The night was warm, the air buzzing softly with the sound of crickets and the occasional hum of distant traffic.
We were all spread out on the terrace, drinks in hand, a little buzzed, a little relaxed, the dim glow of the patio lights making everything feel soft, easy, golden.
Finneas had taken center stage, telling a story with dramatic hand gestures, Billie rolling her eyes every few seconds like she already knew where it was going.
"I'm telling you," he said, pointing at Billie like he had been personally victimized. "She was an actual menace to work with as a teenager. Like, I still have PTSD."
Jonathan snorted, taking a sip of his drink. "Oh, this I gotta hear."
"Dude," Finneas sighed, shaking his head. "She would get so fucking pissed at me over the dumbest shit."
Billie rolled her eyes, sipping her drink. "I was just passionate."
"No, you were insufferable," Finneas shot back.
Billie laughed, throwing a piece of ice at him.
"Okay, okay, hold up," I said, grinning. "What exactly did she do?"
Finneas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, all serious now.
"Picture this," he said, dramatically. "We're in the studio. It's 2 AM. I have been producing all fucking day—my eyes are bleeding from staring at a screen."
"Bullshit," Billie muttered, but she was smiling.
"And then," Finneas continued, ignoring her, "Billie—teenage Billie—walks in and goes: 'I hate everything about this song.'"
I choked on my drink, laughing.
"Oh my God."
"And I was like, 'What do you mean? We worked on it for three days!' And she just goes, 'Yeah, I know. And it's trash.'"
Jonathan was cracking up now, shaking his head.
"To be fair," Billie interjected, grinning, "some of those songs were trash."
"Oh, don't even," Finneas groaned. "The worst part was when she would get stubborn as fuck about a note or a melody and literally not let me leave the studio until she was happy with it."
"I was right, though," Billie said smugly.
"You were insane," Finneas corrected. "Like, trapped in a soundproof box with a tiny, angry dictator insane."
The whole table burst into laughter, me included.
Billie raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of—"
She turned toward Jonathan, her eyes glinting with curiosity.
"How was Juliette as a teenager?"
I felt my stomach tighten slightly, suddenly on the spot, but Jonathan just smirked, shaking his head fondly.
"Jules?" he said, glancing at me with a soft smile. "She was the easiest kid ever. Straight-A student, never caused trouble, never came home late, never made a mess of anything."
Billie tilted her head slightly, eyes flickering between us.
"Sounds fake," she teased.
Jonathan chuckled.
"I'm serious," he said, leaning back in his chair. "She's always been this way—heart of gold, never put herself first, always making sure everyone else was okay."
I felt my face heat up, shifting slightly in my seat.
"Jonathan—" I started, but he just smiled at me, taking another sip of his drink.
"It's true," he said.
I didn't know what to say.
And then, before I could even react, I felt something under the table—
Billie's foot brushing against mine.
Soft. Subtle. Intentional.
I looked over at her, but she was just sipping her drink, pretending like she hadn't done anything.
Like she wasn't looking at me a little differently now.
Like she hadn't just made my heart slam against my ribs.
One of the guys, Chris, leaned forward, smirking as he nudged Jonathan's arm.
"Alright, but what did you do when Jules had guys over?"
Jonathan barked out a laugh, shaking his head.
"Oh, that was easy," he said, grinning like an asshole. "She never did."
Billie snorted into her drink, and the whole group started laughing.
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. "Yeah, no shit, Jonah. That's because you never let me."
"Damn right, I didn't," he said, smirking. "I had to protect your honor."
"You had to be a fucking tyrant," I corrected.
Finneas laughed, raising an eyebrow at Jonathan.
"Wait, wait, wait—so you literally never let her have guys over?"
"Not once," I said flatly.
"Dude, what the fuck?" Chris said, grinning.
Jonathan shrugged, completely unbothered.
"Listen, when you grow up with a sister who has a heart as big as Jules does, you start to realize real quick that people will take advantage of that shit."
"Or," I said, deadpan, "you just liked making my life miserable."
Jonathan grinned, unrepentant.
"That too."
"So let me get this straight," Finneas said, leaning back in his chair, "while Billie was being a little terror, ruining my life in the studio, Juliette was living a pure, nun-like existence under Jonathan's dictatorship?"
Billie snickered, turning to me with mock pity.
"Oh well," she said, grinning, "no wonder you had to let loose a little."
Her eyes flickered with something unreadable, and I knew exactly what she meant.
I felt my face heat up, and Billie just smirked into her drink, like she hadn't just made my stomach flip.
Chris shook his head, laughing.
"Well, at least now you're free."
Jonathan tilted his head, sipping his drink.
"Eh," he said casually. "She's still my little sister. If any guy wants to come near her, he still has to go through me."
Billie was smirking into her drink, completely unbothered by Jonathan's overprotective big brother speech.
"Good thing we don't have to worry about guys, then," she had said, all casual, like she hadn't just sent my entire nervous system into a meltdown.
Jonathan narrowed his eyes at her, shaking his head.
"You are such a little shit," he muttered.
Billie grinned, taking another sip of her drink. "And yet, here you are, willingly hanging out with me every day. Sounds like a you problem, big guy."
Jonathan snorted, setting his drink down.
"You know what?" he said, standing up slowly, rolling his shoulders. "I think I've had enough of your mouth for one night."
Billie barely had time to react before Jonathan lunged.
"Jonathan, don't you fucking—"
Too late.
In one smooth motion, Jonathan grabbed Billie, hoisting her straight off the ground like she weighed absolutely nothing.
Billie screamed, kicking her legs, but Jonathan had her locked in his grip.
"No—Jonah—"
"You had this coming, Eilish," Jonathan said, grinning like a maniac as he carried her toward the pool.
Jonathan didn't even flinch.
The rest of us? Absolutely losing our shit.
"Oh my God," Finneas wheezed, doubling over laughing.
"Jonathan, Don't you fucking dare—"
But he did.
He tossed her into the pool, fully clothed, no hesitation.
She hit the water with a loud splash, disappearing under the surface.
For a second, the whole terrace was silent.
Then Billie's head broke the surface, her hair a soaked mess, her eyeliner definitely ruined, and—
"You motherfucker!" she shouted.
Jonathan just stood by the edge, arms crossed, smug as hell.
"That's what you get, Eilish."
Billie wiped water from her face, glaring.
"You better fucking run."
Jonathan's eyes widened, but before he could react, Billie lunged for the edge of the pool, grabbing onto his wrist—
And yanked him in with her.
Jonathan's yell was cut off by a massive splash, and now we were all completely losing our minds.
Finneas was crying from laughter, Chris had to set his drink down before he dropped it, and I was half-wheezing, half-terrified that Billie was about to actually murder my brother.
Jonathan resurfaced, spitting out water.
"Fucking hell, Billie"
Billie laughed, completely unbothered, flicking water at his face.
"That's what you get."
And God help me, I had never found her hotter.
Jonathan and Billie stepped out of the pool, both of them dripping wet and breathless from laughing.
Jonathan ran a hand through his soaked hair, shaking out water like a complete idiot.
He glanced at Billie and grinned.
"You look like a drowned rat."
Billie didn't even hesitate—she just casually placed a hand on his chest and shoved.
Splash.
Jonathan's yell cut off mid-sentence as he went right back into the pool.
Billie just dusted off her hands like it was nothing, then turned toward me.
"Alright, I need dry clothes," she said, completely unbothered.
I was laughing so hard I had to hold onto the doorframe, watching my brother resurface, spluttering.
"What the fuck, Billie?"
"My bad," she said, grinning, "must've slipped."
Jonathan just glared at her, while the rest of the group lost their shit.
I shook my head, grinning. "Come on, Billie. Let's get you something dry before you start shivering."
She flashed Jonathan a peace sign before following me inside, still smirking like she hadn't just committed an act of violence.
We walked through the house, leaving wet footprints behind, heading straight for my room.
I stepped into the bathroom, grabbed a towel, and tossed it at her.
"Here," I said, grinning as she caught it.
She ran it through her hair, smirking.
"You're lucky you like me, Jules," she said.
She removed her wet clothes, and wrapped the towel around her while I was still in the bathroom.
Billie opened my closet, took one look inside, and froze.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she muttered, pulling back a floral sundress like it personally offended her.
I rolled my eyes, flopping onto my bed. "What now?"
Billie turned to face me, hands on her hips. "Jules, how do we dress like we live on two different planets? I swear to God, your wardrobe looks like it belongs to a Disney princess."
"It does not," I argued.
"Oh yeah?" she said, pulling out a tiny, floral tube top and holding it up like it was a disease.
"This? This is what you wear?" she asked, deadpan. "Absolutely not. I refuse."
I snorted, standing up and pushing past her to grab a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweater from a lower shelf.
"Alright, Your Majesty," I teased, tossing them at her, "will this satisfy your high standards?"
She caught them, inspecting them like they might explode, before nodding.
"This will do," she said dramatically.
And then—she dropped her towel.
Just let it fall to the floor like it was nothing.
And now Billie was standing in the middle of my room, completely fucking naked.
My brain short-circuited.
I snapped my gaze to the ceiling, the floor, anywhere that wasn't her bare fucking body.
But she definitely noticed.
Billie grinned, slow and smug, slipping on the sweatpants.
"Jules," she said, voice teasing. "After everything we've done, is it really a little late to start playing shy?"
I felt my face burn, shoving my hands into my hoodie pocket. "Shut up."
She just laughed, pulling on the sweater, now fully dressed in my clothes, her smirk never fading.
By the time Billie and I stepped back outside, the group was fully immersed in a game of beer pong.
Jonathan was mid-throw, focused as hell, while Finneas was talking mad shit from the other side of the table.
"You're gonna miss, bro."
Jonathan snorted, tossing the ball—
And completely missing the cup.
"Fuck."
Finneas cackled, pumping his fists. "I called it!"
Billie and I laughed, grabbing drinks and jumping into the game.
The rest of the night was easy, fun, familiar, a mix of stupid conversations, inside jokes, and way too much alcohol.
But eventually, as the clock crept past stupid o'clock, people started getting tired, finding places to crash around the house.
Jonathan, ever the big brother, took it upon himself to distribute sleeping arrangements.
"Alright, Finneas, you can take the guest room. Chris, you're on the couch with Nigel. Billie—" He paused, looking at her. "You can just sleep with Jules."
I stopped breathing.
Because the fact that he had suggested it so casually meant that he had absolutely no fucking clue what was happening between us.
Billie just shrugged easily, not even blinking. "Sounds good."
Jonathan nodded, completely unaware of how much chaos he had just unleashed, and kept assigning people places.
I swallowed thickly, avoiding Billie's gaze as we said our goodnights and headed toward my room.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Billie grinned, stretching her arms above her head.
"Sooo," she mused, plopping onto my bed, "this means I finally get to be in bed with you for an entire night?"
I rolled my eyes, pulling my hoodie off. "Yeah, apparently. And under Jonathan's orders, no less."
She snickered, flipping onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow.
"Damn. Who knew your brother was our biggest supporter?"
I snorted, climbing into bed. "Shut up."
Billie just grinned, tugging the blanket over her.
We settled into the silence, and instinctively, I curled into her, resting my head against her chest as she wrapped an arm around me.
It wasn't sexual.
It wasn't rushed.
It was just warm, steady, easy.
She traced soft circles on my back, her breathing deep, even.
And before I knew it, I was drifting off, tangled in her arms.