𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. - 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥 {✓}

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭.

a/n: im sorry i starved y'all! pls forgive me i love u pookies

in the small town of aergan-epharshel, there won't be a day where the sun doesn't beat down on the lush fields of forest green grass. the heat was something that all locals had grown accustomed to- something that they wholeheartedly love in terms of having bountiful harvests all year long. 

it is something that fills someone with warmth, surging through their veins as if the sun was their god's way of embracing them and telling them how much the heavens love their land. the type of heat that makes one feel loved and nurtured- the type that gets the body going.

in the case of boothill, it reminds him of an embrace he's yearning to have.

carmine eyes looked up through the rim of his hat, narrowing at the sight of the blazing ball of fire as he sat on the steps of the sheriff's office. boothill had just finished a job, using his rare break hours to contemplate on life like any person who's about to push mid-twenties. 

despite the thin, airy layers of his clothing- the man still feels the burning warmth from the sun above, lips thinned and curved to a small frown. he clicked his tongue in mild frustration, looking back down at his folded hands that rested on his lap as his mind worked overtime. 

he doesn't know what's gotten to him lately. 

boothill often catches his mind wandering to a certain (h/c) haired girl that was supposed to be locked up in the back of his mind- someone who he shouldn't be distracted over. be it carrying straws of hay, rounding cattle, or helping his dad catch petty thieves- his mind seemed to have the time to think about the city girl whom he caught his heart falling for. 

it's useless, is what he likes to tell himself. 

liking someone who's meant to live miles away from you is like begging the gods to smite you then and there- a tempting sin that even the most devoted of followers are itching to commit. it's similar to drugs, it's addicting- it's not good for you. 

the thought of bearing your heart knowing that once you do, the person it solely beats for will take it with them- far from home, far from you. it's the type of love that shouldn't be even considered love. 

it hurts.

it will undoubtedly break someone in two. 

 which is why boothill had his thoughts everywhere all at once, unable to grasp the heart-shattering reality of his feelings that seemed to have gotten deeper than he had expected. after all, what's the use of confessing when y/n isn't meant to be here in the first place? 

meeting her was by chance, a strike of luck that he hasn't gotten in a while. 

loving her was fate- a predetermined reality that was paved by the gods themselves. 

however, boothill isn't religious. he could care less if the gods gave him someone to finally give his heart to. to him, it was nothing but cruel- to give him someone that wasn't close to him. he is a cautious man, albeit reckless in ways more than one. nevertheless, he isn't going to carelessly let his heart drive off where he can't see. 

yet the underlying thought of 'what if' nagged his conscience. what's there to lose anyway? pride? he has more than enough of that from the moment he was born. self-esteem? that never existed in his being for a long time. 

the man hadn't got a clue. 

what was he so scared about? 

the answer to that is very simple, actually- something that he himself refuses to admit.