The afternoon sun filtered through the wide windows of Finneas's home studio, casting a warm glow over the scattered instruments and recording equipment. Billie sprawled on the worn leather couch, her arms flung over her head, her brown hair pulled into a lazy bun. She had just sung her heart out, and now the post-session calm settled over her like a cozy blanket.

Finneas, perched on a swivel chair, spun it lazily to face her. "So..." he began, smirking as he plucked an acoustic guitar string. "How's your new bodyguard?"

Billie peeked at him from under her arm, her expression guarded. "He's aight."

Finneas raised a brow. "Just 'aight'? You've had him for what-two months now? I thought you'd have a better read on him."

"He does his job," Billie said simply, shrugging. "Keeps people away, doesn't say much. He's like a tall, scary shadow."

Finneas laughed. "A scary shadow with a British accent. Nice."

Billie sat up, tossing a pillow at him. "Don't make it weird!"

"I'm just curious!" Finneas protested, catching the pillow with ease. "Can I meet him? Maybe we can compare notes. You know, get him to spill what it's like putting up with you every day."

Billie shot him a mock glare. "Noooo," she drawled, dragging out the word.

"Why not?" he pressed, clearly amused.

"Because you'll embarrass me," she said, crossing her arms. "You'll do that thing where you start acting all 'protective big brother,' like I need saving from everything."

Finneas smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Sounds like you're the one who's embarrassed. What's the deal with this guy? Is he hot or something?"

Billie rolled her eyes dramatically. "Oh my God, shut up."

Finneas's smirk widened. "That's a yes."

Later that night, Billie found herself scrolling through her phone in the living room while Finneas fiddled with a synth in the studio. The house was quiet, the kind of silence that felt safe and grounding. She sent a quick text to Cedric, even though she had insisted he take the day off.

Billie: Hey, how's your day off?

The response came almost instantly.

Cedric: Quiet. How's yours?

Billie: Studio with Fin. He's asking about you.

Cedric: What did you say?

Billie: That you're scary and British.

There was a long pause before his reply.

Cedric: Sounds accurate.

Billie snorted, shaking her head. She liked texting Cedric more than she'd admit. There was something oddly fun about poking at his gruffness through a screen.

The next day, Cedric was back on duty, standing in his usual spot near the entrance of Billie's house. He was back in his standard black attire, the balaclava snug over his face, though Billie had gotten used to rolling it up in private moments to catch a glimpse of his sharp jawline and rare smiles.

"Morning, C," Billie teased as she breezed past him, holding a to-go cup of iced coffee.

Cedric sighed but didn't correct her. "Good morning, Miss Eilish. Plans today?"

"Yeah," she said, spinning on her heel to face him. "Finneas wants you to come over. He's been bugging me to introduce you."

Cedric tilted his head slightly, a rare moment of hesitation. "Is that... necessary?"

"Relax," she said with a grin. "He's harmless. Just wants to size you up, probably make sure you're not secretly an assassin or something."

Cedric gave her a flat look. "That's comforting."

"Don't worry," she said, patting his arm as she walked toward the car. "If he gets too nosy, I'll save you."

Finneas's house was a mix of cozy and creative chaos, with instruments scattered everywhere and walls lined with shelves of vinyl records. Cedric followed Billie inside, his imposing frame contrasting sharply with the laid-back vibe of the space.

"Fin!" Billie called out, kicking off her sneakers.

Finneas appeared from the studio, his expression lighting up when he spotted Cedric. "Ah, the famous bodyguard!"

Cedric nodded politely. "Mr. O'Connell."

Finneas waved him off. "Please, just Finneas. No need to be so formal."

Billie plopped onto the couch, grabbing a throw pillow to hug. "See? I told you he'd embarrass me."

"I'm just being friendly," Finneas said, grinning as he sized up Cedric. "Man, you're huge. Do you lift cars for fun or something?"

Cedric allowed himself a small smirk. "Not quite."

"Cool, cool," Finneas said, leaning against the armrest of a chair. "So, how's it been working with Billie? She driving you crazy yet?"

Cedric glanced at Billie, who was glaring at her brother. "She keeps me on my toes," he said diplomatically.

"Good answer," Finneas said with a laugh. "Is he always this serious?"

Billie rolled her eyes. "He's not that serious. He has his moments."

Finneas raised a brow. "Oh? Like what?"

"Like nothing," Cedric interjected smoothly, cutting off whatever Billie was about to say.

"Aw, come on," Finneas teased. "Now I'm curious."

Billie grinned mischievously. "He reads Pride and Prejudice."

Finneas's eyes widened, and he turned to Cedric. "No way."

Cedric sighed, clearly regretting ever mentioning it. "It's a good book."

"Okay, okay," Finneas said, holding up his hands. "I respect that."

After about an hour of chatting (and Billie glaring at Finneas every time he got too nosy), Cedric finally got a reprieve. He stepped outside to take a call, leaving the siblings alone.

"So," Finneas said, turning to Billie with a knowing look. "You like him."

Billie blinked, feigning confusion. "What? No. He's just my bodyguard."

"Sure," Finneas said, smirking. "You've been smiling like an idiot all day, and you've barely roasted me, which means your attention's somewhere else. Face it, you've got a crush."

Billie groaned, burying her face in the pillow. "You're delusional."

"Am I?" Finneas pressed. "Come on, Bill. You're not subtle."

"Even if I did-which I don't-it's not like anything would happen," she mumbled. "He's just doing his job."

"Maybe," Finneas said with a shrug. "But you're not imagining the way he looks at you."

Billie peeked at him from behind the pillow. "What are you talking about?"

Finneas grinned. "You'll see."

On the drive back, Billie sat quietly in the backseat, stealing glances at Cedric in the rearview mirror. His expression was as unreadable as ever, but Finneas's words lingered in her mind.

She shook her head, forcing herself to focus on her phone. There was no way Cedric felt anything for her. He was professional to a fault, always keeping her at arm's length.

But then again, there were those rare moments-when he let his guard down, when his gruff exterior softened just enough to make her wonder.

Maybe Finneas wasn't so delusional after all.