A Billie Eilish Fanfic - Forced 2 - Insane.

The Letter. Cleo's POV.

I couldn't get any words out. I was choking on tears and I felt like I was losing my mind. I had called my therapist demanding an emergency session, and thankfully he agreed to meet with me last minute at his home office. And here I was...wasting his time.

"I fucked up. She will never want me again," I explained in between tears.

"You don't know what Billie wants, Billie is her own person and makes her own decisions. What you know is that you are also your own person and have survived without her before. You were fine without her," my therapist said reassuringly.

"Was I?" I heard myself respond.

I wasn't.

I dismissed myself from this emergency session and walked home. Walking helped me clear my mind, but it wasn't working as well as usual lately....there was more to clear nowadays.

I got home, poured myself a glass of red wine and sat on the couch, unfolding the letter Billie had thrown at me.

Dear Cleo-

I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. That's the first thing I wanted to say to you. I have fucked up so many times and you've stayed the same loyal and loving person. I don't fucking deserve you. I never did deserve you. I had to take you for you to be mine. I had to force you into loving me and that was so wrong...but now we love each other don't we baby? I know it's a fucked up kind of love and I have so many things to work on. I'm going to therapy, I'm working on my anger problems. I really am going to change for you. If you stay with me we can make this work, five years is not that long. I've never wanted anything like this before. I wish you could pull me out of this place somehow so I could be with you earlier, I would go to an outpatient therapy, I wouldn't ever hurt you again. I hate knowing you're afraid of me. All I have ever wanted was to protect you, as backwards as that seems. I love you, C. I always will.

-Billie

My teardrop fell on the letter, smudging the word earlier. I moved the letter away and laid my head down on the armrest of the couch, sobbing. She wishes I could get her out of there, or at least she did.

Maybe I should.