#soft!billy

It was raining outside, and you were huddled, drenched, in a small phone booth by the gas station. Your hoodie felt like it weighed a million pounds. You wiped the rain from your face, but your vision was still blurred by tears that just wouldn't stop flowing.

Maybe he's right. Maybe I'm a burden; maybe I'm selfish.

Maybe I'm unlovable.

Your boyfriend never let you forget how his kindness — his money — was the only thing keeping you afloat. You'd fallen for him because he was so romantic at first. He'd send you flowers just because you felt sad. He learned how to say "I love you" in multiple languages and never ran out of new pet names to call you to make you blush. He always made you feel special, which wasn't hard with a family like yours. You'd grown up walking on eggshells around your volatile father; you were your mother's emotional crutch and protector. No one ever taught you how to be independent because they wanted you to stay home and under their control. And he, your charming boyfriend, had taken you away from that hell with promises of a safe, cozy little life. Just the two of you.

He left you a shell of your former self. Your quirks were nuisances to be corrected. You were too noisy, too excitable, too "difficult" when you wanted to do things your own way. He took it upon himself to "guide" you. He drained your joy and his anger at the world left you tiptoeing around his feelings. It was a routine you already knew by heart…you'd just been naive enough to believe it was all behind you.

Your friends noticed the nervous way you held yourself, the way you'd try to anticipate upset and stop yourself from being too much.

"Why don't you leave him?" they'd say. "Come stay with me; you don't have to deal with that bullshit."

But his words echoed in your head. He cleaned when you were depressed. He made decisions when you were overwhelmed. According to him, he'd done so much for you that he felt more like your father than your lover and wasn't even attracted to you anymore.

If that was all true, what the hell would happen to your friendships when you became a burden to them? The simple truth was that you were paralyzed with fear at the thought of leaving. You never knew another life outside of your childhood and with him. You didn't even drive because when you tried to learn, he constantly yelled or, as always, acted as if you weighed him down. The notion of getting behind the wheel again made you panic.

But you'd finally had enough. It's how you found yourself shaking and crying in the rain, clutching a dirty public phone in one hand and a quarter in the other.

You were frozen because you didn't know who to call. You didn't want to ruin anyone's night with your drama and neediness. Your breath hitched, and you slammed the phone back into the cradle before sliding to the floor, your head in your hands.

Someone tapped on the glass door.

"Please go away," you begged. "Just…please? I'm having a really shitty night." But the tapping didn't stop. It was relentless. With a huff, you wiped your swollen, sore eyes and blinked up at the intruder.

Billy Hargrove.

You glared up at him defiantly. "The hell do you want?"

You expected him to make some douchey remark or smirk down at you like the smug asshole he was in high school. Every cell of your body braced for it — just another man making you feel small. What else was new? So it surprised the hell out of you when his face came into focus and he looked worried instead. His pretty lips twitched in a frown, his brow furrowed, and there was real concern behind his eyes.

"You okay in there?" His voice was softer than you imagined it could ever be, though it still held an edge of annoyance that told you he hadn't turned into some saint. You sniffled, speechless and taken aback for a moment. When he sighed impatiently, you reached over and slid the door open.

Should I tell him the truth?

You warred with yourself internally. On one hand, you really needed a friend. On the other, Billy had never been one. You weren't sure he knew how. What you did know for certain was that you were alone, afraid, and more depressed than ever before. What the hell?

"No. I'm pretty fucking bad, actually." A self-deprecating laugh escaped you, and you shook your head as more tears fell. Billy looked like he was two seconds away from turning heel and getting the hell out of dodge; your tears made him uncomfortable — you could see it in the tense way he held his broad shoulders. The chilly wind whipped into the booth, making you shiver. "Well?" you prompted. "You coming in or what?" He hesitated for a minute more before sidling into the cramped spot with you and kneeling.

"Gonna tell me what's wrong?" he asked in a low, careful voice. He was so close you could smell whatever gum he was chewing. Big Red, if you had to guess. Warmth radiated from him despite the chilly night air, and his cologne smelled so…

You shook yourself out of it. What the hell is wrong with me?

"I — yeah. Yeah, sure." You took a deep breath and tried to steel yourself against more tears. "My boyfriend, he—"

"That sonofabitch hit you?" Billy growled. His muscles went rigid, bulging against the sleeves of his grease-smudged Aaron's Auto T-shirt. Your eyes widened; he was making a hell of an assumption.

"No! No, God no. As if I wouldn't fly off the handle if he tried." You rolled your eyes. "He's just a real…he's a shithead, okay? He makes me feel fucking worthless no matter what I do, and I'm tired of it. He says I'm like a child. He's the one who moved me into his place as soon as I graduated, and now he complains because I don't live up to the version of me he idealized! I'm not neat enough or quiet enough or ambitious enough for him. And believe me, he never lets me forget it." Tears welled up again; you hastily brushed them away. "Being alone has to be better than whatever the hell this is. I know that, but I just…" You trailed off.

"Just what?" he said, irritated. "Case closed. He's a goddamn cradle-robbing control freak. What more is there to say? Pack up your shit and go, I don't know, move back in with your folks for a while."

"It's not that simple." There was a whiny quality to your voice that you hated. That your boyfriend hated most of all. (Childish) Billy tilted his head and looked at you — really looked. You felt vulnerable in a way you didn't expect, like he was cracking you open and examining everything you tried to suppress. Color rose on your cheeks, and you turned away.

"Hey, don't do that. Look at me." You almost scoffed at his command, but the way he said it was soft, almost pleading. Your heart skipped a beat, and your head turned back in his direction like it was pulled by gravity.

Billy had always been attractive. He was the hottest guy in Hawkins, and he knew it. That golden, curly hair. The muscles, the tan, the confidence that rolled off of him in waves that turned every woman's legs to jelly. And there had always been rumors that he was fantastic in bed. He noticed your gaze wandering and laughed under his breath. "Don't start that shit. I'm not your Prince Charming and I'm not here to ride off with you on a white horse or something stupid like that." His features softened. "But I've been around enough controlling assholes in my life to tell you it doesn't get better. It never fucking gets better. So if you're thinking of staying — my eyes are up here, look at them — if you're thinking about staying for whatever bullshit reason the fear is giving you…you'll never be free. You'll always be stuck in a cage. It's not worth all the pain that comes with it…is it?"

He was so commanding, and yet you didn't fear for a second that he'd belittle you or raise his voice like the others. The phone booth suddenly felt too hot, too cramped. All you could smell was cinnamon and the musk of that cologne that had made you lose your train of thought earlier.

Billy snapped your attention back to the present with another dramatic sigh. He was waiting for an answer.

"Oh. I…no. It's not worth it." You huffed out a bitter laugh. "But what the fuck am I supposed to do? I have nothing. No car, no money, no job now that I've been laid off. I'm useless." You froze again when his thick, calloused fingers held your chin in place, forcing you to keep eye contact.

"You're not useless. You've just been alone with that asshole for so long he's planted the idea in your head that you'd fail without him." There it was again, that tone that begged you to listen closely. It hit you all at once — he'd been through this before. He knew what it was like. These weren't empty words from a well-meaning but clueless friend. He was someone who'd made it out. Your chin trembled as fragile hope sparked in your chest.

Billy dropped his hand. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"N-no' I'm not scared," you stammered. "I've just never met anyone like you before…someone who's actually found the greener grass on the other side instead of—"

"Just more bullshit?" he guessed. You both smiled a little at that.

You nodded. "Yeah, exactly." Understanding passed between you, and you felt more at ease — that is, until another voice crept back in. Your face fell. "Listen. I don't know how to get to that place, though, and the last thing I wanna do is be a burden, so maybe I should just—"

"Should just what?" he asked, that edge of irritation creeping into his voice again. "Go home and wither away? You're not a goddamn burden. If you were, I'd have gone already. I don't waste my time on whiny bullshit." Now that sounded like the old Billy. It was sort of comforting; at least you knew he wasn't lying. You opened your mouth, maybe to protest again, but the look he gave you made it clear he wasn't in the mood to argue. "We're going to get your shit. Come on." He tugged you up by the hand and you let him lead you to the Camaro he still drove all these years later. It was warm and dry inside, and the seats were comfortable.

"I don't have anywhere to go after—"

"Yeah, you do." Billy's knuckles tightened on the wheel like he was bracing for you to chicken out. To his surprise, you sat there silently, your hands folded neatly in your lap. You couldn't speak if you tried. You were in shock at his implication…and you felt a secret thrill that clashed strangely with the dread of the inevitable confrontation.

Your boyfriend wasn't pleased when you showed up with Billy in tow. He couldn't block your way, not with Hawkins' most notorious bad boy standing right there. But he didn't need to get physical — he never did. He knew how to hurt you without lifting a finger.

He laughed in that incredulous, resentful way he always did when you triggered his temper. "Are you serious?" When you didn't answer, he followed you down the hall to the bedroom you shared. Billy wasn't far behind. "What, you gonna shack up with him now? Good fucking luck. You can't use him, he doesn't have any money!" It was another one of his favorite lines, calling you a gold digger when he knew you never got with him for financial gain. You'd loved him back when he was just a stocker at Bradley's Big Buy, before the firm hired him. You sighed; he was trying to bait you and you knew it.

"Could you just leave me alone, Danny?" You were throwing things haphazardly in boxes Billy had picked up from his work and jamming clothing into the one suitcase you owned. You couldn't afford to worry about a neat packing job; you needed to get through it fast, before you let fear win.

"Sure I'll leave you alone…just as soon as I make sure you're not stealing my shit to pawn off or something." What did he even have that was worth taking? You wanted to laugh. You wanted to spit in his face for thinking so low of you when all you'd done was try to be what he wanted. When you didn't rise to it, Danny scoffed and leaned in, forcing you to notice his derisive sneer. "Real mature. Giving me the silent treatment like the petulant CHILD you are!" Billy had been a silent presence beside you until he saw a tear roll down your cheek.

"You wanna back the fuck up, amigo?" He held out an arm to bar Danny from getting any closer. "I don't think she has anything to say to you." But Danny was like a dog with a bone.

"That's right, get another man to fight your battles for you! God knows you can't do it yourse—" Billy's hand closed around the collar of Danny's shirt, and his feet left the ground.

"That's enough."

Danny may have been a real bastard when he was angry, but he wasn't stupid. You were left to pack the rest of your things in relative peace. The last thing you did was leave the house key on his desk with a note: A golden cage is still a cage. I asked for neither.

Your hands fidgeted in your lap on the drive to Billy's house, wherever that was. He hadn't said a word since the two of you left your old place. You didn't want to be the first to break the silence. You already felt indebted and didn't want to risk annoying him. He was the first to speak, somewhere on Kerley 20 minutes later.

"You good?" It was a simple question but you had no simple answer, so you shrugged and turned the focus onto him.

"You're…different now. What happened?" Your body shrank back into the seat as soon as the words left your mouth; you braced for anger. Instead, he just threw an amused glance your way.

"You mean, why am I not a raging asshole anymore?" Your shoulders dropped as you relaxed and a relieved smile touched your lips. He was taking everything in such stride — it gave you whiplash. You nodded, and he lit a cigarette at the red light before answering. "Three reasons. First, I got away from my piece of shit old man. It's a lot easier to sleep at night without a broken rib or a concussion." He said it like it was a joke, but it made your heart ache. You'd had no idea. Sure, you'd noticed the bruises, the cuts, the way he favored one side sometimes — you just figured they were from fighting with the other macho douchebags. "Second, I almost died once, and it put a lot of shit into perspective." Your eyes slid over to the driver's seat warily. You weren't sure if he was fucking with you. The raw honesty on his face put that to bed. "Third, court-ordered anger management classes. My punk-ass little sister says they must be working since she can stand to be around me now." He smirked and took a drag of his cigarette before holding it out to you, a silent offer.

"Thanks, but I don't smoke."

"Good. Don't start." He just kept puffing away, though. Hypocrite.

You lapsed back into silence. Memories floated to the surface of your mind, things you hadn't thought about in years. A little redheaded girl scowling at Billy as he barked something at her outside of the Palace Arcade. The same girl, skating alone, looking like she'd rather die than be in Hawkins. Billy telling his date that Little Red wasn't his sister and not to call her that anymore. The fury with which he sped out of the senior lot that day.

"Must've been something scary," you murmured. "What you went through that made you change." His knuckles tightened on the wheel until they were bone white. Those perfect lips pressed into a thin line and he threw the half-smoked cigarette out of the window.

"You could say that." He was trying hard to keep his emotions in check. The old Billy would've lashed out when you got too close to the truth, and you didn't have to be close buddies with him to know that. You bit your lip and turned your face to the window, watching the trees blur by. God, he drove fast.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried."

"Nah, sweetheart, I'm the one who brought it up. Don't sweat it." Sweetheart? He didn't offer anything more. He wasn't ready, and you weren't about to push your luck.

Both of you were relieved when the trailer park came into view. You stopped outside one painted a pale blue with a small covered porch. "Ain't much, but it's mine," he said, swinging a leg out of the car. "Yours now, too, I guess." You watched as Billy picked up your heavy old suitcase like it was nothing and hauled it up the rickety steps. Your heart pounded in your chest at the effortless display of strength…and at his assumption that you'd be staying long-term. You still weren't entirely convinced that you weren't stuck in some bizarre dream.

He’s absolutely ecstatic when he finds out

He already knows you’re the one 

He’s decided that you’re the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with 

Have a family with 

Grow old with 

So when you tell him, he’s elated

He’s got you in his arms, holding you tightly, but not too tight 

He takes your face in his hands and looks at you with pure adoration on his face 

He kisses you a million times, on the lips, cheeks, nose, chin, forehead 

He’s on his knees then, leaving just as many kisses to your tummy 

His hands are on your hips, holding you to him as he rests his cheek against your body 

He’s by your side the rest of the night then

One of his hands is on you constantly 

He’s got a smile that just won’t go away 

He spends the evening holding you and even opens a new bottle of champagne he’s had 

He pours himself a glass and gives you some sparkling water 

That night he makes love to you when you both head to bed 

He’s soft and gentle, worshipping your body 

He gives you his all, making sure you feel just how much he loves you and how happy he is that you’re the mother of his child 

Once you both shower and are nice and clean, ready for bed

He leans down and rests his head against your tummy 

He isn’t sure if you’re asleep already or not but he speaks to your tummy anyway 

“Hi. It’s your dad.” 

He traces his fingers over the skin even though it doesn’t look any different than it usually does 

“I love you. I promise I’m gonna be the best dad. I’m gonna give you everything you could ever want. I’ll protect you and your mom always. I’m gonna give you the best life.” 

You stay quiet, letting him speak to his child and simply run your fingers through his hair, knowing that he will make sure his child has a life he will love and enjoy 

General@a-dorky-book-keeper  @jigsawlover10  @titty-teetee @crushed-pink-petals-writes @felicity-x0 @vibranium-soul @ateliefloresdaprimavera

he likes singing very badly to you when you’re sad

he’s pretty reluctant to hold your hand at first

he’s the California Bad Boy, after all; he has an image to uphold

having his arm around your shoulder is a given -- i mean, he needs to show that you’re his somehow -- but holding hands means something to you

but you don’t bother him too much about it, you just kind of let it be. trying to change his mind is a task you’re not quite ready to tackle yet

despite your lack of nagging, billy can sense that something’s off. so one day, as he’s walking you to class (bc of course he walks you to class), he links your pinkies together and carries on as if nothing significant is happening

he doesn’t think much of it at first -- he honestly isn’t even sure if you’ve noticed what’s happened, but then he sees your face-splitting grin and it’s all worth it

from then on, you always lock pinkies

after he’s had a bad day, he’ll come over and nuzzle your tummy and just rant about all the shit that’s annoyed him while you play with his hair

i think it’s safe to say that you and max grow pretty close

billy will never admit it but he absolutely adores your friendship with his sister

hist friends are constantly bagging on him for how whipped you have him, but he never protests

you’re constantly teaching each other stuff

you know how to play the electric bass? billy is suddenly all about learning how to play

you don’t have your license yet? billy teaches you how to drive, which is terrifying for the both of you, but you get through it in one piece

after a while, the two of you develop a halloween tradition

to appease billy, you’ll go to a party for an hour or two before both returning home to binge horror movies and pass out candy

lots of tickle fights

these usually end badly seeing as your natural reflex is to jerk your knee upwards

in response, you apologize profusely while trying not to giggle

billy usually follows with “no, i should’ve known” and “it’s cool. i didn’t want kids that badly anyways”

wouldn’t hesitate to give you his jacket if you were cold

“i’m not even cold. take it.”

“looks way better on you anyways, babe”

it’s safe to say that billy worries you more than just a little, and you’re not quiet about it either, so he makes a few changes for your sake

just remember that this is billy fucking hargrove and he’s not gonna turn his whole life around for some stupid high school sweetheart. as much as he loves you, he doesn’t actively believe in that shit but, hey, if it happens, it happens

but he’s open to making some changes

for example, you’re worried that he won’t be able to go to college because he’s failing all his classes

so he starts paying a little attention in class and he turns in a few assignments here and there. no big deal, just enough to help him pass

and it worries you that he’s constantly getting into trouble so he knocks it down a notch so you’re not so worried all the time

Things were going on longer than he thought they would. But that was fine. He just wanted her to stop being so fucking uptight, get her head out of her goddamn ass, and just admit that she didn’t hate him. That maybe, she wanted him.

When things were going good, way better than he expected, he stuck around. Sure, she didn’t want to sex, shy little virgin, but she was open to other things. And when she was relaxed and not trying to impress anyone, she was actually fun to be around. 

He never cared for dates. Never knew what to talk about for hours. But she was good at it. She was smart enough to keep the conversation going for longer than he ever thought he could stand. Taking her out stopped feeling like a chore, a means to an end, and something he looked forward to. 

Of course, after the dates were just as fun as well.

She led him by the hand, her skin always so soft, through the mess of her house. He never judged her for it, though. It wasn’t her doing. 

Once upstairs, she pushed open her bedroom door and flicked on the lights. The contrast to her room, her sanctuary, and the rest of the house never failed to shock him. Her room and her bathroom were always neat as a pin. Not one thing out of place. 

Closing the door, she practically threw herself onto him. Lips locked, he held her close, keeping her steady. She seemed more eager tonight. Maybe she’d want to go all the way? If not, he still made plans to see Maria Hill afterwards. He didn’t feel the need to tell Stacy this, though. She knew they weren’t exclusive. He had every right to hook up with whoever he wanted to. But, still, he didn’t want to say anything. 

He had her pinned on her bed minutes later. She moaned and arched and pleaded every time he touched her, and god did, he love hearing her. 

She wiggled her hips when his fingers ran up her legs and under her skirt. Twisting his fingers around her panties he pulled them down and off, making a mental note to take them with him before he leaves. 

All he had to do was tap her thighs and they fell open for him, making him smirk. He leaned over her, lips kissing the shell of her ear before he spoke. “You’re so eager today, princess. What gives?”

“I just…” She tried wiggling down closer to where his hand was placed on her thigh. “I want you.” 

“To do what?”

“Right now? To touch me.” 

“How can I say no to that?” He obliged, moving his hand up and easily finding her clit. Jesus, she was so wet his fingers easily slid around her little bud. 

“Fuck! Billy!” She threw her head back against her pillows, fingers gripping her bed sheet. 

He loved it when she yelled his name. Drove him wild. “Say my name again, sweetheart.” 

As she opened her mouth to comply, he slipped a finger into her. Her back arched as he curled it, he knew how to work her over good now. His name barely recognizable as it tumbled from her lips as a gasp. 

Sliding another finger in, he held her eyes as he thrusted them in and out. He liked watching her face. Dark eyes clouding over in pleasure, unable to focus. Pink flushing her skin, highlighting all her freckles. She had gotten better at keeping the eye contact too. He could get her to do anything with a few sweet words and praises.

She was trembling and biting her lip. He knew she was getting close. “You wanna cum on my fingers, princess?”

She nodded wordlessly, legs twitching. 

He didn’t get to tell her what she had to do to cum. A loud, banging interrupted them and a scream. “STACY!” 

She bolted up at hearing her name being called. “STACY!” 

Pushing Billy off her, she scrambled to make herself more decent. “Shit! Fuck! Shit!”

“STACY!”

Opening the door, she called over to him. “Stay here, okay? I’ll only be gone a minute.” With a frazzled and apologetic smile, she left her room. Part of him thought he could just sneak out the window and leave before she came back. But he couldn’t do that to her. She was too special.

From her room he could hear muffled voices. Stacy’s was easy to make out. He assumed the other belonged to her mom. He had never met her but who else would show up banging? Stacy said her mom would lose her keys all the time. Maybe that was it. 

The voices were getting louder and he could make out the intensity of them. Something he was very familiar with from his own home. He knew he should stay put like he was told, but the pull to find out what exactly was happening was too much. Quietly, he left Stacy’s room and crept down the small hallway. 

He knew the third stair from the top creaked no matter how you stepped on it so he didn’t go down that far. Just far enough to see the rest of the living room and quickly dive away if need be. 

Stacy’s mother’s voice rang clear as day from the kitchen, hidden from his view. Her words slurring together. “You’re so fucking useless!” Something shattered right after. A glass? A plate? 

“I’m sorry.” That was Stacy’s plea. “I didn’t… I just thought you would like it.” 

“You ruined what I had!” Another something fell to the floor. 

“I just wanted to help!”

A glass was thrown from the kitchen, whizzing right past Billy’s line of sight before falling to the ground and smashing. “You haven’t done anything helpful since your birth!” 

“What!?” The shrill in Stacy’s voice worried him. He knew what happened when he talked back to Neil. “I’m the only one working to keep a roof over our heads while you just get drunk and high all fucking day!”

There was a beat of silence before he heard the unmistakable sound of skin striking skin. “Fucking bitch,” her mom spat. “Useless fucking bitch.” 

Moving footsteps had him darting back to Stacy’s room for cover. He wasn’t sure if he should pretend he hadn’t heard the altercation. He knew family fighting was intimate and not for others to see but hearing such harsh words thrown at Stacy… And getting hit… He didn’t know if he could keep quiet about that. 

The creaking stair told him she'd be there in just a moment. He had to make his decision quickly. She kept her head low as she reentered the bedroom, and he settled on not saying anything. That is, until he got a glimpse of her face. 

There was a cut under her eye. It wasn’t big but it was red and starting to bleed. “Fuck,” he muttered to himself, moving to her side as quickly as he could. He tried to take her chin in his hands but she moved away. 

“It’s okay.” He could barely hear her words. “I’ll be okay.” 

“Baby, look at me.” His voice was gentle but commanding. She obeyed like usual, still putty in his hands. The drop of blood had swelled and was starting to fall down her poor cheek. “C’mon.” He stroked her uninjured one. “Let’s clean that.” 

She nodded and let him lead her to her bathroom. She sat on the toilet, hands folded in her lap while he got a washcloth. Warm soap and water always did it. That’s how he’d clean his gashes from Neil. 

Pressing the cloth to her face, she didn’t flinch. She didn’t look up at him either. She kept her gaze trained on her hands. “I didn’t want you to see this.” 

“You don’t have to explain.” 

“She’s not always like this, either. Usually.” 

With the blood wiped away, her cheek just looked red and tender. Placing the cloth in the sink, he held out his hand to help her up. She accepted, placing her small hand in his larger one. “You don’t have to defend her. She’s a bitch.” 

She went into her bedroom and sat on the bed. “She’s not! She’s not… she just… It’s not her.” 

Billy knew her mom drank and did drugs. Stacy had mentioned it to him early on though he could have figured it out on his own. Everyone in Hawkins knows what goes on on her street. But seeing the ramifications of it was different than just hearing it in passing. 

He sat down next to her on the bed. “What got her all upset tonight?”

“A couple days ago she was… I don’t even know what she was on. Meth? Cocaine? Whatever. She wanted to bake or something. She made this huge mess in the kitchen and she was all riled up and then just left the house. I didn’t touch it for awhile, thinking she’d come back soon and when she didn’t I cleaned it up. I guess I wasn’t supposed to do that.” 

He felt sadness and rage and maybe empathy. Something as stupid as doing the dishes made her mom curse her out and hit her. Part of him wanted to go down and let her mother know what a fucking bitch she was, but that wasn’t his place.

Standing up, Billy pulled his tank top over his head. Stacy watched him curiously and unsure. “I was late picking Max up.” He turned around and from her gasp he knew she saw it. “Neil laid into me and I fell on some empty beer bottles. They broke.” It was hard for him to see the cut on his back, but he could still feel it when he bent or turned certain ways. He knew it was big and it was taking a long time to heal.

This isn’t the first time there’s been a physical mark on him from Neil that he had to explain away. I got into a fight or Max left her fucking skateboard laying around were his go to lies. Most of the girls he fooled around with didn’t question it. Stacy didn’t either, but she always had this look in her eyes like she didn’t quite believe him. Never once did she push him to talk about it, though. Now he knew why.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was so soft and delicate. He felt it in his core. “You don’t deserve it.” 

“Neither do you,” he said, uncomfortable with her sympathy. “I can see why you’re putting in so many hours at the library.” 

Twisting her fingers, she bit her lip before looking up at him. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.” 

“All the college’s I got accepted to offered to give me money to pay for it. I’ve just been saying I can’t afford to go.” Her eyes started to tear up. He had seen girls cry before. Shit, he had made girls cry before, but this was different. Seeing Stacy cry made him want to move mountains for her. Made him want to destroy whatever it was that caused those tears. And he hated it. 

Leaving his shirt off, he took his seat next to her again. Reaching out, he took her hand in his. “Why’s that?” He asked. 

“I’m scared,” she croaked. “I’m scared I’ll leave and I’ll come back and everything will be gone. She already lost the car, I’m scared she’ll lose the house and we’ll have nothing. Or I’ll come home and I’ll find her…” 

The moment she started to really cry, he pulled her to him. He didn’t even know he was doing it until she was on his lap, clinging to him. Her wet tears were pressed against his toned chest and he knew he should be annoyed but he wasn’t. Her sobs were too heartbreaking. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair. Her body fit so well against him and she was always so warm. Comforting her just felt right. 

“Do you ever wonder,” she said between her sniffles, “when they stopped loving you?”

“I’m not sure they ever did.” His throat was suddenly dry but fuck he was not going to cry. “I’m not sure I’m worth it.” 

She perked her head up instantly, eyes still red and watery. “Don’t say that.” She reached up to touch his cheek and he didn’t want to lean into her touch but he did. Her skin was just so damn soft. “You are worth it.” 

His laugh was forced and painful and she could tell. Her eyes were full of concern. “Thanks, sweetheart, but I promise you, I’m not.” I’m a worthless piece of shit he fought so hard not to add. Words he’d heard so many times from Neil he started to believe them. 

Her face scrunched up as she shook her head wildly. “Billy,” she said once she had stopped. Her small hand still on his cheek, stroking. “I promise you are.” She bit her lip again and he started to panic. “I lo-” He cut her off with a kiss, not wanting to hear her words. 

No, she couldn’t love him. He was violent and reckless and didn’t care about anyone but himself. She was everything he wasn’t. She was good and kind and maybe an uptight bitch sometimes but that’s what drew him in. 

No, she couldn’t love him because if she did then he would have to confront the feelings, real feelings he had for her. He wasn’t ready to think about how much he loved her company. How much she made him laugh and smile and forget about the real world. How much he needed her. 

Slowly he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. “Don’t say it.”

“Okay,” she said softly and kissed him again, long and slow and fuck her for just putting her feelings into the kiss. She didn’t need to say with words when she could translate through touch. 

Billy hated how she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her chest against his. She was trembling in his embrace as she kissed him. He held her hips to keep her close.

The kiss lasted a while and when she finally pulled back, she was panting. Her lips were plump, and her eyes hooded as she gazed at him. God, he just wanted to kiss her again and again. Instead, he gently pushed her off and back onto her bed. “I should go.” He rose, having a hard time looking at her. 

She nodded. “Okay,” she said meekly. Jesus, he hated that tone, knowing he caused it. But staying was now dangerous and he was already experiencing too many emotions he didn’t know how to handle. He wanted to punch something. Break it. But not around her. No, that was something she didn’t need to see. 

He could let it out with Maria, though. She liked it rough. A couple hard smacks on her ass would be nice. Maybe she’d let him choke her a bit. And just thinking about slamming his cock into her over and over. Yanking her hair and saying filthy things. That would calm him down. Take the edge off. 

Grabbing his shirt from the ground, he tossed it over his shoulder. No need to put it on now when it would just come off again soon. 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out the front door,” Stacy said, watching him. “The window would be better.” 

“Right. Okay.” He couldn’t bear to look at her face as he strode over. They weren’t really dating. They weren’t exclusive. Yet, he felt this gnawing on the inside that what he was going to do was a terrible idea and would crush Stacy. 

The window opened easily but he took his time throwing his leg over. Half way out she called back to him. “Billy! Wait!” Of course he stopped instantly and she rushed over. Her eyes were glossy again. “Could you stay the night? Please?”

“Yeah.” He came back into the room. “I can.” 

The elated look on her face was worth it all. She threw her arms around him again, face squished against him. He couldn’t stop the euphoric feeling that flooded him. He made her happy. 

It was late and therefore it was decided that going to bed would be best. She offered him her shower and he accepted. He didn’t have clean clothes but that was okay. He slept naked anyways. But, maybe, he’d at least wear his boxers tonight. 

He was laying on her bed as she took her turn in the shower, ruffling through the magazines she had laying on her bedside table. A cigarette was hanging from his lips as he skimmed articles. Almost all of them were about sex. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying reading them. These girls were just as filthy as the boys. 

His cigarette was out when she emerged from the adjoining bathroom. His face crinkled into a smile when he saw her. “Is that my shirt?”

Shyly she nodded, pulling at the hem of it. “Remember when you spilled your coke on me?” He did. The lid wasn’t on properly and when he offered it to her it popped off. The whole front of her shirt was soaked in dark, sticky liquid. He had a spare shirt in his car for this reason or that. Something for an emergency. “I never gave it back.” 

He laughed, unaware that she had kept it. “Well, princess, you do look fuckin’ hot in it. I guess you can keep it.” 

She giggled and crawled onto the bed. “Gee, thanks.” On instinct, he opened his arm for her, and she snuggled in close. “Are you reading my Cosmo?”

“I am,” he said. “There’s a lot of shit about fuckin’ in here.” 

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I bought them.” 

He adjusted so they could both comfortably read the magazine. “Looks like we have some positions to try out later. Think you’re up for it, sweetheart?”

“With you? I do.” So tenderly she kissed his cheek and he was filled again with all the emotions he was trying so hard to not deal with. 

Clearing his throat, he closed the magazine and placed it on her bedside table. “Let’s go to sleep, huh?”

She agreed and turned off the light, snuggling up next to him when she came back to bed. She was just so soft and smelled so good. He wanted nothing more than to just hold her. 

She fell asleep first. She wasn't used to being out as late as he was. He laid there for awhile, holding her. Looking at her. Her hair always reminded him of the color of a sunrise after being out all night. It was a great color on her. 

And the mark her mother left looked better. He could still see the cut against her creamy skin, but it wasn’t bleeding or red anymore. Just a faint little line that would heal without a scar. 

Fuck, those feelings were starting to come back the longer he looked at her. For a moment he thought about how easy it would be to sneak out. He could still meet Maria like he said he would. His jeans were folded in a neat pile, easy to get to. His shoes were right at the foot of the bed. He could dress and be out the window in a few moments. She’d never know he left. 

Until she woke up to a cold, empty bed. No, he couldn’t hurt her like that. She was much more important. Maria would no doubt be upset about being stood up but what could she do? Call him a jackass, a fuck, tell everyone what a terrible person he is? That’s nothing people don’t already say. 

Instead he got comfortable in her bed that definitely wasn’t made for two people. But that was fine. He’d just have to pull her close then. He closed his eyes and tried to relax but those goddamn feelings wouldn’t leave him be.