𝙂𝙧𝙞𝙩 & 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚| 𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

The morning sun crept over the horizon, spilling golden light through the windows of their small cottage. It was quiet here—peaceful. Birds chirped outside, their melody weaving into the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze. The smell of fresh coffee mingled with the faint scent of wildflowers that Boothill had picked the day before.
Y/N sat in a rocking chair near the window, cradling their newborn daughter against her chest. Her tiny fingers curled into a fist, her breath soft and steady as she slept. Y/N's heart swelled with a love so profound it felt overwhelming.
Boothill entered the room, his steps light, as if afraid to disturb the peaceful moment. He carried a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a bottle of milk in the other. His usual rugged demeanor had softened over the past few weeks, his expression now one of quiet devotion as he looked at the two of them.
"Morning," he said softly, setting the bottle down on the small table beside her.
Y/N smiled up at him, her exhaustion masked by the joy she felt. "Morning. She just fell back asleep."
Boothill knelt beside her, reaching out to gently touch their daughter's tiny hand. "She's perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
"She is," Y/N agreed, her gaze shifting between the baby and Boothill. "We're really doing this, aren't we? A real life. A family."
He looked up at her, his eyes steady. "Yeah. We are. And nothing's going to change that."
The certainty in his voice gave Y/N a sense of peace she hadn't felt in years. For the first time, it felt like they were truly safe, like they had finally left behind the chaos and danger of their past lives.
The rest of the morning passed in a haze of quiet contentment. Boothill took over baby duty for a while, rocking their daughter gently in his arms while Y/N stole a few moments to rest. They were a team, seamlessly navigating the challenges of new parenthood with a shared determination.
As the day wore on, Boothill stepped outside to tend to the small vegetable garden they had started. Y/N watched him from the window, her heart full as she thought about how far they had come. This was everything she had ever wanted—a quiet life, a safe haven for her family.
But as the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows across the cottage, an unease began to settle over her. It was subtle at first—a faint prickling at the back of her neck, a nagging feeling she couldn't shake.
She brushed it off, convincing herself it was just her imagination. They had left the past behind. There was nothing to worry about now.
𝐄𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
In a dark, smoke-filled room, a woman sat alone, her fingers tracing the edge of a worn photograph. It was a picture of her husband, his face weathered but proud. He had been a bounty hunter, a skilled one. But he had made the mistake of crossing Boothill—and now, he was gone.
Her lips curled into a bitter smile as she stared at the image. "You thought you could just kill him and walk away," she muttered, her voice low and venomous. "But no one takes from me and gets away with it."
On the table in front of her lay a map, scattered with notes and photographs. A picture of Boothill and Y/N was pinned to the center, circled in red. She had been watching them, waiting for the right moment.
Her hand hovered over a dagger that had once belonged to her husband. It was old, its blade stained from years of use. She picked it up, the weight of it grounding her.
"They think they're safe," she said, her tone cold and calculated. "But they'll learn soon enough. Boothill will pay for what he's done. And she'll pay for standing by him."
The woman leaned back in her chair, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous determination. The wheels of her plan were already in motion, and there was no turning back now.
𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞
That evening, Y/N and Boothill sat on the porch, their daughter nestled in Y/N's arms. The stars shone brightly above, a blanket of light against the dark sky. Boothill reached out, wrapping an arm around Y/N's shoulders as they watched the world settle into stillness.
"I think we're going to be okay," Y/N said softly, her voice filled with hope.
Boothill pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "We will be," he promised. "No matter what."
But as they sat there, the shadows seemed to stretch a little farther, the night air carrying a chill that hadn't been there before. Somewhere, unseen and unknown to them, danger lurked—a reminder that the past never truly stays buried.
And while their present was filled with love and light, a storm was quietly brewing on the horizon.