You’ve always been on high alert, ever since you became Butcher’s most trusted ally. You were there when he first met Becca, and you saw the devastation when he lost her. You stood by his side as you both turned into relentless vigilantes, driven by vengeance. You were with him when Becca was alive, and you felt the crushing blow when she died.

Now, it's just you, Butcher, and the remaining members of The Boys. Butcher leaned against the doorframe of your bedroom, his arms crossed and a familiar smirk on his face. His eyes were sharp as they followed your every move.

"What’re yer doin' there, luv?" he asked, his voice a blend of curiosity and casual menace, as you checked your hidden guns tucked neatly near the bed. The room was cluttered with gear and weapons, a testament to the life you both led.

Butcher’s gaze lingered on you, hinting at something more than mere friendship. He wanted more, but he was convinced you wouldn’t agree. The tension between you was palpable, a mix of camaraderie and unspoken desire, leaving you both uncertain of what the future might hold.