love.

what a beautiful thing it is, no?

the feeling of your heart beating a little too quick for your liking. the feeling of your blood running cold at every lingering touches or glances that shouldn't have happened— did i say that out loud?

ah yes.

it wasn't meant to happen, it shouldn't have happened in the first place. the touches, the soft-spoken words only being said to you and you alone, the fleeting glances— the cherished memories.

if you asked the man himself about his first love, he'd only respond with a short sentence. a heart-shattering sentence that one would think is a bit too harsh for the human heart to handle.

'a mistake', is what he would tell anyone who dared try and ask him why he was over love itself.

a phrase that he too would tell himself in front of the mirror as the seasons change.

from winter, to spring, to summer, to winter all over again.

boothill has lost track of how many summers he had spent waiting under the worn-down waiting shed next to the bus stop, ignoring how his sweat drenched his shirt from the blistering heat as he patiently waited for someone to come back.

if he had the option to, he wouldn't dare move out of his spot no matter the season. the man wanted to be the first one to greet her when she arrives, to wrap her in his arms and relish in her warmth that he had long forgotten.

but no matter how cold or warm it got, if the leaves were green or brown, if the children had grown older and were now learning how to become the next sheriff in town— she never showed up.

it felt like he was brought back to his youth.

being all clueless and stupidly clinging onto the hope that his mother would return and bring him with her to wherever she was. that when a person leaves, it'll only be temporary— because who would dare leave someone they promised to come back to?

penaconians, apparently.

the familiar feeling of abandonment seemed to creep up on him every summer time, being the stark reminder that he wasn't worth it— he wasn't worth going back to, he wasn't worth the journey for.

that he wasn't meant to be loved in any other way.

but that didn't mean that he wasn't allowed to love anymore, no.

for some stupid reason, no matter how much he had lied to everyone in town that he had moved on and stopped hoping for a certain (h/c) haired girl to show up— his heart is inevitably still beating for her.

after all, he was starved of affection from a very young age, he didn't know the limitations of his own feelings— never knowing just how stubborn the human heart is when it comes to things such as romance.

it didn't matter if it was summer or not, because he still loves her no matter the season. no matter how shattered and torn he is, just like how his father feels for his mother, he is in excruciating pain— the price he had to pay to keep loving the girl who brought him warmth that the sun is unable to give him.

love truly does make the sanest of man go insane.

as does how the heart keeps on beating no matter how many pieces it got shattered to.

this year's summer season wasn't isn't unbearable as the last. the sun wasn't isn't harsh on the land, and even the harvests are blooming ever so abundantly. the population of the town has gone up throughout the years, with people from other cities and provinces come by to settle into the quiet countryside life.

with boothill becoming the new sheriff in town after his father had retired, he's been busy doing his duty as the town's head and safe-keeper.

he has grown from an angsty early-twenties man to one who now understands the weight of his responsibilities. and he's been doing a great job in maintaining the peace of his beloved aergan-epharshel in line. and now that he's become a man who everyone looks up to and entrusts their life to, he doesn't have the time on dwelling over a summer love.

or so he thought.

"boothill, new folks jus' arrived." stan yawned as he entered the sheriff's office, rubbing his eyes as the sleep-deprived man stood by the door.

his entrance caused boothill to look up from his desk, snapping out of his reverie from the sound of his colleague's voice. carmine eyes landed on the man, a hum reverberating against his chest as he nodded in response.

"send emma over to greet 'em. i didn't appoint 'er as this town's tour guide fer nothin'." he spoke, voice low and raspy as he stood up from his chair, opting to sit on the edge of his desk while stan nodded, walking out of the door with another yawn leaving past his lips.

boothill chuckled to himself a bit, reminding himself to reward stan with a day or two off from work as he remembered how easily tired the man gets being his right-hand man.

the room returned to its quiet state, allowing his mind to be flooded with thoughts and memories that he wanted erased from his brain. his eyes glanced out the window, watching the greyhound pull up to the bus stop as people started flooding out of the vehicle. the man saw families waiting under the waiting shed, sending a cold feeling in him as he was reminded that he too was once one of the people who waited for their loved one to get off the greyhound bus.

something in his mind resurfaced at the sight of families reuniting, tourists looking around as they see the beauty of aergan-epharshel for the first time— just like how y/n was when she first came to town.

the bitter taste of not being chosen sits on the tip of his tongue like a venom— a pill that begs for him to swallow and accept that he, yes he, the infamous and courageous boothill will never be anyone's top priority.

maybe one day, he'll find the courage to stop waiting underneath his imaginary waiting shed in hopes that he'll finally hear her voice one last time. to feel her hands on his, to see the smile on her face that would always appear in his dreams.

but until then, he'll keep on hoping.

a fearless cowboy that actually fears that the person whom he dedicated his own heart for won't ever return is something that is unheard of.

boothill tuned out the noise from the outside world, welcoming in the comforting presence of silence as he glanced away from the window and stared into nothingness, feeling his mind leave his body and wander off to a world where he would proudly call her his.

a knock on the door resonated around his office, snapping him yet again to reality as the door opened, followed by the smell of peonies and emma's ever-so chirpy voice.

he looked up and gave the woman a half-hearted smile, urging her to state her business and wishing that she'd tell him what she wants so that he can return to his little mindscape centered around the one and only y/n l/n.

the woman seemed to be oblivious to the state that he got himself in, walking inside the office as her boots softly clinked on the wooden floor. she looked happier than usual— brighter than the sun could ever be. it makes him wonder how stan, a man of few words and would choose sleeping over anyone, managed to marry a woman as bright as her.

"boothill, one of the tourists wanted to ask ya about somethin'. got time to entertain one?"

her words sparked curiosity inside the man, tilting his head to the side a little as his left hand came up to his head to adjust his hat. it was odd for tourists to ask him directly about something as of recent since he had emma to do the job for him in that part, and he would be lying if he said he liked answering obvious questions for tourists.

"emma, ain't that yer—"

"i promise ya it ain't gonna waste yer time." emma insisted, further spiking his curiosity as he let out a defeated sigh.

with a wave of his hand, he gave her his non-verbal agreement which caused the woman to let out a small, excited squeal. boothill raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and breathing heavily as he mentally prepared himself for getting bombarded with questions.

he should've fought his old man when he was given the title of sheriff.

he didn't open his eyes when the door opened once more, nor did he catch the excited humming of emma as the person walked into the office. he didn't raise his head when the air around the room turned warmer, until he was hit with the familiar scent of (your favorite scent).

it was as if nostalgia had punched him right in the gut, making him feel queasy and uneasy as he didn't dare to look up— not even when his entire body was begging him to.

memories of the summer from years ago resurfaced, and all his thoughts were about y/n.

how foolish of him to think that he can label her as a mere summer crush.

boothill slowly raised his head, letting his hand fall to his lap as carmine eyes stared back onto (e/c) ones, air leaving his lungs as he sat there stunned.

the world seemed to have stopped spinning, everyone around him seemed too irrelevant for him to care. he could feel himself letting out a shaky breath, his heart clenching painfully against his chest.

there was a small smile on her face the moment their eyes met, removing the graduation cap from her head as a chuckle left past her lips that managed to send boothill to heaven and back.

the woman in front of him, although looking more matured now, was the same dumb girl that he fell in love with.

"got any more room in this town for another city girl, cowboy?"

fin.