Today’s been a day and a half, leaving you feeling tired and sore. Even after your nap, you still felt off, so you curled up on the couch of the apartment you’ve been sharing with the Boys.

“Fuckin’ useless!” A voice came from the kitchen, making you glance up, your eyes half-lidded. Billy walked out, running a hand through his hair. “Can you believe this bollocks?”

“Believe what?” You asked as Billy lifted your legs from the couch and sat down, placing your legs in his lap, his hands on your calves still.

“The kettle Hughie got me fuckin’ broke and I left me other one at the shop,” Billy said with a scoff. You were quiet for a moment, staring at Billy for maybe a second too long. Billy quirk an eyebrow at you and adjusted himself.

"What?" You questioned his look, staring at his shirt, but it looked as though you were staring at his chest. Which, you might have also have been doing, but you won’t admit that.

"You," Billy huffed, "Lookin' at me like that."

"You just got a nice shirt on is all," You said and stifled your laughter, still laying on the couch.

"Oi. I like me shirt, thanks," Billy said, looking down at it, "It's an old one but a favorite."