#ginaxbilly

Quiet Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to calm yours down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.]       

Gina winced as yet another empty bottle whizzed past her head and shattered against the wall. Billy was stomping about in some sort of alcohol-induced rage that she was sure would definitely seem less monumental if he wasn’t so goddamned drunk. It escaped her why he would choose her apartment of all places to come and hoover up all of her booze, but she certainly wasn’t in a position to question it now.

As much as she hated to admit it, Billy was scary. He was scary when he came to her in the middle of the night and insisted on staring her down until she gave him what he came for, but at least then she had a fair idea what he was capable of. Now, she hadn’t the slightest idea, and that scared her more than any glorified crime boss could.

She’d let him storm around the place slurring curses under his breath until he managed to hurl one of the bottles directly out the window. By then, she’d run out of patience and as the heard the tinkle of the shattered glass falling to the floor she felt her self-restraint evaporate and her hands ball into fists.

Before she fully realised what the hell she was doing, she had marched up to him and, taking advantage of his inebriated state, had managed to trap him between her and the kitchen counter. 

Her voice was soft in an effort to try and calm him down.

"Relax."