Billie
It's dark. Very very dark. I can't see anything.
I'm freaking out.
I put my phone -the flashlight on- on the small table in front of me after I called Blake to have at least a little light. I won't be getting off the couch though. I am hugging my knees and try to not imagine scary noises like a breaking plate or anything.
It's not working.
And it's not like I expected Blake to drop his hockey stick and just come here. I honestly don't know what exactly I expected when I called him. He probably just joked about coming here. He always found it very funny how afraid I am of the dark.
I hear a sound outside. Like a door that is getting shot way too aggressively. I hear footsteps in front of my house.
This is it. The end. I will die. And I have done nothing with my life. I don't sing anymore. I don't write anymore. I don't do anything anymore. It feels like I'm not living anymore since my mother died. At least we will be united again.
I think I stopped breathing.
And my blood stopped running.
And my lungs are not filled with air anymore.
And-
Someone knocks on the door.
I am going to die.
"Billie! Open up!" a familiar deep voice yells from outside. I can tell it's Blake but there's no way I'm gonna get up from this couch. I could step into something or someone could be laying under the couch and grab my foot and then pull me under the couch as well. There could be-
"Billie! Please, it's me. You know it's me," he yells again.
My body snaps forward for a split second, like I was actually about to get up and walk to the door to open it for him. But I'm not. Cause I won't leave this fucking couch for any money.
I don't hear anything anymore.
It's been five minutes and I didn't hear anything.
I don't think I'm breathing either.
Maybe my heart just stopped beating?
Something klicks where my door is. Like someone tucked a key in and tries to unlock the door, turning the key the wrong way at first though.
The door opens and someone steps in.
Now I actually stop breathing.
"Billie. Where are you?" Blake calls.
My head spins towards the hallway. I hear him close the door. A flashlight lightens ups the hallway and I can see it coming towards me until Bake's holding it right into my face.
"Oh Honey I'm home," he whispers.
I glare at him. Probably not very convincing cause I'm still shitting my pants in the dark here.
"Did you just let yourself in?" I ask him, furrowing my forehead.
"We have a key for emergencies, remember?"
"And you thought this was an emergency?"
Blake slowly walks closer to me. He puts down his flashlight on the shelf next to the door. I can see the hallway clearly now. He steps closer to the couch I'm sitting on.
"Well you weren't answering me. I thought this little darkness here might have made you go crazy or anything,"he whispers and sits down next to me.
"I think I am going crazy."
Blake looks at me for another second and then gets up from the couch. I straighten up. "Where are you going?" I ask him nervously.
"I'm just gonna get some candles, Biscuit. Relax, there's no one jumping out of the corner to get you. And I will start a fucking fight if there is."
I think the corner of my lips just lifted for a second. I watch Blake leave the living room and don't know what feeling in my guts I should pay attention to right now.
The fear because I'm sitting in a very very dark -well not that dark since Blake put another flashlight in the room to lighten it up- room.
Or the light warmth I feel in my chest because Blake is looking for candles to lighten up the room. I don't even know where we keep candles. How should he know?
"Blake! How do you expect to find candles without a flashlight?" I yell through the house, not moving an inch.
He walks back into the living room, a bunch of candles in his arms. "Your father told me where he kept them in case something happens. He's well prepared," he tells me.
His voice is very calm. Like he speaks every word closely, careful around me in the dark. He places one candle on the small shelf in front of the window and lightens it up. One next to the couch, to my right. One in the hallway. One on the table in the kitchen, I can barely see it. Just the flickering of the flame. He comes back inside and places one right in front of me.
I watch the flame swinging.
"Thank you," I whisper and watch Blake sit down next to me on the couch.
"Any time, Biscuit," he whispers back and smiles at me.
It feels so wrong to look at him and feel this strange warmth in my chest. I almost feel like I felt when I was eight years old, watching Blake help Flynn to form the cookie dough on the plate in front of them. Flynn couldn't form a cookie round and Blake helped her, telling her how a cookie also could be non round. But Flynn yelled at him to try harder teaching her and he did without complaining.
"When is your father coming back?" Blake asks me calmly.
I watch his mouth forming words and his hair strands flying in front of his face. This is so weird. "I don't know. Did you just quit hockey to get here?"
"You were texting me and calling. You don't text or call me normally. I knew there must be something wrong and then you told me about the lights that are certainly not on anymore. I just felt like coming here."
I don't answer him.
Maybe I don't want to talk about this anymore.
"My mother has already prepared Flynn's room for you. Remember his it's right across from mine?" he asks me smirking, changing the subject. The candle light makes it look even more annoying than normally.
"How can you switch up from being cute placing all those candles in here to being annoyingly cocky and a stupid jerk?"
"You think I'm cute?"
Damnit!
"I didn't say you were cute I was saying you placing candles everywhere was cute. That doesn't imply anything." I try to sound unbothered. I'm not.
I wasn't calling him cute. I don't think he's cute. Well he is handsome, kind of. But not cute. Never cute. Cute sounds like something you compliment someone you actually think are interesting. It's not a word you use to simply announce something. I can tell someone they look handsome. I tell people I think are handsome they are handsome.
I wouldn't tell him though.
His ego is already high enough. I don't need to feed it by giving him compliments he's giving himself anyway.
"I think you look cute all cuddled up on your knees on the couch there," he whispers, looking me straight in the eyes.
Cute.
"Don't say that."
Blake frowns. "Why not? It's what I'm thinking."
"I don't want you to say something like that to me. Not drunk and definitely not sober."
Blake's eyes widen. "I didn't expect you to remember that. Guess I'm way deeper anchored in your head than I thought." He smiles at me.
Not a grin. Not a smirk. A smile. A real one.
But how could I forget? I've been called a lot of things by men but beautiful and cute has never been an option to them. And I don't know what to think about the fact that it's Blake Evans who's the one calling me such things.
Blake scoops a little closer to me. "Listen-"
The door opens and someone rushes inside. "Billie! I saw the lights went off. Are you okay, Honey?" my father speaks from the hallway. His voice gets closer to the living room.
"Billie- oh. Blake, what are you doing here?"
Blake jumps from the couch. "Well Billie called me and I came to help her," he tells my father.
"I see."
Blake takes my phone from the small table in front of me and hands it to me. He walks towards the shelf next to the door and takes his own back, turning off the flashlight.
"I'll leave now."
I'm an awful human being.
_ _ _
Hi!
New chapter I guess.
I hope you like it!
<3