If You Know Me Irl, No Tf You Don’t

The front door clicked open at 1:47 a.m.

You’d fallen asleep on the couch waiting for her, a blanket half-draped over your legs and the TV still playing some random show on low volume. The sound of Billie kicking off her shoes made you stir.

She looked exhausted.

Hoodie pulled low over her head, shoulders slumped, that signature slouch even more pronounced than usual. Her eyes were heavy when they found you.

“Hi, baby,” she rasped, voice wrecked from hours of singing and talking in the studio.

You sat up immediately, opening your arms. “C’mere.”

Billie didn’t hesitate. She dropped her bag by the door and shuffled over, collapsing into you like all the weight of the day finally caught up with her. She buried her face in your neck, legs tangling with yours as you both sank deeper into the couch.

“You smell good,” she mumbled against your skin. “Missed you. Studio was endless today.”

You ran your fingers through her hair, gently scratching her scalp the way she liked. “I missed you too. Long session?”

“Too long. My throat hurts. My back hurts. Everything hurts.” She sighed deeply, nuzzling closer. Her arms wrapped around your waist like she was afraid you’d disappear. “Just wanna stay right here forever.”

You smiled and kissed the top of her head. “Then stay. I’ve got you.”

For a while it was quiet — just the sound of her breathing slowing down and the low hum of the TV. You rubbed slow circles on her back, working out the knots you could feel through her hoodie. Every time your nails dragged lightly over her scalp she let out a tiny, contented hum.

After a few minutes she shifted, crawling fully on top of you so her whole body weight pressed you into the cushions. Not crushing — just heavy and warm and safe.

“Can we go to bed?” she whispered. “But like… no moving. Just cuddles. Maybe some kisses if I’m not too dead.”

You laughed softly. “Whatever you want, love.”

You helped her up, keeping one arm around her as you walked to the bedroom. She stripped down to just her t-shirt and panties while you changed into one of her big shirts. The second you were under the covers she was back in your arms, face tucked into your chest, leg thrown over yours.

“I love you,” she said quietly, almost shy. “Like… stupid amounts. You make coming home the best part of the day.”

You tilted her chin up gently and kissed her — slow, soft, full of all the missing her you’d felt all day. “I love you more. Close your eyes, baby. I’ve got you tonight.”

Billie melted even further into you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rest on your bare waist, thumb stroking lazy patterns. Her breathing grew deeper, slower.

Just when you thought she’d fallen asleep, she mumbled, “Maybe in the morning we can do more than cuddles… but right now this is perfect.”

You smiled into her hair and held her tighter.

“Perfect sounds good to me.”