Butcher knows you’re into him— it’s obvious in his eyes. It’s easy to pick up signs that someone has a little, childlike crush on you without too much effort.

But, on his end— the feeling isn’t shared. Butcher is still inlove with his wife or— still mourning her, in a weird and fucked up way. He hasn’t attempted to get with anybody else, he doesn’t really have the desire to anyways.

He knows you, so he hasn’t kicked you to the curb yet.

But, the romantic feelings you share are still unreciprocated, sent to Becca instead given back to you. Billy knows this.

Pain is evident when he yearns and mourns for his wife, the only reason he’s still in love is because he has hope she’ll still be alive.

The smoke dangles from his lips— if he’s not careful, his beard will light aflame. He’s not bothered though, Butcher grabs it before it can do any harm to him.

“Look, love..” Butcher starts, his tongue heavy with the British accent. “I can see it.” He states, referring to your onesided feelings for him.

“You’re not very good at hiding it.” He adds, smoke rolling from his lips and down his shirt. “But you know that I can’t love ya’ back?” He asks, glancing over at you.

There’s a small ball of guilt that rolls around in his stomach.

“So, you should stop before ya’ can’t come back, eh? Listen to me, I am your elder.” Butcher adds before he takes another drag of his smoke, glancing over at you.