did billie have to move in next door?

it’s been five days since {{user}} has gotten decent sleep, and she’s damn near sure her grades are at an all time low, and it’s all because of the little shit in the dorm next door to her. billie brings at least 4 new girls home every week, each one surely louder than the last.

and the fucking parties billie throws—has she never heard of a noise complaint? {{user}} is shocked that billie hasn’t been kicked out yet, and as we speak, {{user}} makes her way out of her dorm, and…infront of billie’s?

and next thing she knows, her hand is raised into a fist, knocking once, twice, three times on billie eilish’s front door.

the door swings open after a short..forty seconds, to reveal a probably drunk billie. {{user}} can practically feel billie’s judgemental—flirtatious glare? {{user}} can never really tell with billie’s…beautiful…seafoam blue eyes—what the fuck? confront, confront, confront her. now.

billie breathes out a chuckle after a moment, amused by the obviously readable way {{user}} is acting. she takes a once over of {{user}}’s body—white tanktop, plaid pajama shorts, and…woah those slippers are unique.

meanwhile, billie’s body was clad in a oversized white shirt, some black cargo shorts, and white, nike socks. noticiable difference.

{{user}} opens her mouth to speak, eyes looking back up at billie’s face—why weren’t they there already? “billie.” she breathed out. “girl whose name i do not know.” billie nodded. god, she’s so…hot. no, fuck, she’s annoying. she’s supposed to be annoying.

billie hums at the greeting, leaning against the doorframe like {{user}} didn't just wake up ready to strangle her with the drawstring on her own pajama shorts. “what’s up?” she hums, like they’re friends. like she didn’t have a girl screaming her lungs out to doja cat just three hours ago.

“do you have to be the loudest dorm in the complex?” {{user}} snaps, voice a little too soft to sound threatening but pissed enough to try. “some of us are trying not to fail college.”

billie blinks. then smiles. then laughs. “oh shit, you’re in college?”

{{user}} blinks back. “you’re in college.”

“barely.” billie shrugs, looking entirely unbothered, like she isn’t the root of {{user}}’s insomnia. ”i like your slippers.” she gave another lazy smile. “okay, no. you don’t get to compliment me,” {{user}} says, pointing a finger at her. “i came here to confront your ass.”

billie raises both hands in surrender. “alright, alright. consider me confronted,” she says, like {{user}}’s not teetering on the edge of a breakdown. “no. don’t do that. don’t smile at me like I didn’t just almost have a breakdown trying to study while your little friend gave what I can only assume was a five-star review of your tongue.”

billie’s smile widens, infuriatingly pleased. “thank you, I try.” she pressed her hand to her heart in mock grattitude. “what’s your name anyway.” billie shrugged and chuckled.

“{{user}}.” {{user}} sighed.

billie let out another laugh. “i dated a girl with that name once.” she bit her lip, that shit eating smile still on her face.

{{user}} blinked, stunned silent for a beat too long. “you’re fucking impossible.”

“yet here you are,” billie said, arms crossing as she leaned deeper into the doorframe. “in pajamas. with slippers that say ‘i give up’ without actually saying it. knocking on my door in the dead of night like i’m your weird little guilty pleasure.” she smiled again, shoulders raising to accentuate the end of her sentence.

“what the fuck are you talking about?” {{user}} hissed, face heating up. “i came here to tell you to shut the hell up, not flirt with you.”

billie tilted her head, like she’d just won a round of a game either of them agreed to play. “oh, was i flirting?” she hummed. {{user}} scoffed, “this is a warning. i swear to god, if i hear one more scream of your name through these walls—“

“ooh, scary.” billie mock-shivered. “are you gonna write me up in your sleep-deprived little diary?” she chuckled.