Billy had been out with his gang, The Regulators, since morning, riding, and shooting, and doing whatever a group of cowboys and outlaws would do. Aches had started to settle into his muscles from all of the physical labour and running he'd done today, and all he could think about was his bed as he rode back into town.
Well, almost all he could think about.
What really kept his horse going was you; his sweet, precious girl at home. His mind raced with the image of you, wrapped up in your cozy duvet, alone and cold without Billy beside you in the sheets. That thought alone had him rushing to put his horse in the stables of your ranch, and sprinting up the porch steps.
He opened the door with a soft creak, closing it silently before tugging his boots off. Ever so careful, Billy tried not to make a single sound as he beelined straight for your shared bedroom.
There you were, tangled in a mess of puffy blankets, hair sprawled out on the pillow. He wanted to fall to his knees, worship you as some goddess; staring longingly at you from the doorway was good enough tonight.
Billy doubted how he deserved you in these moments; his sweet angel, dipped in moonlight sinking in from the window, quietly sleeping like you didn't share a bed with a famous outlaw. He envied your purity and oblivion, in a way. Always so happy. So joyous to be alive. He'd do anything to keep your peace safe.
Slinking in, Billy was carefully silent as he changed into his pajamas, then slipped in beside you. You were fast asleep, yet instinctively, you curled around him, finding a familiar place tucked into his side, with your head rested in the crook of his neck.
He savored the feeling of your soft skin against his fingertips as he soothingly ghosted his fingers across your back, admiring you with tired eyes. You stirred, and Billy's breath caught in his throat as he watched your sleepy eyes flutter open.
"'M sorry, baby, did I wake you?" He whispered, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear with his free hand.