imessages
5:23 pm
bils ð«¶ð¼
bils ð«¶ð¼
don't forget that im taking you to
the beach tomorrow
no backing out
vei
oh god we're really doing this aren't we?
bils ð«¶ð¼
YEAH WE ARE
THE NEXT EVENING, they found themselves walking along a quiet stretch of beach, the only sound the steady crash of waves against the shore. the sun hung low, casting deep orange and purple across the sky, reflecting off the water like liquid fire.
valerie shoved her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, feeling the weight of the moment settle over her. "it's peaceful here," she murmured.
billie nodded, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "it's one of the only places where i feel like i can just exist, y'know? no cameras, no expectations... just me."
they walked in silence for a while before billie nudged her gently. "you've been quiet," she said softly. "not in the way you usually are."
valerie let out a shaky breath, staring down at her feet as they sank into the damp sand. "i don't know. it's just everything. some days it feels like i'm carrying all this shit and if i stop moving, even for a second, it's gonna crush me."
billie stopped walking, her brows knitting together as she turned to face valerie. "then don't carry it alone."
valerie swallowed hard, the lump in her throat growing heavier. she had spent so long pretending everything was fine, brushing off pain like it was nothing-but this was billie. she could see right through her.
so she let it spill.
"my dad left when i was ten," she started, her voice barely above a whisper. "he cheated on my mom, and after he was gone, it was like she just... stopped being my mom. she drank all the time, she was angry, and when she wasn't, she just wasn't there. i kept thinking, if i could be better, maybe she'd love me again. but it never worked."
billie didn't say anything, just listened, her expression soft but serious.
"and then, i guess i turned on myself." valerie let out a bitter laugh. "self-harm, eating problems... shit that made me feel like i had control when everything else was falling apart. and then one night, it got too much, and i-" she paused, voice cracking. "i almost ended it."
billie's breath hitched, and in an instant, her hand found valerie's, squeezing tight.
"i know what that feels like," billie whispered. "i didn't think i was gonna make it past seventeen. i used to tell myself i wouldn't. people think when you have everything, you should be happy, but that's not how it works. the pressure, the expectations... i felt like i was drowning, and no one could see. and even when they did see, they didn't understand."
valerie's heart clenched at the rawness in billie's voice. she squeezed her hand back, silent reassurance between them.
"but you're here," valerie whispered. "you made it. and you're-" she swallowed. "better, right?"
billie exhaled shakily. "not always. but yeah. i think i am." she looked up at valerie, eyes shining in the fading light. "and you are too."
valerie let out a soft, disbelieving laugh. "doesn't feel like it sometimes."
"maybe not," billie said, stepping closer. "but you are. and i see you, vei. i see all of it. the way you care, the way you try. you're still here. that's enough."
valerie's chest ached, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "you make it sound so simple."
"it's not," billie admitted. "but it's real."
the space between them felt impossibly small, the waves pulling back like they were holding their breath. billie's hand slid up valerie's arm, tracing the fabric of her hoodie before coming to rest at her jaw, her thumb brushing lightly over her cheek.
valerie exhaled, barely a whisper. "billie-"
and then billie kissed her.
it was slow, hesitant at first-like she was waiting for valerie to pull away. but valerie didn't. she melted into it, fingers curling around billie's wrist, grounding herself in the warmth of her touch. the world faded, leaving nothing but the quiet crash of the ocean and the steady thrum of her heartbeat.
when they finally pulled apart, billie stayed close, her forehead resting against valerie's. "the beach isn't so bad, huh?" she murmured, a small smile playing on her lips.
valerie laughed softly, feeling lighter than she had in years. "yeah," she admitted. "it's not."