Amelle stood just inside the doorway, her back still pressed lightly against the frame as it clicked shut behind them. She hadn’t said a word yet, partly because she was still processing the chaos that had been the last hour, partly because she couldn’t stop staring at the inside of Billy’s townhouse. It was strange being there, given their no serious shit mantra. It was definitely a different feeling, no hotel bedsheets, no dim villa lighting, this was his space, and she was in it whether intentionally or not.

As Billy swayed towards her with that drunken, puppy-eyed grin, it knocked her straight back into the moment and reality. As his fingers brushed her cheek and he pouted like a mischievous kid, it was clear that he was fully aware that his charm always worked. She caught his face just before he could land the kiss, her hand firmly flat against his chest. Not pushing him away fully, but stopping him advancing. Her eyes locked onto his, she was all for a little misbehaviour and danger, in fact she went through her entire life up to this point being drawn to it. But it was starting to become a little tiring to her.

“You can’t just punch someone in the face and then kiss me like it’s foreplay.” she said sternly, her Italian accent making even the most assertive tone sound attractive, “That was insane, Billy. You were so fucking close to getting arrested. Again!” She knew it just took one look with that devilish glint in his eyes and she'd feel that draw towards him, but she also knew that something had to be said. She was no angel, it felt like their fiery nature was the only thing that made sense to why they were drawn together.

Amelle tilts her head slightly, eyes narrowing just enough to show she’s not buying into Billy’s charm. Not yet, anyway. She lets his thumb linger on her cheek but doesn’t lean into it. Instead, her jaw tenses beneath his touch. "A loudmouth twat, huh?" she repeats back at him, her tone soft but with an underlying edge of anger. "Once or twice, not gonna lie. Kinda sexy, a bit of a turn on.” she says before letting out a sigh, “But it’s every fucking time, Billy. It’s always some bullshit. Starting to get a little old, babe.”

She raises an eyebrow as he moves in closer, her hand slipping to rest lightly on his chest, not pulling him in, not pushing him away either, but making it clear she's not fully swayed by his charm. "You being ‘passionate’ doesn’t give you a free pass to act like a complete fucking asshole, Billy," she says quietly, keeping her voice calm even as irritation simmers beneath. Her eyes lock onto his, unmoved by the smouldering look he knows usually works. "You want forgiveness?" she asks, fingers trailing up the front of his shirt, pausing over his chest. "Then show me you actually hear me, not just play your charm card and hope I melt like always." She pauses, letting the silence linger. Then, softer but still firm with him, "I'm not asking you to grovel. Just to grow up a little." She takes a second before letting out an exasperated laugh, “This is supposed to just be fun.”

And then, with just a faint smirk that mirrors Billy’s own, a flicker of playfulness behind her eyes, “I’m not quite ready to stop having fun with you, yet.” her hand drops, and she steps back slightly. Making it clear that she’s not pushing him away, just letting it be known that they be losing sight of what their whole thing was about in the first place.

Amelle watches Billy’s next move carefully, her arms crossed, folded over her chest. She doesn’t interrupt when he steps back and exhales, she knew what to expect, she’s seen the looks before and heard the lines and the fickle apologies. She believed his apology was sincere but didn’t believe that he’d rein it in, in truth she didn’t believe he was capable of controlling his temper. But for now, the apology was enough to her. Her expression begins to soften towards him, partly because of his charm and partly because she didn’t have the energy to argue all evening. She lets him touch her cheek again, her own hand taking hold of his wrist gently, her touch soft and delicate, “You didn’t scare me,” she says, her voice quiet but her gaze still and piercing, she didn’t have soft eyes, they were sharp, devilish and lustful, “You should know by now that I don’t flinch easy.” she says as she holds eye contact with him for a few lingering moments.

Then, her expression shows a hint of change, the beginnings of a wry smile begin to form, indicating a soften of her stance, “I’m not slapping you. You don’t get to turn apologies into kinks, you fucking menace.” she says, cutting the tension from the room with slight humour. Her fingers run from his wrist and nestle softly into his hand. She closes her eyes for a brief second and exhales, “Where do you keep your coke?” she says with a light giggle.