this isn’t about me 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲. it hasn’t been about me for a 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 time. it’s about what you’ve 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲.
⠀⠀ ✗ — an independent portrayal of becca butcher. dark & mature content & themes.
⠀⠀
@FcknAveYer her breathing.
ʺJesus...ʺ she murmured hoarsely, still caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness; unaware that only moments earlier, the bed had been 𝗳𝗹𝗼𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 several inches above the ground.
@FcknAveYer though it had never existed at all.
Becca blinked rapidly, disoriented, her gaze darting around the room before finally landing on Billy. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady <
her off.
“I can see it, Billy. Whatever you’re doing... whatever you’re telling yourself you can handle; it’s not working the way you think it is. You don't have to prove anything to me, alright?”
Becca watched him for a long moment after he spoke, and the frustration she might have felt at his refusal to admit anything was quickly swallowed by something softer and far more silly.
He looked like he was hanging on by sheer force of will alone, and <
— helping make things any easier.
“Can’t exactly 𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅 to get much rest… ‘Specially wit’ everythin’ that’s been goin’ on…” As far as he was concerned, it was the truth in every sense of the word.
“What '𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 me ‘air?”
the word softening as she said it, like she was trying not to push him too hard. “More than usual. That’s all I was gonna say.”
She took a slow breath, grounding herself before speaking again, her voice quieter now but firmer in a way that left less room for him to brush <