𝐏𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐬 ━━ 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥

ꜰᴏᴜʀᴛᴇᴇɴ

chapter fourteen — home again

The drive to Aeragan was quieter than it had been the first time.

Y/N didn't play music. Didn't call anyone. She didn't even open the iced coffee she'd bought out of habit before leaving the city. It sat untouched in the cup holder, sweating in silence as the buildings faded behind her and the fields returned.

The shark hoodie from the store window sat folded in the passenger seat. She'd driven five minutes out of the city before turning around, going to the boutique, and buying it. It wasn't rational—she didn't even like sharks all that much—but something about its ridiculous grin called to her.

Boothill would probably make some joke about how ridiculous it was—buying a hoodie because it reminded her of him. But he'd smile while he said it. Or... he would have, had she not absolutely fucked up.

The thought sank like a stone in her stomach.

By the time she reached Aeragan, the golden-hazed sky had given way to thick clouds, and the familiar streets greeted her like a town half-asleep. It felt quieter than usual. Or maybe it was just her nerves filling in the gaps between every sound.

She parked in front of the B&B and hesitated before stepping out. The little place looked exactly the same—wicker chairs on the porch, wind chimes whispering in the breeze, ivy crawling up the railings. She couldn't believe she'd almost traded it for another year of pretending she was happy in a city apartment that never really felt like home.

The bell above the door jingled as she stepped inside.

Betty looked up from behind the counter, smiling with that warm, eagle-eyed gaze of hers.

"Well, look who the wind dragged back," she said, not unkindly. "I thought you'd be in Penacony another few days."

Y/N shifted her weight. "Yeah, plans changed. I was wondering if my room was ready yet?"

Betty tapped her keyboard and squinted at the screen. "Should be another day or two, maybe three if the plumber's as slow as he was last time."

"Oh." Y/N nodded, hiding her disappointment.

Betty looked up, softening. "Sometimes we gotta leave a place to realize where we belong."

The words landed with more weight than they probably should have, like Betty had no idea how spot-on she was.

"Thanks," Y/N murmured and turned to go.

Outside, she leaned against her car and pulled out her phone. No texts. No missed calls. She stared at her background photo—just some clouds from a flight months ago—and locked it again.

She debated calling Boothill. Just to ask if she could stay in the loft. But she hadn't even apologized yet. Hadn't said a damn word to him since he left her alone outside that club.

She leaned her forehead against the car door with a quiet thunk.

"God, you're such a fucking idiot," she muttered.