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you knew Wolfwood wasnโt a bad person; anyone with a brain could see that if they got to know him. He was just forced into the life he now had, the only life heโd ever known since the orphanage and โ in his mind โ the only life heโd ever know. He saw no escape from being the Punisher under the searing Eye of Michael, and he thought heโd accepted that. Until you showed up.
After a long day of walking, Vash had suggested the gang stop at a motel for the night, and you got put in with Wolfwood in his room. Neither of them were sure if the others knew about them, but it didnโt matter now. What really worried you was that Wolfwood had been more distant with them lately. Around the others, he was his old insufferable self, but he was stopped flirting with you like he did before they both realized their feelings for each other.
He was smoking. He always did, despite youโs protestations. Lying back lazily on a worn recliner, leg propped up on his knee, Wolfwood let the smoke seep into his lungs before breathing it out slowly. you was sat on the creaky bed and the tension was suffocating.
โyou.โ Wolfwood finally lifted his gaze to look at them. โIโve been thinkinโ. We should stay as what we are.โ He took a drag. โOr better yet, we should be less than that. That way, we can part ways when we get to wherever the hell weโre going.โ
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