moonlight. || billie eilish x reader

$6.09

Chase dropped you off at your job, a dinky 7-Eleven. Overcrowded shelves sat tightly packed in the small space atop of sickly yellow tiles. The lights flickered ever so often as if to remind you of their existence.

You sat behind the thick wall of bulletproof glass in front of the cash register, tucked away between the wall of cigarettes and the counter. You usually take the graveyard shift, and while your boss pays you well, it's unbelievably boring. Most of your time here is spent scrolling through your phone or picking at your nails. You had been meaning to pick up a book or something for a while now, but the thought always slips your mind.

Not many people came in, especially on weeknights like tonight. There would be the occasional suit that would come in looking for a snack or maybe a drunk girl on the hunt for a pint of ice cream, but even those encounters were few and far between.

There had to be more to life than staring at the peeling wallpaper, you thought to yourself. You drummed your fingers on the wide glossy countertop. Something moved out of the corner of your eye.

You turned your head to look out the large windows in the front of the store. Big neon signs for bars and other convenience stores were served as the only illumination for the wide, empty streets. You felt a sigh escape your lips as you went back to scrolling your phone.

"Hey."

You whipped around to face the the counter, meeting a set of heavy lidded eyes. In front of the thick sheet of bulletproof glass stood a girl with a bag of voodoo chips clutched tightly in her left hand. When did she come in? Surely the bell on the door would have rung. You needed to start getting more sleep.

The girl, now aware of your attention, slowly slid the bag of chips across the counter, quickly retracting her hand once it made its way past the glass. Your fingers rapidly ghosted along the keys of the register.

"Hey?" The girl asked.

You looked at her again. Her brows were in a tight stitch of confusion. "A lighter?" She seemed exasperated, and you could feel yourself shrinking.

"Yeah, sure." You picked up a large Bic lighter display, one of the ones that sat under the racks of cigarette boxes, and put it on the counter. "Which one?"

She paused for a moment. "Pick one out for me."

How exciting. You looked down at the lighters, each wrapped with a different design. You looked back to her again, quickly, to get a sense of her. She was dressed in dark, baggy clothes, and was watching you with a slight smile. Looking back at the lighters, you decided that you wouldn't give her a neon one. You debated giving her a Rick and Morty one, but you weren't sure if she would find it as funny as you do. You saw one, though, that would be perfect. It was a navy blue, embellished with the phases of the moon in a shiny faux gold wrapped horizontally around it. You picked it up from it's spot on the display and handed it to her through the slot in the divider glass.

The girl took the lighter in her right hand, assessing it as it sat in her palm. She looked thoroughly entranced. You rang her up for the lighter and decided that this chick was probably high out of her mind, restocking her supplies mid session.

"That'll be $6.09."

She dug in her left pant pocket, and for a moment you braced yourself for the inevitable "I don't have the money!" conversation, but it never came. The girl placed six singles, a nickel, and four pennies on the counter and, once again, slowly and methodically slid it all under the bulletproof glass. Man, did you love exact change.

You dropped the cash into the register, your hands moving of their own volition with hours and hours of experience, and really looked at the girl for the first time. She had long black hair with electric green roots and a round face. She watched you with a glint in her sunken eyes, the intensity of which taking you by surprise.

The girl pocketed the lighter in her hoodie and snatched the chips off the counter hungrily all while maintaining eye contact. The quick movement and sharp crinkle of the bag of chips made you flinch slightly. Maybe she was on something a little stronger than weed, which wouldn't be incredibly uncommon for the area, and was feeling nervous or paranoid. Then again, she may have just been one of those people who acted strangely and you were grossly overthinking everything.

"Keep the receipt."

"Okay."

Okay? Why did you say that? Are you slow?

"Have a good night." You hastily added.

She gave you a look. It wasn't a necessarily menacing or scathing look but made you uneasy all the same. Her mouth twitched once, twice, then settled on "Stay safe."

With her hands shoved in her hoodie pockets she shouldered her way out of the store, the ringing of the bell following her exit. You could see her form retreat into the inky night.