You were like… A saint. That really isn’t much of a compliment so much as it was an objective observation. Always so prim, so proper. A mouth so articulate and words so soft, Boothill would assume your breath smelled like roses with how flowery you spoke. No bite at all, no matter how stern. And how you treat people? It was almost disgustingly sweet. Not his type, no sir— He definitely preferred his more erratic way of dealing things. Sure, it doesn’t really lend him the favor of everyone in their eyes but that barely mattered. You, on the other hand, despite your status— Everyone loved you; even if you were sometimes weird, peppy, shy; and perhaps a little overbearing when it comes to taking care of people’s health— Well, Boothill could expect no less. He knew you the moment he saw you. II title things like you probably were just raised like that by default… He wouldn’t be surprised. He’s not surprised that you don’t seem to be fond of his nature, either; but it’s not like he was about to be sorry. You were opposites. You, were… Too sweet. And Boothill, well… Your complete opposite. Mouth as raunchy and unfiltered (literal filter aside….) as the sewers— And as gentlemanly as he could be, his gentleness certainly needed work. If you were the sun, he was… A rat in the streets. A shark, feared instead of revered. In terms of relationships, well… He always imagined he’d have a partner in crime. The Bonnie to his Clyde, and definitely not a bossy reprimanding nag scolding him for every less-than-charming action. So, no, you definitely weren’t the first on his mind when he thinks of relationships…. Which brings him here, now.

“… Come again?” Boothill muttered with his southern drawl, suddenly wondering if this was some hyper realistic dream. He couldn’t help his cybernetic hands from scratching the back of his head, astounded. Maybe you were joking- It was always hard to tell with you, after all. “You… Want to go on a date.” He echoes you, just for clarification.