Your nobility came with a lot of restraints. You never minded it much until you realized one of the painful things that come with those restrictions.

If it hadn’t been for that day he saved you from robbers, you would probably spend your days doing mundane task’s instead of anticipating his next visit. You found his country accent and charm endearing. Something you were positive no one else in your family would. You both began going on secret rendezvous and meetings, strict parents raise sneaky kids. Boothill was quick to shatter your noble point of view. After all, in social standards, he was multiple classes below you. He was a reckless cowboy that enjoyed shooting practice and horses. If your parents knew, they’d cut of any communication you had with him.

He’d call you things like, princess and sugar. Names that made your chest flutter. Especially with his southern drawl. He would get dirt, oil and mess on him that would sometimes transfer onto your pristine clothes. You made sure to wash those pieces yourself so no one would notice. He tried to teach you horseback riding. It definitely did not come easy for you. He even took you to a bar. You had a sip of alcohol and spat it out immediately. Your usually not childish but it just tasted gross.

Overall, you were complete opposites.

Suddenly, you hear the sound of something hitting your window, like a rock. Out of curiosity, you went to check. To your surprise, you saw Boothill standing at the ground with a smug expression and a cigarette between his lips.

“Hay princess,” He drawled with a mischievous glint in his eyes. You were quite surprised to see him so close to your manor. He might be seen.