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You knew he didn’t mean to say what he said, but that didn’t excuse his actions. He crossed a line, and by the look of self hatred smothered all over his sorry face after the words left his mouth, you know he recognized how hateful and mean he sounded and he regretted it too.
“Don’t do that. Don’t pull that shit with me, Y/N. You know exactly what you’re doing, and I know what’s going through that head of yours,” Billy hissed in your ear, taunting you by getting up in your face, even laughing like a maniac as a scare tactic. Right now Billy looked like the poster boy for toxic masculinity and the green eyed monster. He puffed his chest out, making sure you feel smaller than him, and continued his accusations that went on for miles and miles.
It was quite the reach trying to punish you for touching someone else when he didn’t even have proper proof or any trust in you at all. In fact, it just sounded like insecurity bubbling to the surface that had been begging to be unleashed throughout yours and his entire relationship. The blonde backed you further into the corner of your room, wanting to put you in your place, make you feel intimidated. And you were. It was hard emotional labor you did, protecting him from others, but most of all protecting him from himself.
He’d been around the block before, cheated and been cheated on, and he thought in this critical stage of your relationship that you would’ve fled by now. That in this particular point in time it was make or break, so he chose the easy route; break. None of the unconditional love and care you showed made any sense to him, so he was on edge just looking for evidence that it was all just bullshit, that you’d betray him and then ultimately leave him like everybody else had in his life. And when he thought he finally saw the proof, you and your brother’s best friend talking close to eachother at his locker during passing period, he gave you his bratty attitude the rest of the day then backed you into the corner under your own roof not only tell you off, but to utterly disrespect you; not to mention wrongfully accuse you.
“Was he better than me? Bigger too? Mmhm, I bet he was, wasn’t he? Sweetheart,” he practically spat in your face when he didn’t care to wipe his mouth free of saliva as he continued to lecture you. You helplessly took the emotional beating he was giving as you exerted all the energy you had into not letting the tears brimming your scared eyes fall. You shook your head over and over, not finding the words to reassure him that he’s imagining things, and that this is not about you but about him.
“Not even gonna try denying it? Yeah, I fucking knew it. Nothing but a slutbag that just used me for my co—“
“ENOUGH already, you whiny fucking pig! I cannot believe what I’m hearing right now. Can you hear yourself? The way you’re talking to me right now, what you’re really saying?” You pushed his chest forward, not hard enough to wound him but not light enough to allow him to continue freely invading your space. That finally got him to shut the fuck up. “I’m the sluttiest slut, aren’t I? I sure am, because I just can’t keep my legs closed while giving my brother’s best friend the homework he missed! Insane, right?” You raised your voice then pointed your finger at him before he shoved it away from his face.
“Don’t point your fucking finger at me, look at what you’ve done!” His screams were soon replaced with whimpers as his voice grew weak, and in time faded to soft sobs that spriralled into hysterical bawling and you watched the scene unveil until the dam officially broke. He finally let go of all the anger and it got replaced with pathetic weeping. You let him crawl in your arms as you stayed standing while he sunk to his knees, wanting you to save him from himself once again. Pick up the pieces for him. You lowered down to his level and hugged him tight, hoping his tantrum was over so you could get him to finally talk to you and then a specialist. After ten to fifteen minutes, he rubbed his eyes like a child waking up from a nap, utterly exhausted and wiped out from thinking so much and feeling so scared of being replaced by another boy in your life. The tears eventually dried down his face, the mucus also drying from his nostrils, making him sniffle a handful of times. When he looked at you, he saw your own tears trailing down your shiny cheeks and he reached up to wipe them away before whispering, sounding completely broken;
“I’m still so angry with you.”
—
After the weekend went by, you both quietly agreed that you were due for a short break.
However, the both of you neglected to communicate an important part and mention just how long the break should go on for, and he clearly thought he could step all over you then come crawling back the next Monday. You had been writing your analysis on one of Shakespeare’s stories for English with your stereo playing softly to keep your thoughts quiet. That’s when a rock nicked your window, and made you withdraw yourself from your assignment before investigating what it could be. And then another one flew, hitting the closed and covered window and by now you knew this was no accident.
You scrambled to quickly turn off your stereo and lower your lights down then hesitated when locking your window. It’s not that you were scared of him, but maybe more terrified of the daunting talk you’ll have to have with Billy in the near future that you just weren’t ready for emotionally. Having your boyfriend you strongly committed to spit at you and call you a whore in your face was hard to even think of alone without feeling nauseous and wanting to cry all over again. Now he was outside trying to come up to your room.
“Y/N!”
You layed low and shut your eyes, putting a hand over your mouth to stay silent, hearing him struggle to climb up before knocking on your window several times, then just giving up and attempting to open it.
“Babe, please. I want to talk. I’m ready now, and I’m sorry. I can wait till you’re ready, too. No pressure. I said some horrible shit, but I’ll — I’ll see someone, then I’ll m-make it up to you, and we can kiss and make up like old times, yeah?”
A minute later and no response on your end, Billy knew it was a no go. It was a long shot to even think she would open her window anyway. Soon he just said his goodbyes, ending it with a soft “I love you” and you heard him jump back down and start his car below and drive off. Finally you felt like you were able to breathe, and threw yourself back into your bed while covering yourself head to toe in your comforter and turned up your music louder than it was before he came, blocking out everything as sobs wrecked through you.
—
Billy was getting shakey and worried without you, drinking way more than what he’s used to, and it’s always whenever he looked in the mirror at himself or saw something that remotely related to an inside joke he had with you, or if it reminded him of your scent, your hair, or even your body. He had done enough self deprecating sober, now he just pitied himself as he drank.
You never shut him out as long as this, and he knew it was bad this time, really fucking bad. The teenager was aware that he deserved all that’s coming to him, but he just couldn’t believe you were really gonna do it. You weren’t going to speak to him, or acknowledge anything. You were going to lock your window whenever he tried to come over, and head to school early every morning so he couldn’t drive you anymore, even take great lengths to hide from him at lunch, which was usually a time you two spent together making out in his car or just talking.
Billy didn’t bother hiding how much of a mess he was at school or anywhere else without you by his side, showing up late to class with bags under his bloodshot eyes. He knew there was an opportunity hidden in this breakup, he could better himself instead, try harder to be a better more understanding and forgiving person. He could grow, and eventually maybe even win you back. Even though he knew he’d be pushing his luck pretty far.
But he just wasn’t capable of handling any of it on his own.
Knowing that this was probably the end of Billy and Y/N, he thought of one last resort at taking to you before he said goodbye.
—
You opened your curtains to reveal yourself this time when he knocked on your room window, but kept it shut as he looked at you through the glass, seeing your face for the first time in days. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at you while you just couldn’t look at him. He waved sheepishly before blowing his hot breath on your window, then writing “hi” with his fingertip on the fog he had made. You shook your head, then wondered what he wanted this time.
“If I let you in, what happens? Are you gonna cry and yell at me again?” You ask, your voice not hiding that you were close to tears and twiddling your fingers to try keeping busy. Billy grimaced at your words, even though they were muffled through the window he still clearly made out what you asked and it wasn’t looking good, he knew that. Couldn’t swoop you off your feet this time, or make a mess and have you clean it up because he was incapable and selfish.
“Checking up on you,” Billy murmurs, scrubbing his eyes in hopes it will keep them from watering. “I need to know that you’re taking care of yourself. I know how you get when you’re upset,” he finishes lamely, and although it was true he also just missed your voice, hearing it comforted him in a way. Made him feel like it was a shield from all harm. He held his breath as he carefully observed your every move, then almost gasped aloud when you unlocked your window and shoved the sliding glass open, allowing him in. It didn’t take him longer than a beat to come in, nearly too big to fit through the damn thing and knocking over things that were in the way, cursing and rapidly picking up what had fallen from his clumsiness. Wiping his sweaty palms at his jeans, he cautiously looks to you before lowering to your level where you sit.
“Have you been eating, baby? Drinking enough water?” He gently asks, seeing you look significantly different. More tired and exasperated than he’d ever seen you, and it was because of him.
All because of what he’d done.
Billy chokes another apology before grabbing your head with both hands and embracing you in his chest, helpless in keeping his soft sobs in. You’re no better, clutching at his jacket for life. You had battled yourself for the past week, not knowing if it would be healthy for you to go back to him and let him get away with treating you the way he did, saying the things that he said. Billy hadn’t ever thought about the affect he had on people, that words hurt even if they’re said in anger and not necessarily true in the long run.
“Your folks home right now? I kinda didn’t look for any cars in the driveway. I just climbed up here when I saw your light,” he mumbled as his lips layed kisses at the top of your head before smoothing our your hair and brushing our little tangles with his fingers.
“Dinner. They’re at dinner,” you answer, not letting him go from your grasp even if he wanted to. You’ve missed loving him and despised hating him.
“Wanna go eat? You also need to get hydrated, babe. I’m really sorry. I — I know I did this to you,” he gets the hair away from your face before caressing you’re cheek.
“I’m real sensitive, Billy. I have feelings and you — you scared me. Scared the shit out of me and just — you’re such a bully, and now you want to feed me, make it all better again? Erase it?” You let out, watching him crumble and look down in shame.
“‘M not, I know I can’t take it back. I just wanna take it fucking back,” he scrubs his face and drags his nails down his cheeks, making his skin turn a light pink. You pulled his hands away from himself to stop him, then held both his hands in yours.
“How is Max doing?”
“Huh?” Billy looked up.
“Max. I asked how your sister is doing,” you repeat for him.
“Oh, um, she like won this skateboarding contest thing. Got a free board for a prize, so she’s pretty happy, the little twerp.”
“Yeah?” You smile. “Good for her.”
“Mmhm,” he hums, stroking your hand in his. “I won’t ask you to forgive and forget, but just— I want to stay in touch, please? Knowing that you’re doing okay and all that. Sweet Jesus, did you even drink any water like I asked?” You snorted at the last part of his speech before he gets up to snatch a paper cup from the restroom and fills it to the brim, handing it to you and demanding you gulp it down while he watches. You roll your eyes but do it anyway, and you can’t hide that it tastes good given you hadn’t been taking good care of yourself lately. Billy stands and fills it for you three more times without being prompted, watching you drink it all.
“Happy?” You ask. He gives you a grin and fills up the same cup you used and drinks it himself while eyeing you playfully.
“Never happier, actually.”