Cheaters = Losers

My vision swam and without warning I was back at Josh's, in our room, staring at his naked torso above that other girl, them snogging, sucking at each other's faces as if they held some key to life, and I could hear his voice, low and husky as it was for only me, whispering my "I love you"'s to her. My chest physically ached and I vaguely noticed I was heaving and sobbing.

I tried to stop it, but the more I tried to control my hysteria the more out of control it became until I was trapped back in that dark tunnel with the metal bands around my chest, pushing all the air away. No. I promised myself I'd never go back there, but the more I fought to get away, the more the bands squeezed the air from me, the more the alarm bells shrieked in my head, the heavier the darkness pressed in on me, trapping me like an animal. No. no no no. NO.

"Hey!" A voice broke through, but it was faint. "Hey!" They were shouting. I felt a hand on my shoulder, cold and clammy. I went to whip around, but I couldn't move. I wanted to tell the skeletal figure that I knew would greet me to go away, that I was not going to pass out today, but I couldn't. I didn't want to see him again. I promised that I wouldn't. Josh appeared instead, but he looked different. Scary. The bands got even tighter. I couldn't breathe at all. Then he changed. He grew black hair, his eyes turned green and worried and it was Billie Joe staring at me. I wanted to tell him to go away too, but then I realised that I was no longer in the dark corridor. I didn't know where I was. My head was spinning. All I could hear was my pulse thundering in my ears. My chest was spasming as I heaved, but no air made it in, even as I gulped. My vision was starting to blur and black was seeking back into the corners. I tried to focus on Billie instead. The black spots were starting to blur him out. Panic was overwhelming. Hands, warm, landed on my shoulders, forcing me to slow down. Forcing the motions. My breathing followed to match, following the path his hands forged.

Oxygen rushed back into my system and the bands fell away. My vision widened out and I could see my surroundings again. My muscles ached from the sudden and prolonged tension. Billie was staring at me, sat quietly but maintaining contact. He waited for me to talk. He'd guided me to the bed at some point and sat me down.
"I am so sorry," I began, but he shook his head.
"It's fine. You've had a rough day,"
"Yeah, but I didn't mean to put you through that," He looked at me like I'd grown two heads,
"Put me through it? You're then one who just had a fucking panic attack and you're apologising to me?" I shrank away, but he pulled me into a hug. "Never be sorry, you can't help those things. Here," He had a chocolate bar. I took it without question and bit off a massive chunk. He grinned at me and I gave him a relieved smile back,
"How did you know-"
"Y'know, I have anxiety," He explained with a bashful shrug, "Trust me when I say I know how exhausted you feel after dealing with one of those bastards, what you just saw was nothing," I sent him a weak smile.
"Take a shower - my bathroom's through there - honestly, take as long as you need. I promise you'll feel better." I managed a small smile at him and took another mouthful of chocolate. I screwed my eyes tight and roughly wiped at the wetness. I hated crying. I felt so weak and pathetic.

"Please don't cry," He murmured, wiping at a stray tear that was sliding down my cheek. "You're too beautiful to cry," for some reason this made more tears fall. It was all too much. Why was he being so nice to me? Was it because I was vulnerable and he wanted some? He said it wasn't. Josh said it wasn't. Josh was clearly bored of me. I should not have gone with Billie. He clearly just wanted sex and I just broke up with Josh. I am not like that. I am not a slut. He cupped my face in his hands and pulled me towards him, kissing me so delicately it was like he was worried that I'd break. I kissed back, obviously, with a needy desperation. I am not a slut. I was asking Billie to make me forget. To make it feel better. Suddenly, I was the driving force of this kiss, my hands knotted in his hair, tugging gently and pushing myself into him, begging for more contact. His hands moved to my hips and I could feel his tongue tracing my bottom lip so I opened my mouth for him. We tumbled back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, lips never separating as we explored each other in a new way. I managed to scramble on top of him so I was straddling his narrow waist. My hands pushing under his shirt and riding it up, asking to take it off, which he did. His hands ran up and down my torso as I worked my way along his arms kissing the tattoos that snaked their way up his skin. My tongue traced along his collarbone, eliciting a guttural growl from him and as I made my way south he got louder, as did I when his hands found my head and tangled themselves in my hair. Before we knew what we were doing my fingers were feeling for the clasp on his belt. I am not a slut, but I was not thinking straight.

Billie sat up and pushed me away. His face was flushed, eyes wide and a much darker colour and his hair was even messier. He swallowed and I watched his Adam's apple bob hungrily.
"Lily,"
"What?" I murmured, going for his neck.
"Stop it," his voice was strained, like he was forcing the words out against his will.
"No," he pushed me away and made me sit.
"You don't want this," I didn't care if he was right.
"I want to forget." I lunged for him again, but he pinned me down with ease, straddling atop of me this time.
"I know you do, but you already said you didn't want to do this and it will only make it worse in the morning." I scowled at him, childish I know, but I've never been one for accepting when I'm wrong.
"How about, y'know, that shower?"
"Will you come with me?" I tried with a cheeky smirk. His eyes seemed to pop out of his skull before he noticed my shit eating grin, to which he rolled his eyes, but was smiling anyway.

"No. How much did you drink?" I shrugged, but we both knew it wasn't the alcohol. It was the Adrenalin rush from the aftermath of the attack. it makes you reckless, desperate to forget it happened. To be taken somewhere, anywhere better.

Billie was right, the shower was really good. The water was hot and it instantly made me relax. The Adrenalin wore off and I felt like I wanted to die. I must have groaned louder than I thought because I could hear his laughter. Did I seriously just come on to Billie Joe Armstrong that strongly? Well, there was nothing I could do about it, so I decided to blame my deadly cocktail of alcohol, Adrenalin and heartbreak.

Washing felt like I was finally cleansing myself of Josh's chapter, and my previous rebound behavior, ready to start my next one, in which I promised I'd behave. I sang loudly and badly, because that's what I did in showers and to be honest, who doesn't? I was mildly shocked, however, when someone joined in my awesome Platypus solo - including guitar sound effects. I guess that's what you get when you sing songs with the guy who wrote them in the next room. I changed into my pyjamas - shorts and a loose crop top, I would've picked something a bit more covering but I thought I'd be sleeping out in my festival tent in the California heat, not on my idol's bus. I stepped out of the bathroom.

Billie was stretched out on the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers with his nose in a book. His eyes trailed me up and down over the top of his glasses. His shoulders and arms were full of brightly coloured images that I was itching to get a closer look at. His chest was small and he was narrow, but somehow he was perfect, even though it was flat and undefined. The elastic of his boxers was slung low on his hips, a thin trickle of black hair, barely visible trailed from his belly button down to the elastic seam and beyond. He let out a low whistle, snapping me back to attention as the glasses and the novel were returned to the bedside table. Billie in glasses was as nice as Billie's body, which was to say, very nice. They framed his face, keeping his edgy dangerous aura, but also giving him a slightly geeky offset as well as making his stunning eyes slightly even larger and more intense. The room felt even thicker than earlier, I could almost taste the electricity crackling between the two of us. I felt a rush of heat spread through my cheeks as I realised that he'd been looking at me the way I was looking at him.

"Nice singing," he smirked, voice velvety and seductive in his Californian way.
"You're just jealous because I sang it better than you did." Well done. Anything that was there fast evaporated. He smirked but showed me his palms, surrender.
"Of course," but he shook his head mouthing no. I threw a book at him. It was the first thing I could grab,
"Dickhead."
"Say that again,"
"Why? Dickhead,"
"I like the way it sounds."
"That's weird,"
"You're English, sexy accent, y'know?"
"Thanks, I guess." I grabbed my pillow from my bag - to which Billie asked if I'd packed the kitchen sink, too - and headed to the door. He bolted upright, looking stricken and vaguely panicked and somehow still very hot.

"Nonono! Wait! Where are you going?" I blinked at him.
"I was gonna sleep on the settee or something...?" He stood up in silence, the most adorable little frown on his features and stole over to me.
"What are you- Billie!" I shrieked as he picked me up and sprinted back to his bed, before I could protest, dumping me before landing on top of me, caging me in. The dominating effect was sort of ruined by our laughter.

"Billie! Billie! Oooo Billie!" Tré's voice mocked in a high pitched voice, I dissolved into giggles and by the sound of it so did Tré and Mike in the other room. Billie was scowling, but I could see the playful glint in his eyes,
"Tré shut the fuck up!" He yelled. I heard Tré's giggles turn into out and out laughter and he screeched back, "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I could hear him running around.
"Oh my god, he's mad," Billie nodded above me, before rolling onto his side, arms snaking around my waist and holding me fast in case I was planning on getting away.
"Now, where were we? Oh yeah, I was saying why you don't want to sleep out there. Did I mention you'd be at the mercy of Tré all night?" His breath was hot on my ear and his lips, when they pressed against the sensitive skin there were even hotter, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. "No, you're staying right here with me," his voice was lower then, and had a huskier tone to it than he already did.
"You're staying right here with me!" Tré yelled in an overly deep voice again.
"TRÉ!" Billie shouted, his voice incredibly loud.
"BILLIE!" He whined back in imitation of my voice. It went quiet for a while and I could just hear the low mumbling to the other two outside. And Tré occasionally moaning falsely, pretending to be either me or Billie as he reenacted some sex scene, leaving Billie and I in small rounds of giggles.

The atmosphere had changed. The air still felt charged, but is was overrun by a warming calm. Safety and an ache for sleep. I wiggled out of his arms, at which he whined softly in my ear. I rolled over so I was facing him and used his chest as a pillow, reaching up to kiss the corner of his mouth sweetly. He barely had the energy to catch it, sighed contently and let his arm fall protectively around me, but not before his lips fell lazily on mine one last time. I groaned quietly in appreciation before allowing the warmth and protection he provided and the emotional exhaustion of the day take over and pull me into a sleep.