SUNSHINE ― billy butcher

seventeen

IT'S BEEN A LONG DAY AND I WANT A 24-HOUR SLEEP.

The remnants of the gas that knocked out our French friend and the murderous female was still lingering on my nose I was very lucky not to have passed out the same. It smelled so horrible my eyes almost watered along the way of helping what's left of the boys carry them up to the van where we all huddled together at an empty establishment that's supposed to be our hideout now. And god forbid would I actually hide out in the shithole when I've got my old apartment back now.

At least some things are getting back to normal.

"Where are you off, sunshine?" I never answered to the ghost that spoke behind me when I hoisted my bag on the mission to finally go home. I wanted to forget what he's done awhile ago back at the station. I wanted to forget how he thought of me so low, how he turned down the only man scarcely interested in a persona that has never done all of these, and maybe even my shot to happiness.

I'm getting older. And yet I never dabbled in things I should have done many years ago.

Maybe that's why I stumbled upon Billy Butcher. Because he and I are cut on the same fiber of cloth destined for loneliness and sorrow.

I could still remember that day as clear as my deepest hatred for what he's become. I could still remember my days being an honest Federal agent. They were nothing but peaceful. Handing out cases after cases with all of its glory. My life consisted of finishing a mission, drinking a beer at a pub for celebration, and slamming my face on my very, very comfortable king size bed shared with no one else but myself. I never wandered away from my successful life. Never wandered from the comfort of putting the assholes behind bars nor the sweet, sweet sound of justice.

But then, I met him.

He was as kind as he could be the first time we spoke. The English accent far too deep within his gravelly voice, his beard absolutely stuck to his damn face then and now, and his inexplicable love for his then-girlfriend. Like a lion that fell in love with a lamb. They were beyond the cutest it almost made me pondered about having my own. Pondered.

And that's also the very day I accepted a partner.

We were immediately tasked on a mission that's supposed to have killed me then and there—not when he shot the bastard right between his eyes and offered a hand to me. He was smirking, a bit proud of himself that I knew then, he was going to be a very important part of my life. And he was.

Although, not long after treading the treacherous sea of bastards and assholes, after every beers every night, and every third-wheeling on a Spice Girls concert I have done and surprisingly enjoyed in my whole life? Everything went downhill in just a mere blink of an eye.

Butcher lost his job, his grasp in life, and her.

He's the same—yet also very different.

"Alice." Speaking of the devil. "Alice, look at me." He demanded, as though the tone of his voice could coax me into following each and every one of them. Unfortunately for him, I was not a dog.

"At least let me drive you home." He spoke again, this time I was certain he was closer to me than before that I finally turned, arms crossed and eyes as sharp as an eagle. I want it to be known that even if a lot of things had changed—a myriad of things that we could never bring back and do again, I was still not one to be messed with and he was probably shitting himself if he thinks otherwise.

"Why?" I asked, plain and simple.

"'Cause I doubt standing in the dark at midnight is gonna get you a cab." Fair... point. "And why the hell did you think I was not gonna do that?" He stated as though there was a written contract that I'm his responsibility.