Mickey Altieri X Reader Where She Starts Getting Suspicious Of Him But Ignores It Cause Hes Her Boyfriend

mickey altieri x reader where she starts getting suspicious of him but ignores it cause he’s her boyfriend (and she’s in denial) until one day she accidentally catches him still in costume without him knowing. Reader then starts avoiding him and is super upset and doesn’t know what to do until one day he shows up and asks her why she’s been avoiding him. She tells Mickey that she saw him in the Ghostface costume and knows that he is the killer and he tries to explain himself and tries to calm her down. She’s very upset about it and is scared that he might hurt her but he reassures her that he won’t. She loves him so she eventually decides to stay with him anyway and promises that she won’t leave him or tell anyone abt him being the killer… I hope this made sense lol I feel like I put a lot I’m just in desperate need of mickey fics 😭

Mickey Altieri x Reader: Please.

Warnings: swearing, manipulation (mickey manipulates the reader to stay by his side), lack of morals from reader's side, mentions of blood and murder.

Word count: 2160

Author's note: i'm living for these requests! with this little piece, i was able to answer two of them, that's why i added the other one. i love mickey, but i actually struggled with writing this one because my moral alarm was going off everytime i tried to think of a reason for reader to stay with mickey after finding out... that's why i went down the manipulation path! hope you like it, and remember, no matter how 'unoriginal' or 'boring' you think your reqs may be, i love getting them and will most probably write them <3

also in here mickey is a little dumb dumb because he goes into his dorm with the ghostface costume on, something that i don't think mickey would actually do... but anyways! no more spoilers :)

graphic by me! also, i'm leaving my mickey altieri playlist, if anyone wants to take a look at it, feel free!

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! requests are open, especially for scream! hit that anon button and tell me your ideas. in the scream fandom, i write for billy loomis, stu macher, mickey altieri, chad martin-meeks, mindy martin-meeks, tara carpenter, anika kayoko, laura crane

The pounding of your heart was the only thing you could feel as you shut your eyes close and try not to make a damn sound. You knew you hadn’t been meant to witness what you had since the moment your mind had been able to connect the dots together, just some minutes ago, and now you were just trying not to discover yourself.

The sounds of someone moving around Mickey’s room had woken you up from your heavy sleep, the coldness from your boyfriend not being by your side anymore easing you up to reality. You had barely opened your eyes, a quick flutter that registered the small lamp in Mickey’s desk shedding its light in the figure next to it. Your heart had stopped at the sight of the figure who, even though had its back turned to you, you could recognize everywhere after last week’s news.

Someone was on a murder spree on campus, dressed with the same costume the figure there was wearing, so it was natural for your first thought to be that you were the next victim. You even saw the knife in the figure’s hand, blade stained with blood that meant you weren’t about to be the only dead of the night. But, before you could even think about moving to try and save your life, the figure had taken the ghostly mask off and you had recognized Mickey, your dear and loved and lovely boyfriend Mickey, in less than a second. That was when you had stopped breathing, your eyes closing as you tried to wash the sight of the bloody knife off your mind, and your heart trying to escape from your chest.

You waited in silence, trying to control the thoughts that raced through your mind, and not making a single move that could expose you to Mickey. Luckily enough, he got out of the room with a towel on his shoulder, to go and use the communitary shower, and that allowed you to breathe deep before trying to control the panic trying to take over your body.

Was Mickey really the killer? When you opened your eyes again, the costume was nowhere to be seen but it was not like you had the imagination to make that up. And if you were true to yourself, Mickey had been shady as fuck. Oh, God, were you really suspecting your own boyfriend of being a killer? The evidence had been right there, in front of your eyes — that wasn’t suspecting anymore.

When some steps could be heard outside the door, you forced yourself to close your eyes, trying to focus on anything other than the sick feeling messing with your stomach. You kept yourself grounded, hidden between the pillow and the sheets, and your body stilled terribly when Micky got himself on bed, like nothing had happened. He smelled sweet, the scent of his shampoo surrounding you.

Quietly, you held your breath as his arms surrounded you, lovingly, and you waited for something — anything — to happen.

You waited for the whole night, but nothing other than Mickey swiftly falling asleep did.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The days passed by, and your mind couldn’t help but bring back the image of Mickey on the costume with the bloody knife whenever you were around him. And that was terrible, because you spent an incredible amount of time with Mickey, which quickly brought you to avoid him.

At first it was rather small and subtle — made up group projects, very real homework, studying. Then, the need to be on your own, which triggered his suspicions of something else going on. You were inevitably jumpy around him during those times you ran out of excuses, laughing less than usual and sometimes even zoning out on him. The thought of you losing your feelings for him was nearly driving him insane.

Mickey couldn’t stop thinking about you during his film history course, and not in a good way. From college, his murder spree and now you acting up, he had received a ridiculous amount of stress — enough to make him space out in every single class of his. In the middle of the lesson he had already made up his mind about having to talk things out with you and figure out what he had said or done to upset you that much.

When the class ended he was the first one to get out, without even saying goodbye to Randy, and heading towards the classroom he knew you’d be in. You both had learned each other’s schedules after spending so much time together, and that hour was perfect, since his class ended a little bit before yours and both were the last classes of the day.

Oblivious to his presence outside the classroom, you calmly gathered your things once the class came to an end, agreeing a date and hour with the partner you had been assigned to for your next project. Attending your classes and focusing on your schoolwork kept your mind off things — things being Mickey — but as soon as you crossed the classroom doors and saw him there, it all came back.

Mickey smiled at you, even if you didn’t smile back, and walked towards you with that easy going manner of doing things he had. You waited for him with your fingers drumming against your side, which he caught on — weren’t you happy to see him? Even if he had verbalized that question, he wouldn’t have gotten an answer.

“Hey.”

“I didn’t know you were coming.” You said, forcing a smile that, surprisingly, hadn’t felt so forced. Maybe you had been slipping lately, but your objective was not to be killed, and you didn’t know how far he was planning on going. “I have to go to the library, do you want to hang after—?”

“I just wanna talk to you for a minute.” Mickey interrupted you, grabbing the hand you had use to lightly gesture around.

Your heart started pounding so loudly you were afraid he able to hear it. He wasn't, but you didn’t notice his fingers pressing on the pulse point on your grip, checking that, indeed, you were pretty nervous. “It can’t wait?”

“It’ll be just a min.” Mickey promised, insisting oh so charmingly. He squeezed your hand once. “Please?”

How were you supposed to say no to him when he asked so nicely, with his head cocked and his eyes shining? You nodded softly and sighed under your breath, letting him take you wherever he wanted as you tried not to think too much about it.

He led you outside and to the side of the building, a not so hidden place that equally allowed you to be seen by the students walking through campus but not be heard unless you raised your voices. You found yourself terribly afraid of noticing all these things, but Mickey letting your hand go and placing himself across from you got your attention too fast.

“What’s gotten into you?” He finally asked, head cocked.

It took you a second to catch it. “What?”

“You think I haven’t noticed?” Mickey pursed his lips slightly, then shook his head. He truly looked worried. “You can’t avoid me forever.”

“I’m not avoiding—”

“Oh, please.” Mickey waved his hand to make you stop, diminishing your ridiculous attempt to fool him. “Don’t lie to me like that. Just… tell me what I did wrong so I can undo it and—”

You started shaking your head, nervous. “It’s not— It’s not like that.”

The look in Mickey’s eyes was so helpless that you felt how your heart started to crumble. “Please?”

You looked away from him, feeling the fast way your heart was pumping blood. If you had been seated, you would have started to bounce your leg up and down — Mickey couldn’t be more confused at your nervous-wreck state.

“Are you the murderer?” You asked in a whisper, almost not daring to look up to see his reaction.

But his face didn’t tell you anything. Mickey was completely emotionless as he stared back into your eyes, his brain processing very slowly those four words that had just left your mouth. How could you know? He was sure he had been really careful, trying not to let his mood after a kill or planning affect any scenario between you. Mickey knew you were smart, but how?

That was not the right direction to go, though, he realized as you waited for him to give you an answer. You had been acting all weird around him because of being scared of him, and that feeling didn’t make him feel entirely good. 

“Listen…” He started, coming a step closer to you, but you instantly backed away.

“Don’t.” You hissed rather abruptly, still not believing he hadn’t denied it completely and put an end to your delusion. You were right. “If you get closer I’ll scream.”

“Sweetheart!” Mickey exclaimed, surprised, his eyebrows shooting up as the pet name he reserved for your softest moments slipping past his lips in what was an improvised plan of manipulation. The seriousness in his voice and face was the only thing you could pay attention to, though. “I wouldn’t hurt you. You know that, right?”

You hesitated and he almost hissed right then. Falling for you hadn’t been on his plan, but now that same plan was being threatened just because you had found — and he couldn’t have that happen. Mickey wouldn’t kill you, no, but his partner easily could if you did something stupid, and he also did not want you to go to the police saying things about him and the murders. He needed to think of a solution, and fast.

“Then why would you hurt others?” You said hastily, then your head looking around you to really make sure no one was listening. “You’ve killed people, Mickey. I knew some of them—”

“You have to trust me.” He interrupted you instantly. There was only one way out, as he saw it: manipulation. Mickey needed you by his side. His acting skills were enough for you to stop looking so nervous, watching closely how his eyes fell to the floor in fake defeat — but you didn’t know he was acting. You didn’t even know he was a star. “I can’t tell you but you have to trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

His hand reached out to grab yours, but you dodged it, rather defensive. “And why would I trust you?”

“Because I’m not a liar.” Mickey frowned slightly. If you didn’t let him convince you of staying by his side, he would have to… The way he called out your name was rather heartbreaking, this time managing to catch your hand and pressing it against his chest. “Please. I wouldn’t hurt you, and you know that.”

He was making you doubt, he realized, as your eyes fell to your hand on his chest. Mickey seemed desperate from your eyes — begging you to stay. But it wasn’t right… “It just… this changes so many things.”

Mickey shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. I still love you, and I always will.” His promise sounded genuine, and it was. There was no denying that, Mickey truly loved you. If he didn’t, you would already be another number on his back, after those little four words you said to him. 

But there he was, playing tricks on your mind without you noticing. “I’d trade my life for yours.”

“Mickey…”

“I wouldn’t know what to do without you.” He insisted, more strongly now. His eyes continuously searched for yours, knowing you wouldn’t be able to deny him if you were looking right into his eyes. “Please, please, you have to trust me. Don’t you love me anymore?”

The question shocked you, and if you had been in your right mind, you would have realized the length of the manipulation. But in that moment it only made you gasp, surprised that he would actually question it with such a real expression. 

You were quick. “Of course I do!”

“Then…” A sigh interrupted Mickey, who looked down, letting your hand go. He didn’t need that much dramatism, but now that he had actually gotten used to the part, why stop? “Please.”

There wasn’t much thinking from your side. Mickey had asked you to please trust him, and that was what you were going to do. He had also promised not to hurt you, and you knew him too well — or so you thought. There needed to be more behind all this, and you had to be by his side. 

“I trust you.” You muttered after some seconds, and he looked up instantly. A soft smile blossomed in his lips as you nodded. “I won’t tell, I promise.”

Mickey leaned closer to you, with the swiftest movement, a hand cupping your cheek. “I love you.” He whispered softly.

“I love you too.” You replied against his lips.

this is so pretty whaa

the class of the year

read the thing you wrote abt mickey altieri 🥺🥺 i love that man so much. if i could, i was wondering if i could request something abt him? maybe something where the read has insomnia and he helps them actually sleep <33 only if you want, of course 🫶

Mickey Altieri x Reader: Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby.

Words: 1199

Warnings: mickey is a killer but reader doesn’t know that (however this is not what the fic is about). there are light mentions of anxiety, stress and pills (for headaches), i think there's swearing (bc it's me).

Summary: after a movie night with your boyfriend mickey, you don’t want to go to sleep.

Author's note: thank you so much for requesting, @altierirose!!! mickey will always have my heart, and he’s so fun to write for. i didn’t make this explicitly about insomnia, but reader does have trouble sleeping and that’s what this is about. no hate to dirty dancing, btw!!! (just a bit.) i'm giving you a follow bc there's not much people appreciating our boy... feel free to request whenever !!!! this is my attempt at not using "y/n" anymore.

Criticism is appreciated and request are open (except for the Wednesday fandom)! Hit that anon button and tell me your idea! You can see the character i write for HERE.

Every Friday night was reserved to you and Mickey since you two had started dating, some months after the beginning of your first college year. It had been agreed by the two of you, because you had soon realized that college life was messy, difficult and crowded; and a little bit of bonding time reserved for your relationship sounded like a good idea. Slowly, it escalated from cute little dates in the campus’ cafeteria to coffee shops outside the enclosure, until you two finally retreated to one plan and one plan only — movie night.

Fairly chosen, one week he was the one to choose one of his movies in between his precious collection, worthy of a Film student; and the next one you would choose, sometimes with better or worse criteria, but always having fun. Popcorn, candy and a blanket pulling you close together, his hand either around your shoulders or wrapped around your waist, letting you lean into him. It was a great plan for a Friday night.

This week it was your turn, and you had purposely chosen a movie that would piss off his movie buff extraordinare’s taste; something like Dirty Dancing. Mickey had bitched around for quite a while, not letting you hear the somewhat awful dialogues, but amusing you anyway because even if he could be annoying, Mickey was still funny and charming, in his own way.

The movie ended not too late, to Mickey’s relief, and as soon as the credits rolled in your little TV he jumped out of the bed with the empty bowl of popcorn in his hands, while he roasted the movie like it had personally offended him.

“It just makes no sense.” He said, putting the bowl in the only table you and your roommate had in your shared dorm. Your friend had always been kind and comprehensive enough to allow you to have the dorm whenever Derek, Mickey’s roommate, didn’t want to leave his. Mickey turned to you, still in bed, with a wide grin. “And seriously, Baby? It’s just so unrealistic for someone to spend a whole summer being called Baby by everyone.”

“Mickey, it’s a movie.” You laughed quietly, your head cocking to the side. 

Mickey pointed at you with his index finger. “That’s not an excuse, and you know that.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Whatever.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at that sight, and you watched him do so. Mickey looked really handsome when he laughed, as his face filled with joy and beaming happiness — you liked the way he enjoyed himself around you. It was something sweet.

“I’m dead.” Mickey was able to say as soon as he stopped laughing, exhaustion washing over him after a hard week. His body felt sore, you could tell by the way he crawled to your side in bed. His body next to yours, even on top of the sheets and blanket, felt so familiar. A smile was shot your way. “Let’s go to sleep, uh?”

Something inside you crumbled suddenly as soon as you saw him getting inside the bed, without bothering to look if you were doing the same because he thought it was rather obvious. It produced you a feeling close to anxiety, thinking about sleeping while you slid by his side — this week had been hard on both of you, but what had kicked your ass the most wasn’t assignments and classes, like it had happened to him, but sleep. 

A series of all-nighters the last week had thrown you off, and now your sleep schedule was messed up. You had laid in bed every night, eyes closed, waiting for Orpheus to sweep you out of the world and into sleeping, but it hadn’t happened — as much, an hour or two before your alarm went off you would fall slightly asleep, producing you low headaches that you had successfully avoided with a few pills.

“But it’s so early.” You said, and your voice went a little higher like it used to do whenever you lied, catching Mickey’s attention.

His eyes drifted to your alarm clock behind you, head tilted. “You’re not tired?”

“I am.” You sighed, and then you stuttered a bit, before confessing. “But… I haven’t been sleeping well. It’s– It’s silly.”

Mickey’s body language changed instantly. His back straightened, so he could sit up with it against the headboard, body turned to look at you and give you his full attention. His eyes scanned you slightly, making you look away in embarrassment — you were a grown adult, and not wanting to go to sleep without a good reason was childish, you knew. 

“Is this about the murders going on?” Mickey asked quietly, like someone else apart from you could hear him talking about the matter that had been hunting everyone in your circle for the last couple of weeks. Two people had been murdered in the new, based on real events, slasher’s opening night. “Because if it’s that, I can promise you, you have nothing to worry about.”

“No, it’s not that.” You shook your head, to prove your point, then just shrugged. Mickey watched you curiously, carefully. “I think I’m just too stressed. The exams, and all… College life isn’t as good as they paint it and, I don’t know, maybe I can’t take it.”

A beat of silence, then two, before Mickey’s brows furrowed together. “That’s bullshit.” It surprised you enough to not let you speak instantly, giving him time to speak first. “I mean, I understand you being stressed, it’s natural. But if you can’t take it, then no one can.”

“That’s not true.”

“But it is!” He insisted, seriousness written all over his face. You had only seen him this serious once or twice before, when he was passionately defending a horror movie from Randy’s criticism, and when he had asked you out for the first time. “I think you’re taking it all too seriously. You stress too much about every single test and—”

“But it is serious, Mickey.” You interrupted softly, wrapping your arms around your knees for comfort. “I can’t slow down.”

“It shouldn’t take your sleep away.” He retorted. His hand reached out for you, comfortably squeezing once. “You’re doing great. I mean that. But you need to chill.”

Nodding slightly, your gaze fell down and away from him, processing his words. The silence settled between you, but Mickey needed to know what you were thinking — not anymore to have the upperhand, but because he was worried, and if there was something pure in him, that was his love for you. 

His hand left yours to barely graze your chin, lifting your head and gaze up. “Is that all of it?” Mickey asked softly. His eyes shone. “Nothing more on your mind?”

“That’s all.” You muttered, nodding slightly. He gave you a smile.

“Wanna go to sleep now?” 

Once again you nodded, and you two slid inside the bed. He switched off the lights and his arm surrounding your waist and pulling you closer didn’t startle you. Mickey didn’t fall asleep until you did, surrendering yourself to the calm circles Mickey rubbed onto your back and his even breathing close to you.

hi, stayville!

i'm writing a skz lee felix-centered fic at ao3, placing them on hogwarts with a wizarding world au which i think it's turning out pretty fucking cool!! if you like the wizarding world, especially the eras regarding the marauders and the first magical war, it would mean the world if you checked it out!!! here's the link:

it's called felix felicis! it will contain a txt ensemble and ateez ensemble because they're basically the groups i stan. you can also find my spotify playlist for it here:

Spotify

felix felicis

hope someone likes it <3

he's just a little dude....

people will bring up the fictional murder as if i had anything to do with it or could stop it. like i’m not aware. “you know this freak KILLS people right?” man what do you want me do about that. i’m not his keeper. he’s funny to observe. and also not real

Billy Loomis x Reader: even the strong ones break.

Words: 1315

Warnings: bad parenting, swearing probably, not proofread, i can’t remember lol

Summary:    It was the first time ever you had seen Billy cry, and it was certainly shocking to see him fall apart so miserably, but that wasn’t stopping you from trying to make him feel better. He had been strong for a while now, and everyone needed a break from time to time, even Billy Loomis.

Author's note: OKAY SO MY SCREAM OBSESSION IS STILL STANDING, and i’ve been writing in ao3 instead of in here because i wanted to get away from my responsabilities and numerous dodge mason & wednesday show request. sorry, i got overwhelmed, but i’m back, and i’m bringing all of my pieces in ao3 with me. here you go. you can find the link to ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39896499

Criticism is appreciated and request are open! Hit that anon button and tell me your idea! The list for the characters I write is HERE.

Your head hurt from reading with a bad light for too long. The simplicity in the beauty of reading every night before going to sleep had taken you a bit too far, but what could you say? You weren’t giving up on reading just because of a light headache, you were strong enough to handle it.  

Still, you had enough for tonight and you decided to put your current read aside in order to already go to sleep. Your eyelids felt too heavy to continue and you could be stubborn, but not dumb enough to fall asleep while reading in an uncomfortable position that would have you complaining the next day. Your arm reached out for the switch next to your bed, turning the lights off after you had gotten in bed, ready to get some good quality sleep. It was perfect: the bed felt nice, your pillow was cold, the sheets were smooth against your skin, it wasn’t too hot nor too cold in your room and there were some nice, comforting sounds outside the window.

There were noises outside your window. You jumped out of the bed once your brain was able to process the fact, without needing to wonder who it could be. Stu had never snuck through your window, which didn’t sound that weird knowing he didn't have what it took to speak softly after sneaking into your room — Billy, however, was all about crawling through your bedroom’s window and being secretly soft. He had justified his passion for sneaking in with the adrenaline of maybe getting caught, but you also knew it kinda had to do with the quick of energy he got whenever he saw you. 

You unlocked your window as fast as you could and opened it, immediately stepping aside to let Billy sneak in, knowing he would need no help to do so. He had become a real expert with that, and that’s the reason why your alarms got set off when you saw how Billy almost tripped with his feet once he was in your room. 

“Well, it’s dark in here.” He said, and even his voice sounded off. More dry and less playful than usual. “Were you sleeping?”

“I was about to,” you shrugged before turning around to switch the lights on. Once there was light, you carefully glanced at him, noticing the exhaustion and anger on his face. “Everything alright, Billy?”

Billy nodded, looking away. “Yeah. Just got bored from the fighting, that’s all.”

Of course, that was the reason why he was acting so strangely. It had taken Billy an eternity to confess his parents had been fighting a lot lately, and he was a worse actor than he thought he was — since he had opened up, all the signs of him acting different instantly gave away how hurt he felt, even though neither you or Stu thought he would ever admit it. Billy was too proud for that, but you sometimes just wished he would let his pride aside.

“Can I—?” Billy’s voice broke before he could finish his question. You immediately looked at him, alarmed and shocked when you discovered tears in Billy’s cold eyes. He looked as vulnerable as he did annoyed with himself. “Fuck!”

“Hey…” You walked up to him and put your hand to his arm, not wanting to overwhelm him. The physical contact actually made him sob and break down in furious tears, but you knew it wasn’t your fault “Oh, Billy”

You pulled him in for a hug, comfortably wrapping your arms around him. Billy leaned into your touch, incapable of stopping his crying as you tried to comfort him and ground him. It was the first time ever you had seen Billy cry, and it was certainly shocking to see him fall apart so miserably, but that wasn’t stopping you from trying to make him feel better. He had been strong for a while now, and everyone needed a break from time to time, even Billy Loomis. 

“It’s so bad, Y/N,” sobbed Billy, pressing his head into your shoulder. “They’re filing for divorce”

You caressed his black hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. “I’m so sorry, Billy.” Your hand traveled to his back, rubbing circles there.

Billy shook in your arms, and you guessed it was anger. If you had learned something about him during the last months was the amount of fury and anger he had inside him, a type of anger not even football allowed him to break out from. He snapped from time to time, snickering and saying things he regretted later, and he would bottle up his feelings and hide them in the darkest place — Stu had told you to get used to it. You just thought it was sad —. Being able to see him like that was kind of comforting, knowing he wasn’t holding back from his feelings anymore, but it was also terribly painful, because it showed how much he was hurting and that hurt you too.

“Talk to me, Billy.” You murmured, holding him tightly to make sure he knew you were there for him.

He shook with his head, and you mentally cursed his mentality of keeping everything to himself. As he kept shaking, you kept stroking his hair and drawing grounding circles on his back. You didn’t make him move until he had kept shaking, pulling him slightly away from you to check how he was, to see into his soul through his truthful eyes. 

Billy had stopped crying, no more tears were coming out of his dark eyes, but he kept sobbing like a kid who had fallen while riding his bike. Your hand came to his face to cup his cheek, lovingly caressing the clear skin with your thumb.

“Stay for the night.” The whisper came out of your lips without you having to think about it, and Billy instantly nodded, looking away. He hated that you were seeing him like that.

The hand that was cupping his face fell to his hand, so you could carefully grab it and guide him to your bed. Billy joined you in the bed once you had already laid down, and it surprised you when instead of laying down next to you, he crawled towards you and found a space for himself in between your thighs, finally laying down with his head pressing against your chest. Half Billy’s weight was on you, but thanks to the way he had laid down it was definitely manageable. Stu was the one who did that, claiming the space between your thighs, while Billy usually played the role of the big spoon by your side. 

“Hey, Billy,” you muttered through his infinite sobs, muffled by his head pressed against his chest. Still, you knew he was listening to you. “I love you. A lot, okay? You know that, right?”

In sync with a sob, Billy nodded his head. You didn’t need for him to say it back, not at that moment at least. But you guessed he really needed it to hear it from you, and you guessed right. 

Billy’s sobs grew quieter with the time passing, but you kept holding him and playing with his head in order to distract him. You could still, from time to time, hear a muffled sob that let you know he hadn’t still cried himself to sleep. It actually took you some moments to realize he had fallen asleep when he did, but the way he breathed calmly and heavily and the silence gave it away after some minutes. Only when you were completely sure Billy wouldn’t wake up, you reached your arm out to switch the lights off again, this time ready to sleep. Before closing your eyes, you leaned in to kiss Billy’s forehead, murmuring again the words i love you, wondering if he could hear it in his sleep.