"I guess just sometimes I act out too far. I'm acting and I'm reacting and I'm throwing myself into this huge rage and seeing red and then I stop. And I think, what am I doing? What are people thinking of me? What am I thinking of myself? If the girl I used to be saw me act this way, what would she think of me," I breathed out honestly. To answer Billies question as to why I sometimes give up.
"I never thought you cared so much of what people thought of you," He mumbled surprised.
We were sat outside of a house party sharing his last cigarette.
Which was weird if you understood how me and Billie felt about each other.
We'd always bicker in classes at school, throw remarks at one another. My friends hated his friends and his friends hated mine. But tonight, Billie and I seemed to of got stuck together when none of us could find our so call friends.
We went outside for his last cigarette. He made me swear I'd never tell anyone he was sharing it with me. But he brought up how often in class I lose my temper, how I just shut down, give up and sit back down. He said it was something he could never do.
So for some reason, we were sat on someone's front garden, with music buzzing in the background sharing a deep conversation.
"I guess it's a flaw. I wonder too much what everyone thinks of me. There's a different perception of me in all these heads, and I hate to know some of them are disgustingly too accurate to who I am and some who I'm not,"
He blew out the smoke of his cig. "You really care about that?"
"Terribly. Don't you?"
"Maybe that's my flaw. The fact that I don't. I act out and lash out and I don't stop to think about what people look at me and think in their heads. I guess in some cases, don't tell anyone I said this but, I wish I was more like you,"
My face was heating up. Was it really heating up? Maybe it's the weather. There's no way I'm blushing over something this bastard said, right? "I guess I wish I was more like you too and didn't care so much,"
"I guess I just remember when I get angry it's my rage. It's who I am. And if people see that then it's not like they're seeing any lies,"
"I know when people act out it's them. But that's what I hate the most. My rage gets foul. It's ruthless, reckless, ugly. and it's all mine,"
"And that's why you don't like it reflecting who you are?"
"What if people begin to think I'm ruthless or reckless. Or even ugly?"
"You're not ugly," He half huffed with a chuckle.
"Maybe my personality is. Doesn't that make me?"
"No," He flicked his cig away quickly snapping his eyes to me. His answer fell out with no hesitation, and then my face was doing that heating up thing again. "You're not ugly. Your personality isn't ugly. None of you is,"
"You would've been the last person I excepted to tell me that," I shrugged to him honestly.
He looked like he took offence to that. "What?"
"Well c'mon Billie, we don't get along. You make enough jokes and comments aimed at me to make me think-"
"-Did you think I thought you were an ugly person?"
"Well... I wouldn't have thought you'd think any different,"
He huffed out, the cold air visible. "Y'know I think you're pretty," He gave in.
I paused for a second, there was something about him that merely intimidated everyone. But when he looked over at me, all I felt was butterflies. "You do?"
"Of course I do. Y'know I do. C'mon, I stare at you enough,"
"I didn't think that meant you thought I was-" I struggled to say the word. It felt wrong to think he thought I was pretty. Our relationship had been based on mishaps at other peoples expenses and brutal jokes at one another. "-Well, pretty,"
"Don't make me say it," He sighed.
"Huh?"
He put his head in his hands for a moment. Pausing for a few moments. Was it something I said?
As I looked away from him and into the air, from the corner of my eye he lifted his head back up. Rolling his shoulders as he pulled his hoodie sleeves over his hands. "Your pretty y/n. You're a pretty person,"
I looked over at him. His eyes were on me, they had a soft look in them. A smile so small yet so genuine on his face. It was the first time I'd seen him purely.
Looking down, I smiled wide. "Thanks Billie Joe. That- that means a lot you'd say that,"