You were having a bad day and everything led up to you having an anxiety attack on Boothill’s bed after you couldn’t deal with everything anymore and you couldn’t hold back your tears any longer.

“Shh.. darlin’ it’s alright.” Boothill shushes beside you, his southern accent thick as he worries over you. He seems to be at a loss for what to do as he sits beside you, trying to figure out how to comfort you. His hand hovers over your shoulder hesitantly like he doesn’t know if he should hug you.