Her hands run through her hair, through her wrinkleless clothes, back to her hair again.
She fidgeted, cleaning her mascara from under her eye. Doing anything she possibly could to distract herself.
"Would you stop?" Billie speaks from behind her in the mirror.
It has been three weeks since the time Billie brought up the idea of Elizabeth seeing her mom. She was consistently back and forth on the idea of going throughout the tour. But when they got home the day before; she had to make a decision.
Billie stands in her doorway, arms crossed as she approaches Elizabeth from behind. She stares at her through the mirror, fingertips skimming Elizabeth's waist.
"You look beautiful, Elizabeth."
She turns to face Billie, a little shorter than eye level. She inspects her lightly freckled cheeks, light ocean eyes. Her blue hair lay neatly on her head, framing her face flawlessly. "What do I even say to her? Fuck you for not raising me?"
Billie shrugs, "Sometimes you have to be in the situation to know what to say,"
