#billy-hargrxve

Trevor frowned, Billy getting emotional was the last thing he expected. He’s usually good with people but Billy’s sadness kind of threw him for a loop momentarily.

𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂   𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒   𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌   𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓

"Yeah, clearly."

Violet eyed the boy as he stood in the doorway, lowering her book when she realised that he wasn't going to leave. Her sarcastic remark at his subtlety had ricocheted right off of him, and she arched a brow in question.

"Did you want something or are you just gonna stand there like a weirdo?"

“Billy?” Steve called out, a hint of both shock and curiosity in his voice. Was it really Billy? After all of these years? Steve wasn’t really sure how that was possible, but here they were.

Hands fiddle with a cigarette carton, eventually bringing one up to his lips.  ❝ Are you always like this, Harrington? No wonder your only friends are kids. ❞

Billy had probably been one of the last people she had expected on her doorstep late at night. A perplexed expression appeared onto Heather's features, noticing that he had gotten drenched in the storm. Her cheeks flushed at how his hair curled on his forehead, how he almost appeared sort of desperate, tired. One could not help but wonder what he had been up to at this time of night.  ❝ Uh— okay, ❞ she phrased. ❝ Just don’t be too loud, my parents are asleep. ❞ Something told her that they wouldn’t be pleased to know that she had a boy over at night, especially not while they were asleep. ❝ Is everything okay? What were you even doing out there at this time? ❞ It was even a school night.

enemies to lovers but one is injured + sentence starters - accepting

    "give me a minute and stop being such an asshole!" it was almost impossible to work with the pressure of him screaming at her. "i don't want to kill you, okay?" how the hell had he managed this? she’d turned her back for one minute.

    nancy's nimble fingers were shaking as she wrapped them around the piece of wood sticking out of billy's leg. "i just don't want to hit an artery and have you bleed out." it didn't look that serious but she was still nervous.

She’d never really been that type of person, you know, looking at a kid and thinking about how kids these days just don’t seem to get it. For one thing, Joyce had always kept in mind what it’d been like through her own adolescence. Life in general was just very, very complicated, and she wasn’t one to judge somebody just because they’d been dealt a shittier hand than somebody else.

It was rare to see, because she’d always thought of her kids as good kids, anyway. They never really hang around the big crowds, if at all, so Joyce herself couldn’t really pass judgement over the majority of the people in her sons’ age groups. But as far as first impressions go, Joyce really wasn’t too fond of this one. It wasn’t the way he looked, only the way he presented himself that seemed to strike some kind of nerve. And well, knowing Joyce, she wasn’t the type of person to stay quiet about something for long.