𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. - 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥

𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧

DOUBLE UPDATE BC I LOVE Y'ALL

the noise buzzing around them wasn't at all distracting to a man such as boothill, no.

it was the mere fact that sitting a few tables away from his hosts the girl who continues to plague his mind like a winding nightmare.

both boothill and y/n didn't share a word after seeing each other at the front of the pub- the girl being dragged away by emma whilst ricky calling back the man after john decided to puke on a poor lad.

and now that both of them are in the same place, at the same time, his thoughts from a while back loops in the back of his head like a broken record.

what's a girl like her doing at a place like this?

or, as boothill itches to ask all those weeks back- what's a girl like her hanging out with a guy like him?

if it's out of pity, then he doesn't need it. if it's from boredom, then he'd at least understand- but does that mean he's nothing more than a boy who's used to pass time with?

he doesn't know, nor does he want to.

and for the love of all aeons, john needs to shut up about his insecurities lest he himself will wallow in his own miseries.

"ain't that the infamous city girl? well i'll be darned, she's as pretty as a peach." ricky piped up, a slow whistle reverberating in his throat as his eyes landed on the (h/c) haired girl that's being surrounded with empty pint glasses from herself.

"didn't take 'er as someone who'd enjoy homemade moonshine, much less someone willing to be 'ere with the likes of us."

boothill stayed quiet, eyeing y/n from his spot as he forced back a grin after seeing another fella getting rejected by her.

it's a strange scenario to watch, if he's being honest. a lovely girl who looked too elegant to step on dirt, is now in this small pub downing down rum like a cowboy. he's quite surprised too that she's able to carry herself with all the liquor she just downed.

it didn't go unnoticed to him that even under the dim light from the fluorescent bulb of the place, her face was starting to flush a shade of red- her eyes starting to go downturned as emma and stan beside her continued to have their own little game of who can stay sober the longest.

she seems to be having fun, that's for sure.

in her own definition of fun (which was getting blasted in a club), it seems as if alcohol was her only companion for tonight.

"she's dumb, so dumb that she could throw 'erself on the ground and miss." the dual hair-colored male said, finishing up his nth glass for the night as he watched another guy get turned down by the city girl.

city folks really are ruthless.

"jus' look at 'er, beggin' for the worst hangover of 'er life."

it doesn't take a scientist and a mathematician to figure out that having six pints of rum and moonshine is more than enough to send you up to heaven.

metaphorically, that is. unless you're dumb.

so it's to no one's surprise to see her rest her head on the table, hand holding onto her half empty glass while the other acts as a cushion underneath her.

on any other occassions, boothill would escort out a woman who's too drunk to handle herself even with companions.

but for some reason, he wanted to tease her just an intsy bit.

leaving behind a confused ricky and a sleeping john, the man walked up to her table- clad in his usual outfit with his gun holsters and all. the medals on his chest pocket clinked with each step, and not even emma questioned him the moment he took a seat beside the dazed out girl.