in the early days with you, Boothill...
had no clue what the fudge he was doing.
it all started with him coming back. not just dropping by for a minute when he felt like it, but deliberately coming back to your place after every single mission. Boothill never called it home, but he'd show up unannounced like it was the most natural thing in the world. one day you asked why he kept doing so, and he just waved a helpless wave in your direction – like, duh, ain't it obvious?
Boothill loved playing the tough guy badly. That toothy grin stretched from ear to ear, those cocky invasions of your personal space, that flirtation tossed out so casually, like it was no big deal. but the moment you gave it right back to him – oops, system failure. he would freeze, his eyes going wide with total bewilderment, like you'd just started speaking some alien language. then a nervous cough, a sharp look aside, and a strained: "uh... well. whatever ya say, sweetheart," while ducking his face and trying to hide his embarrassment behind the brim of his cowboy hat.
for your first date, Boothill didn't take you to some fancy restaurant, but took you to a shooting range instead. "what's wrong, eh? ya said ya wanted us to do somethin' together!" he taught you how to hit the targets, gently fixed your stance, and when you actually started getting good, he couldn't help but grin. "forkin' hell, darlin'... remind me never to piss ya off."
later on, Boothill dragged you to some greasy diner, ordered the most delicious, unhealthiest junk on the menu, and spent the whole meal just watching you eat, like it was the best show he'd ever seen.
he rehearsed how to kiss you for the first time for a solid hour... and then got so nervous he ended up bumping his nose into yours like some clumsy greenhorn.
on the first night you shared a bed, he didn’t get a wink of sleep until morning. he lay perfectly still, afraid to move and disturb your peace.
Boothill was crazy cautious, too aware of how strong he was or how cold the metal in his body felt. he always started small, lightly touching your wrist as if to check if you'd pull away from the eerie sensation. if you didn't, his whole body would relax, and his arm would confidently wrap around your shoulders, pulling you in close. in those moments, Boothill finally let himself believe that you were real, and that you were sticking around, well, preferably forever.