The Loser's Girlfriend [A Billie Joe Armstrong Fan Fiction]

Chapter Forty: "We Demand A Sex Tape!"

That this isn’t some sort of a puppy love thing…or a teenage love thing…

All my life I have been in situations which I had to lie to get through. Endless white lies scattered amongst the truth.

But, right now, in the past months, I’m actually feeling sure about her. About everything.

And I’d never admit it but when I say ‘future,’ she’s the first thing that pops in my head.

I replied, with a shit ton of confidence at my answer, “because I’m afraid of losing you.” I searched through the dark and landed on her (even though I couldn’t see it properly) green eyes, “but I’m even more afraid of getting attached because the thought of you disappearing scares the fuck out of me…but I’m willing to take that chance.”

I look at our hands, noticing how her noticeably smaller hands fit in mine. She places one leg around my waist as she moves in closer.

My heart leaps as I feel something landing softly on my lips.

Chelsea’s green orbs fluttered shut as she rolled over and above me, her hands going to my shoulders for support.

I waste no time in wrapping my arms around her shoulder, a hand tugging her hair and, my mouth pulling at her own. Both my hands travel to her thighs and pull her closer, trying to satiate the need to feel even more heat.

She pulled away, “what are we doing?”

I quirked an eyebrow, “what do you think we’re doing?” Before smiling gently and placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

She sat up and looked in my eyes. I felt something warm flow through my veins and I shuddered slightly, hoping that she wouldn’t notice.

She did. “Why? Are you okay?” her green eyes probed even deeper, trying to find an answer.

I shook my head, “nothing…it’s just -- nothing. Nothing.”

She raised a single eyebrow and gave me a knowing look before placing her hands on my chest to support herself from her sitting position, “what were you gonna say? Hmm? What? Tell me, Billie.”

“Nah, it’s too…corny…it’s not good,” I managed to stutter out, hoping that she will just let it go.

“Nothing’s too corny when it comes to love, honey,” Chelsea’s cheeks reddened as she called me ‘honey.’ I fought the urge to kiss her senseless.

I tucked a strand of stray hair behind her ear, “I don’t know how many times I’ve told you before…but I just wanted you to know that you’re perfect.”

She shook her head, “I’m hardly perfect, Billie…I suck at sports, art, guitar, theatre, public communications…” her sentence faded as she shrugged her shoulders in a rather defeated manner as my hand crept up to touch her cheek.