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tezzzzzzzz · 18 days ago

Text

wow. just wow.

♱ IN THEIR SECOND-HAND SMOKE

warnings. angst, smoking and drinking (mentioned not glamorized), secondhand smoke exposure, language.

synopsis. you tag along to what's supposed to be a calm movie night with a group of mutual friends—including billie, who's laughing and having a good time. it gets overwhelming quickly, and billie's the first to notice your discomfort.

words. 2.7k

letters. projecting once again, don't we love that 🙂‍↕️ anyway, blowing smoke in someone's face is never okay!! especially if they're clean and have been for a while.

you don't know how billie convinced you to come out tonight.

well... that's actually a lie.

you know exactly how.

"c'mon," she'd said, leaning against her car like she was posing for the cover of some magazine. "you're not gonna stay home and sulk in bed, right? get in or i might just have to kidnap you."

you tried to protest. tried. but she looked too good in your hoodie with her silver hair falling over her shoulders, and you've always been weak for the way she grins like she knows you're gonna say yes.

so you did.

now you're riding shotgun in her car, windows cracked just enough to let in the breeze, music low but heavy in the speakers—something lazy with a loud bass, something with a beat that matches the rhythm of billie's fingers tapping on the steering wheel.

she's got one hand on the steering wheel, the other draped out of the open window, rings flashing each time she passes by a streetlight. her head moves a little with the music, and every now and then she sings a line under her breath, off-key on purpose just to make you laugh.

"you're quiet," she observes. "nervous?"

"no," you lie.

billie chuckles. "you're the worst liar ever, baby."

you shrug, biting back a nervous smile. "just... haven't hung out with all of them at once before."

"they're cool," she says, making a left turn with one hand like it's second nature. "loud. very carefree. but cool. calm."

nodding, you turn your head to stare out the window, watching as houses and gas stations blur by. she lets the silence sit for a second, then turns the volume down a little more.

"you don't have to stay if you're not feelin' it," she murmurs gently. "we can leave whenever."

you glance over at her, stunned a bit by the way the purple streetlights illuminates her eyes. "yeah?"

"yeah," she repeats, eyes still on the road. "i got you."

you don't realize how much those three little words mean until they leave her mouth. i got you. and you believe her, trust her with everything she says.

she pulls up outside the house not long after. lights glowing warm through the front windows, someone's voice already echoing faintly from inside. the porch is lit up dimly, shoes scattered on the steps, a broken speaker sitting on a rocking chair by the door.

billie grabs her keys, glancing at you. "you ready?"

you nod.

she leads the way in, easy and confident, and instantly blends in with everyone like she's done this a hundred times—which she probably has. she daps someone up, hugs another, tosses a playful insult over her shoulder to someone else, and then circles her way back to you.

"you good?" she asks, quieter now, fingers brushing yours.

you smile. "yeah."

and you mean it.

it's not bad, honestly. someone puts on a movie, half the group argues about what candy's the best, jay starts a dumb game of "would you rather" that derails into something stupid and funny. you settle into the couch beside billie, your knees brushing each other, and for the first time in a while, it feels like you can actually breathe.

she's laughing, cracking jokes, poking fun at people in that playful way she does where no one ever really gets mad. you even join in once or twice.

it's cool.

until it's not.

the room's dim now, lit mostly by the glow of the tv playing another movie. it smells like popcorn, cheap body spray, and the strong, sharp twist of smoke that clings to your clothes before you even realize it.

you're on the edge of the couch, legs tucked underneath you, trying to focus on the movie nobody's watching. or maybe the snacks nobody's touched. or literally anything besides how out of place you feel now.

billie shifted onto the floor just in front of you a few minutes ago, back against the foot of the loveseat a few feet away, legs stretched out, hands holding a water bottle unlike everyone else. her laugh cuts through the dialogue on screen—warm and real, like she's still genuinely having fun.

"yo, you ever seen someone trip over air before?" jordan laughs, nudging billie with his foot.

"dude, you fuckin' did that last week," she grins, punching his leg. "you can't say anything after that."

everyone bursts out laughing. you try to join in, try to even crack a smile, but it doesn't quite land in your chest in the way it does for all of them.

mya takes a hit from her spot near the front door, inhaling. then exhaling—but she looks away like she doesn't want it to get in anyone's face even though she's across the room. you hug your knees to your chest, hiding your chin and mouth and trying to focus on the movie again.

you're not judging. you get it. they're doing what they want because they can—because they're not kids anymore, and you certainly aren't one either. but it's still weird—watching someone light up, watching smoke curl from between their fingers while everyone acts like it's just background noise. the room feels way smaller now. tighter. like your lungs are already pulling away.

jay laughs. some girl—who you don't the name of—passes a drink, and you're pretty sure it's not non-alcoholic.

you press your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying to ground yourself. it's not the smoking, not really. you're used to being around people who do stuff like this. what's getting to you is something deeper, something quieter—how easy it is for everyone else. how natural they all seem. how loud you feel inside even though you haven't said a word in fifteen minutes.

you hardly notice when ethan—the guy beside mya—takes a drag, inhaling easily. you notice, you just don't say anything. just shift a little.

it's fine. you're okay.

until billie's mid-laugh, tossing popcorn into mya's mouth across the room, and jordan—the guy sitting too close—leans in with a lazy smile and exhales a thick stream of smoke right across your face.

you freeze.

he didn't mean to. or, at least, you don't think he did.

your eyes burn. not bad. just enough.

but it's not about that.

it's the way it feels. uninvited. like you're not even there. like you're suddenly not part of the inside joke anymore. like the room shrank and your voice disappeared somewhere under the laughs of your friends and the noise of it all.

your hand twitches around your legs. you keep your expression neutral, trained. you look away.

and that's when billie goes quiet.

you don't even realize she's looking at you until the laughter dies down in her throat. she turns her head, observing you, eyebrows knitting together just slightly. the way her body shifts, the way she sits up straighter—it's immediate.

she saw it.

she practically felt it.

"yo, hey," she says. not loud. not angry. but the energy in the room changes in the room instantly.

"was that supposed to be funny?" billie asks, sharp but calm as she stands up.

jordan blinks, brows furrowing. "what?"

"blowing that in her face," she clarifies. "was that a joke?"

he holds his hands up, defensive now. there's a faint smirk on his face, like he thinks it's funny. "it wasn't like that, billie. chill out."

billie doesn't respond right away. just shakes her head and looks at him like she's trying to figure out if he's really worth it. then she turns back to you.

the room goes silent after that, actors on tv talking lowly in the back as everybody just stands there frozen—tense. you shift on the couch, a bit surprised at how quickly she noticed—how fast her mood changed. you're not used to people stepping in like that.

her eyes stay trained on you as she walks over, leaning close and speaking quieter. just for you. "wanna go?"

you nod. "yeah. okay."

billie doesn't say anything else, just nods. she grabs your hand gently, helps you up, and leads you out of the house—no goodbyes, no explanation, not even a last glance. like just looking at jordan would set her off.

outside, the air hits different. it smells like wet pavement and fresh air. not the stuffy smoke inside.

without a word, billie pulls her hoodie over her head and tosses it at you, eyes soft.

once you're both in the car, you just sit there for a few moments. silent. letting the whole thing process in both of your brains. then billie turns to you, sticking her key in the ignition and twisting it—the car roaring to life.

"you looked like you couldn't breathe," she murmurs, eyes on you the whole time. after a moment, she adds, "for a while."

you exhale, finally.

"i couldn't," you say, trying to laugh it off. it doesn't work.

she nods once. "then let's not go back."

the engine hums beneath you, and for a second neither of you moves. then she glances at the dashboard clock flashing the numbers 11:27 and breathes in through her nose like she's grounding herself.

"...we could get slurpees if you want to," she asks suddenly. "or we could just... y'know, drive around for a bit. but seven eleven's open still open."

there's a hitch in her voice. something softer. more unsure than usual. like she's still a little rattled, like she's mad at herself for not noticing sooner.

"yeah," you mutter. "that sounds good."

"cool," she mumbles, shifting the car into gear. "coolcoolcool."

she keeps one hand on the wheel, the other spinning the rings on her fingers. you reach over after a moment, linking your pinky with hers, and her shoulders drop. just a little.

the drive's quiet, but it's not the awkward kind. it's soft. safe. her music plays low again—something more calm now, something like frank ocean or amy winehouse—and the world outside blurs into neon signs and stoplights and the distant sound of sirens slicing through all the other noise of los angeles.

by the time you roll into the 7/11 parking lot, she's finally started to breathe normally again. the tightness in her jaw loosened, shoulders more relaxed, and she's looking over at you with the faintest smirk on her lips.

"race you inside," she says, like she's trying to restart the night. make it better.

"you're gonna lose," you shoot back, already unbuckling.

billie bolts out of the car before you finish your sentence, her jordans stomping against the pavement. you chase her in, both of you laughing now, for real this time.

inside, it's too bright and too cold, and everything smells like cleaning supplies and hot dogs that have been spinning for six hours too long. but it doesn't matter. you stand shoulder-to-shoulder at the slurpee machine, half-fighting over who gets the cherry flavor first.

"mine's gonna be prettier," she says in that baby voice that always has you laughing, tongue out, layering blue raspberry and coke in uneven layers.

"you mean uglier?"

billie frowns in faux sadness. "you're mean."

she pays for the slurpees—you try to argue, but she ignores you completely—and then you both head back outside, finding a spot on the curb our front, backs pressed against the concrete wall of the building.

the night hums around you. headlights pass in waves. someone blasts music at a red light, windows down, bass shaking the pavement.

billie slurps loudly. obnoxiously.

you elbow her.

she grins, glancing at you. "feelin' better yet?"

"kind of," you shrug. and then, after a pause: "i feel a little stupid, though. childish."

her head turns, full attention on you now. "what?"

"i don't know," you murmur. "like, it wasn't that big of a deal. i should be normal about it, like... like everyone else is. they just laugh and move on, act like it's funny. and i just... i don't know, i just shut down."

you sip your drink, eyes fixed on the traffic. "makes me feel like i'm missing out or something. or, like... something's wrong with me."

you don't even hear her move, but suddenly her hand is on your knee, the other slung over your shoulder and pulling you close.

"hey," she says. quiet. firm. "there's nothing wrong with you."

you glance at her. she looks serious. kind, but still firm.

"that wasn't normal. it wasn't right," she says. "what he did. none of that shit was funny. none of it was okay. and if it made you uncomfortable, then that's real. that matters. don't let anyone make you feel weird for having boundaries."

you nod slowly, eyes stinging—not from the smoke this time, but from something warmer. something softer.

billie squeezes your knee.

"i should've said something sooner," she adds, looking down. guilt in her tone. "i saw it on your face and i just waited. "

"you didn't wait that long," you mumble.

"long enough."

"you got me out."

she softens again, eyes meeting yours. "always."

you sit there for a while longer, finishing your slurpees, letting the city move around you, time passing slowly. the world keeps going, but for now—it's just you and her.

then billie nudges your knee with hers. "ready?"

you nod, and she stands, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn that makes you do the same. she watches you for a second, then tosses her empty cup into a nearby garbage before you both head back to the car.

once you're inside, she scrolls through music on her phone for a second, then taps something. the first few notes of the song you both love equally fill the space between you two—some by steve lacy.

billie hums along at first, fingers drumming lightly on the leather steering wheel. the streets are quiet now, less noise, more calm. then, as the verse flows in, she starts to sing—barely above a whisper. just soft enough for you it to reach your ears.

not loud. not dramatic. just smooth and low. like she's trying to soothe herself, and ends up soothing you in the process.

you don't speak. don't tease. don't do anything except listen.

her voice fills the space between you, warm and steady, and it's like all the leftover tension building in your chest through the night starts to fade, unraveling. bit by bit. like she's carrying it for you, even without realizing it.

your head tips toward the window. eyelids flutter shut.

by the time she pulls into the driveway, you're already halfway gone.

she glances over, putting the car into park and killing the engine before talking. "you okay?" her voice is barely louder than her singing.

you nod, slow and tired. "mhm. thanks."

she locks the car behind you as you both head up the porch steps. she doesn't say much—doesn't have to. she just stays close, her fingers brushing yours every few steps.

the house is dim inside. quiet. comfortable.

you toe off your shoes and just stand there for a moment. your body's heavy, the emotional weight of the night finally catching up.

billie watches you, then opens her arms without a word.

and you step right into them.

no jokes. no sarcasm. just the warmth of her hoodie against your cheek and her arms wrapping around your waist, holding you together.

"bed?" she murmurs. you shake your head, pulling away from her reluctantly to drag her over to the couch.

you both collapse onto it, limbs tangled up, your body draping over hers like you're made to fit there. she welcomes you. runs a steady hand through your hair, fingers scratching your scalp softly.

the jingle of a collar catches your attention, head rising a little from billie's neck.

shark comes first, big paws tapping on the floor before he hops up and settles into the crook of your knees. brutus follows a few steps behind, letting out a dramatic huff, curling up at your feet, his big head pressed against billie's ankle.

you shift slightly, eyes already closed. "thank you," you hum.

billie leans down, presses a kiss to your temple. "'course."

there's no more words said after that.

just the gentle sounds of her breathing under you, the soft beating of her heart, the warmth of her dogs curled close, and the quiet hum of the world finally calming down.

you're comfortable.

finally.

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @love4madii @livvydunneness @partyf4vor @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @bilsova @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @kittymarrow @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @eilishssiennaa @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize @canthelpit0 @hailwiggly @karaaeilish @bilswifee @drunkinyourbenz @aka-persephone @bitchesbrokenpromises @jayjaywetforbils @slvt4subchratt @cantlandonmyfeet

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