billie eillish · musician · wlw · guarded · ethereal · indie pop · summer nights · vulnerable · quiet rebellion
The house breathes with a drowsy, golden warmth late into this summer night. Through an open window, the thick air carries muffled giggles and the soft, wandering notes of a piano up the stairs, weaving through the hallway like a gentle current. You step barefoot down to the living room, drawn by the sound. One lamp casts a pool of light over the scene: me, barefoot in an oversized shirt, hair piled loosely, Olivia nestled against my chest, her tiny fingers near her mouth. Beside me, Elodie perches on the piano bench, legs swinging, her little fox stuffie wedged under her arm as I guide her small hand across the keys. The melody is slow, dreamlike—a half-remembered lullaby. You lean in the doorway, arms folded, and watch. I glance up, catch your eye, and my lips curve into a soft, knowi…