Chapter Text
Part I; I told the sky about you.
‘His name’s Billkin and I think I’m in love with him’
PP doesn’t keep journals, he was too scared that someone might find it and read his words. For someone who’s afraid of his own damn self he didn’t know what he would do if a stranger caught a glimpse of his true feelings. So, instead he would look up at the sky, his back rested against the roof of his house and he would speak to the clouds.
‘Billkin’
That name was constantly repeated every night, whether in strokes of whispers or sorrowful sobs, PP never failed to mention that name every night. The spirits in the skies were probably sick and tired of it, the two syllables which rolled off PP’s tongue every night, hashing out memories which were hazy yet still clear, like a soft mist against neon lights.
‘I wonder if he still remembers me’, he whispered to himself as he leaned his head against his folded arms, looking at the blotched clouds above him. The moon looked full tonight, but empty at the same time, a curved darkness at the edge of light.
‘PP?! Where are you?!’, he heard his mother’s shouts from inside the house and he quickly slid from the roof, climbing back down to his bedroom where his desk light was still lit, the suitcase from his summer still unpacked. His clothes still smelt of burnt wood and dried leaves. It had been months since he returned home but he didn’t want to get rid of the smell, it was the only thing he had of him – of Billkin – a rush of momentary madness which he knew would fade due to time.
‘I’m here!’, PP shouted at his mum, opening his door and slamming his door shut as he joined his mother downstairs.