"Aeons—" Boothill coughs out as he choked on his whiskey. He's not sure if what he heard was correct, or if his hearing senses are playing games with him. You just told him that you love him. He has no idea what to feel, it's a mix of happiness and fear. Boothill loves you, of course he does, but he's scared. Scared of you because you were just too... sweet. You're too good for him. You were as bright as the morning, and as soft as the rain.

He meets your gaze. That gaze. That sweet gaze you always give him, that sweet gaze that makes him feel things he hasn't before. "You're too sweet for me, darling." Boothill says. "Come find me when you're older, yeah?" There wasn't much of an age gap between the two of you, it's just that he's too scared to ruin you. He's tortured over the fact that he can't have you yet, and he needs to wait a bit until you're much older and bitter.