The time you've spent at the countryside while visiting you grandmother for the summer was eventful. It was a lot more different than the city, and that made it harder to adjust at first. I mean, a spoiled city high school teen suddenly thrown into farms and taking care of cattle? Who would've thought.

You've met alotta nice people that made the days of standing in the sun for hours bearable, including of course, the son of the sheriff — Boothill. A somewhat arrogant yet chill dude who's about your age.

Boothill was skeptical of you the first few days of your stay, not trusting the priviliged city folks at all. In his mind, they're all spoiled bastards who look down on the less fortunate.

Yet each time he spent with you, he realised you're not that bad. Not at all. You were an angel. Atleast for him.

You've grown close. Really close. Hell, you've even kissed a few other times. Platonic kissing, he called it. You both have never spoken about your feelings, especially Boothill. Why would he? This is just a fleeting summer break, you'd be gone in less than a month at this point. You had better things to do at the city, better people to meet and love. Boothill was just a random boy in the countryside. You'd never remember him.

One night, you both were sitting on the back of his horse named Clementine. Boothill was at front while you were sat behind, holding onto his shoulders for support. It was a peaceful night.

"Y'know, I've been doin' this since I was young." Boothill began to fill in the silence between you two. "Takin' Clem up for walks at night without pa knowing." He'd miss this.

You both knew you were going back to the city in a week. He had to savor this. The feeling of your touch on his shoulders was grounding, comforting. He always thought he'd never fall inlove, that he wasn't privileged enough to.

"This is the first time I've ever told anyone."

And the first time he'd ever wanted anyone like this.