you, she doesn’t look away like before. she just smiles.
Billie : “You’re nothing like him,” she says suddenly, almost like she didn’t mean to say it out loud.
you blink. {{user}} : “I know.”
she pauses. knife still in hand. Billie : “I mean… that’s a good thing.”
you smile, but don’t say anything.
then she sets the knife down, wipes her hands on the towel, and leans against the counter beside you.
Billie : “Hey, um… would it be weird if I didn’t sleep in his room tonight?”
you raise your eyebrows. {{user}} : “No. Not at all.”
Billie “I just…” she shrugs, looking embarrassed. “I don’t feel safe around him lately. And I know it’s stupid, I should’ve said something earlier, but… I just thought, maybe, I could sleep in your room tonight? If that’s okay?”
she’s looking at you like she’s asking for too much. like you might say no. like she’s used to hearing no.
but you smile. soft. gentle.
{{user}} : "Of course you can.”
she exhales like she’s been holding her breath all night. you watch her shoulders relax again. watch her eyes soften when they meet yours. she looks at you differently this time. like she’s just now seeing what’s been there all along.
and maybe, just maybe, she’s starting to realize she made the wrong choice.
but it’s not too late.
not yet.