#also i might write more about billy to taylor swift songs soooo

[harringtonspolaroids]

𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 | 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞

a/n: its 1 am and something made me write this idk

word count: 829

warnings: sight cussing, mentions of sex and drinking, horrible midnight writing

based on: Delicate - Taylor swift

“And how do I know you don’t just want me for a good time?”

“Maybe I do. Is that so wrong?”

“How many other girls have you used that on?”

“Just you.”

You rolled your eyes at what you felt was a lie, just something to make you feel better. “I’ll think about it. But first, go get me a drink.”

You looked at Billy across the room, the star of all the attention. You didn’t want to be at this stupid party. You wanted to be home, away from all the people who you knew didn’t care about you, and attacked you behind your back. Yet here you were. This was your lame attempt to bring your reputation back up again. 

The dark blue light’s Tina had hung around the room made Billy look more like an angel every time your gaze met his. You had a complicated relationship with him. Maybe you were friends, maybe you weren’t, but you did have benefits. And though you had tried to avoid your feelings for him, you knew you liked him. What the two of you had felt… fragile, like it would break into pieces, never to be rebuilt, if you ever truly shared what you thought of him. 

You were in it only for the fun of him at first, but the two of you grew closer. Billy noticed you staring at you, and he sauntered up to where you were sitting on the counter. 

“Meet me in my car.”

You said nothing and nodded.

That night you laid awake in bed, thinking of him. You thought of all the times you spent together, what you had been through. Everything reminded you of him. You could smell his cheap cigarettes and cologne lingering in the air of your room, feel the touch of his hands running through your hair, and hear the creaks of the stairs that reminded you of when he had carried you up to your room, that night you had drank just a little too much. You wanted to, needed to tell him how you felt. You shuffled underneath the sheets, moving, trying to find a comfortable enough position to fall asleep in. You saw the glow of your phone in the dark, the moon’s light reflecting off the plastic handle. You wondered what Billy was doing. Was he thinking of you? Was he with some other girl? Did he even feel the same way about you? The questions ran rampant through your mind. 

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“Billy,” you whispered, your voice barely making any noise.

Billy laid you down gently on your bed, careful to not hurt you. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Stay.” Your hand reached for his and you held it, looking into his eyes. You knew he would never let any other girl do this. You felt like you were practically his girlfriend by now. So why didn’t he just say it? Why didn’t he give you an inkling of hope that you could be something more. He looked at you with love, like you were together, yet he refused to say anything. ”Don’t go.”

“I’m sorry.”

His soft touch left yours and your eyes threatened to spill tears. You shouldn’t have drank that much. 

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The sound of pebbles hitting your window woke you up. You looked at the clock. It was 2 am. You rushed over to the window, knowing exactly who would be there. 

“Billy.”

Billy climbed into your room, careful to not trip over anything.

“You having problems again?”

“Yeah.”

“C’mon.”

Billy followed you into your bed, making sure there was ample space between you. You were dying to tell him everything. You could see his silhouette breathing softly, his head resting on the pillow. You knew he wasn’t asleep, he never fell asleep that quickly. It was now or never.

“Billy.”

“What?” Billy rolled over to his side, so he could face you. 

You felt your throat get dry, a wave of nausea flooding over you. “I need to tell you something.”

“What’s going on?” Billy sat up and you placed your hand on his bicep, trying to calm yourself now. 

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

“I could never get mad at you.”

You moved your hand up to his face, holding him in your hand and you kissed him. It was sweet and gentle, something the two of you rarely were. “I like you,” you murmured, looking down to avoid his eyes.

“Look at me.”

“B-”

“Look. At. Me.”

You looked into his eyes, it felt as if he were reading your mind. “I like you too.”

You let out a nervous laugh of relief, “So you don’t hate me?”

“How could I ever hate you?”

“I love you,” you blurted out, not even sure what sparked the idea in your mind. 

“I know. I love you too.” Billy smiled and rested his forehead against yours, enjoying the delicate moment of peace between the two of you. 

You really did love him.