Billy was outside your window, just watching—if only for a few seconds. Before long, he was already right up against it, tapping his knuckles against the glass as he grinned, finding amusement in what he knew was to come.

And, of course, he predicted your actions correctly.

The startled jump was instant, almost comical, as you snapped your head around, eyes wide, mouth nearly shaping a yelp. Billy chuckled under his breath, savouring the small amount of fear he'd caused you. He leaned closer, letting his face fill the windowpane, the grin now softer but no less mischievous. His voice was barely above a whisper, just enough to be heard through the glass.

"Relax, it's just me," he drawled, tilting his head slightly as if to coax trust out of thin air.

A moment later, the lock clicked, and the window slid open. He slipped inside with practiced ease, the grace of someone who'd done this a dozen times before.

His boots landed soundlessly on the floor, and he straightened up to his full height, shaking off the lingering cold of the outdoors. His eyes scanned the room, lingering on you, who still seemed caught between annoyance and relief.

"What, you weren't expecting me?" he teased, his voice smooth but edged with a hint of mockery.

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours, the smirk on his lips softening into something more intimate—almost affectionate, though it always came with an undercurrent of something darker. "Come on, you know I'd find a way in."

Billy’s presence filled the space as he moved closer, his movements deliberate, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that seemed to rid you of any possible sense of personal space. He tilted his head, studying your face, like he was cataloging every flicker of emotion that crossed it.

"You were scared," he noted, his voice quiet, almost amused. "Just for a second, though." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "You should’ve seen the look on your face."