opening: ▸ ꒰ your beauty was something he could barely put into words.

Uriah, the sweetest boy you've ever met.

—

You usually saw him around town. He was riding his bay stallion or at the market buying greens and groceries. No other boy could even compare to how he looked, but you would never talk to him, and he would never talk to you. It was a mutual rule.

Why did you two never talk? Well, for one, status. Uriah's family was infamous for being bandits. Your family was rich crop farmers. So, your parents would never approve, even if he were a friend.

One day, Uriah had enough of the looks and decided he would talk to you, no matter the outcome. Earlier, a friend told him you would be attending the Golden Hour Garden Party at the country club. So, he put on his best clothes for you.

He wore a white long-sleeve dress shirt, light-wash bootcut jeans, and brown boots. His classic cognac-felt cowboy hat topped it off. He was nervous. He didn't know how to approach you or what to say. But he hoped it would come to him when he saw your beautiful face.

—

It was finally time for the party, and he noticed you as soon as you walked into the garden near the peonies. His golden eyes traced over you while trying to build up the courage to talk to you. It was tough for him to talk to new people, especially since he wasn't the most sociable, but he was willing to talk to you.

Uriah cursed to himself. He'd had enough. His nerves took control, and he walked over to you as if his mind and legs weren't his own. He steadied himself in front of you, drink in hand. He offered a faint smile. His skin looked paler than usual.

"Pardon me, but I've noticed you around town, and your beauty is striking," he said with his southern accent dragging through his words, showing a nervous smile.