"the history book on the shelf -- is always repeating itself!!"
listening to waterloo and wanted an excuse to draw loop-in
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hii, i loved what you wrote for billy so far and i thought i'd send you a request! maybe you could write something with a singer!reader who he sees perform at a saloon (kinda lucy gray & coryo vibes when he watches her sing at the hob)? hope you have a lovely day x
HI BABY yes hi hello, i’m here from the dead (finals week) to work through my asks!!! i love this idea sm—
poor thing would be so worn out, rubbing his tired eyes, ignoring the chatter going on beside him from jesse and the other boys. it’s been a long, hard day. his limbs ache, his shoulders and back tense. his hands have blisters from pulling at reigns all day and he can feel the heat on the high points of his cheekbones that radiate from a sunburn. all billy really wants to do is head back to their little hidey-house and collapse onto his bed, but the boys insisted on a drink.
billy would be blinking owlishly, chin resting on his hand as he tries to stay awake, but then someone is picking up a fiddle. a guitar joins in and then his eyes are wide open, perking up at the sweetest voice he’s ever heard. his back straightens up as he looks to the corner of the little bar, eyes landing on you as you twirl about the little makeshift stage. your dress swishes in the light of the oil lamps, your smile charming and fun.
he thinks he must be dreaming as the song goes on, especially when you meet his gaze and he watches as your brows twitch upwards, just barely. interestedly. he lifts the corner of his lips in a shy sort of smile, his cheeks now warm from more than just the hours he spent in the sun. you watch him watching you, your own smile growing when his does.
when you finish your song, you laugh and take a little bow, shimmying your ruffly skirts at the cheers of everyone in the place. then, you excuse yourself after blowing a kiss to the crowd. his eyes follow you, his heartbeat kicking up in his chest as you make your way towards him. surely this is all in his mind. maybe he’d fallen asleep propped up on his palm, dreaming up a pretty little thing like you.
but no, it’s very real when you come to a stop before him and lean on his table. jesse and the boys go quiet, all watching.
“hi there, cowboy,” you say, giving him a sticky-sweet grin. he flounders for a moment.
“h-hi, miss,” he manages to get out, standing politely and removing his hat. oh yes, he is wide awake.
his boyish stuttering seems to make your own face light up even more, amused.
“you got a name?” you ask, stepping a little closer to him. your hand reaches out to slide the tips of your fingers down one of his leather suspender straps and he doesn’t even try to hide his little shiver.
“i’m billy.”
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