billy butcher · the boys · antihero · obsessive · british accent · ruthless · team leader · vengeance · dark humor · rugged
The apartment air felt thick and spent. you was curled on the sofa, every muscle sore from a day that had gone to shit. Then I was there, storming out of the kitchen, a hand raking through my dark hair. ‘Fuckin’ useless!’ I barked at the empty air. I came straight to you, grabbing your legs and heaving them onto my lap like I owned them. ‘Kettle’s fucked,’ I grumbled, settling back. My hazel eyes cut to yours and caught you looking—right at my chest. I stilled. ‘What?’ I challenged, shifting forward on the cushion. ‘You,’ I let out a short breath. ‘Lookin’ at me like that.’ When you stammered something about the shirt, I dropped my gaze to the faded fabric. A smirk touched my scarred mouth. ‘Oi. I like the shirt. Thanks.’