#boothilll x reader

[strwberri-milk]

Songs of Sorrow - Ch. 9

Rancher!AU || Boothill x Fem!Reader || Slowburn, Drama

Dinner is awkward, to say the least. 

The two of you were sitting alone, the others already having taken their share home. Boothill insisted that you sit with him to have dinner, mumbling something about wanting to speak to you about something important. Your heart nearly stopped in your chest, not sure what it could have been that he needed to discuss with you. 

Maybe you overstepped his boundaries by cooking for him this morning. Was breakfast maybe some sacred meal? Or perhaps you hadn’t made enough for the others and he was insulted on their behalf and somehow now taking it out on you. You never thought he would have been somebody like that before now but you suppose you’d learn at some point the true personality he has. 

Or worse, he knew you were staring at him this morning. The sight of his body refused to leave your mind all day, unable to swallow the urge to watch him work through the window. You knew now the cords of muscle that existed under the flannel he wore, the path his sweat would take as it trailed down his body. You’d never found yourself lusting after someone this badly before and you know that you have to stop yourself from letting your fantasies go too far, knowing that this was a very serious discussion. 

You would understand if he was kicking you out. Maybe you’d overstayed your welcome, he thought that you would have been out of his hair by now but somehow you’re still here when you’re not supposed to be. You can barely eat, stomach in knots as you push around the pasta you made for dinner. 

“You…are aware that you were kidnapped,” he starts, the observation something that would make you laugh if your life didn’t literally hang in the balance in this moment. 

“I…am indeed aware that happened,” you repeat. 

“Then you are aware that the town is unsafe.” 

“I am.” 

The sound of cutlery scraping against the plates screeches out between the two of you and you wince at how sharp it is. Boothill flinches as well, putting down his knife and fork as he decides to just get on with it. 

“Look,” he sighs, putting his palms on the table as he looks at you. 

“I just heard there’s a bounty on your head. A pretty one too. If you’re caught out I can’t promise ya won’t be hurt.” 

The words send a chill down your spine as you stare at him. 

“What?” 

“You heard me right. Your life’s at risk. I was able to ask around when I was in town today but everyone’s lookin’ for you. You’re wanted alive and unharmed, which is good for you, but that doesn’t dismiss the fact that you are wanted.” 

“Alright, so when am I leaving?” 

He doesn’t reply right away and you avert his gaze. You don’t want to pressure him into letting you stay out of pity - he’s already been kind enough to take you in for this long. 

“You aren’t.”

You look up at him with confusion. 

“I’m not?” 

“No. You aren’t leaving. I wouldn’t feel good knowing it’s my fault you got hurt because you will get hurt.” 

The succinct manner in which he states the fact makes you wince, knowing he’s right but also not wanting to hear it said to you like that. You’re at a total loss of words, staring at him as you try to figure out what he wants from you instead. 

“That doesn’t help. Besides, didn’t you say they don’t want me hurt?” you mutter, leaning against the back of your chair. 

“It wasn’t meant to. It’s me remindin’ you of the situation you ended up in. And just because they don’t want you to be hurt doesn’t mean someone won’t hurt you and say it was necessary in grabbin’ ya. Think about it - d’ya really think Sampo’s going to care?” 

You huff, knowing he has a good point. Sampo would just delay your return to the spotlight. Bruises and cuts could heal after all. That, or you’d be given a more extensive makeup routine that would cover up any marks and bruises. 

“I didn’t ask for this you know,” you bite back, suddenly getting the feeling that he’s blaming you. 

“You could have just left me when you saw me. Why did you even come back anyway?” you spit. 

“Hey, hey, hey don’t be like that,” he coos, taking on that tone you’ve heard him use from afar on an ornery cow. 

“That’s not it at all. I think you’re misunderstandin’ me - I - look.” 

You look back at him, crossing your arms as you try to figure out how he’s going to dig himself out of the hole he was happily crawling into. 

“Clearly, you’re stubborn. You don’t wanna listen to me, and you wanna make things difficult. That’s alright, I understand and respect it,” he smirks. 

“However, I ain’t gonna letcha get yourself hurt. You’re going to stay here until things blow over. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“At this rate I’m going to live with you forever,” you mumble under your breath. 

“Don’t act like that’s such an awful possibility,” he laughs, enjoying this more than you think he should. 

“You won’t even let me pay rent. Are you going to at least let me work for my room and board?” 

The idea of owing him something makes you want to throw up. You know that it’s not because it’s him but just the sheer fact that you’ve gone from one debt to another. If he continues to push back on you cooking and cleaning you worry that he’ll get sick of you freeloading one day. When that day comes you won’t have anything to show for yourself, forced to be tossed onto the street or pay off your debt to him in some way he sees fit. 

“You clearly aren’t made for ranch work,” he muses, holding his chin as he thinks. 

“There’s no way I can force you to relax, is there?” he finally laments, eyeing you with an amused fatigue. 

“I refuse to be in debt to you,” you say curtly, hands balled up in your lap. 

His smile falls, realising why you’re so insistent on making sure he’s paid. You keep his gaze, steeling yourself for what you expect to be another argument. You don’t want to go around in circles again but you know you will if you need to.

“I will work for room and board. If I can’t go into town I can’t work, and if I can’t work I can’t pay you rent. Just…just let me do that much, please,” you plead. 

“You don’t have to cook for everybody,” he relents. 

“If you’re absolutely insistent on this you only need to cook for me. You can clean the house if you want, and if you’re going to continue to be stubborn I’ll let you clean the stalls for extra money.”

You feel your body slump in relief, finally glad that he’ll let you do something. 

“Thank you. I know you weren’t looking to hire anybody so if you don’t have the funds then you don’t need to pay me.”

“Don’t misunderstand, I have the money. I just wasn’t looking to force ya to work for me. It can be tirin’ and if you ain’t used to it you’ll end up makin’ more work.” 

You nod in understanding, still relieved at the turn of events. 

“However, I won’t let you be on the grounds without me.” 

“What?!” 

You stand up, almost knocking over the chair in your outburst. 

“It’s not safe. The land is large, sure, but if someone sees you and I’m not there, who's gonna protect ya, huh?” 

“I’m not a child!” 

“This ain’t somethin’ I’m budgin’ on. You’re going to be escorted by myself personally. I don’t care how nice the boys are to you, or how nice the day is. If you wanna go anywhere outside you’re gonna text me and I’ll take you.”

You’re about to open your mouth to argue with him again when something in the look of his eyes stops you. He was relaxed with you, not seeming to want to sway one way or another but within moments he’s become a daunting figure, cold eyes daring you to challenge him. You swallow your words and pride, sitting back down on the chair and taking a bite of the now cold food. 

“So what? Are you going to tell the others that I don’t exist?” you finally manage, despair swallowing you up again. 

“I trust them with my life. I wouldn’t hire them if I didn’t. You’re allowed to be around them no problem - that’s why I haven’t said nothin’ ‘til now. I just don’t want you to find yourself on the other side of the pastures where I can’t hear ya.”

He softens up a little, nudging your foot with his as he persuades you to look back up at him. 

“Darlin’, please don’t be mad at me. I just don’t want nothin’ bad to happen to ya. That night in the alley should have been the happiest moment of your life in a while but you ended up hurt.” 

You can’t help the way tears begin to well up in your eyes. He’s trying his best to be kind, trying to support you in the only way he thinks you need but it doesn’t sate the longing ache that sits deep in your belly. 

Your eyes train themselves on the carpet, appetite no longer there. You see movement out of the corner of your eye and suddenly a third hand joins your lap, pulling both your hands as Boothill clasps your hands in his. 

“‘M sorry for the way I said it. I know you don’t want this and I don’t wanna keep you trapped in here either. You have to understand that all I want is for you to be okay. When I went into town everybody was conspirin’ one way or another to try and get you and your bounty. Ten grand ain’t somethin’ to laugh at.” 

Your eyes widen at the price tag attached to you. You had no idea Sampo thought you were worth that much. If he truly thought that, there was no way he’d let you out of his grasp if he caught you. Now, the thought of Boothill being at your side doesn’t seem as awful. 

“How’re you gonna protect me? Sick the dogs on them? See if they’ll herd them to death?” you laugh through the tears, liking the way your hands feel in his. 

“Not to brag but I’m a pretty good shot,” he grins, mimicking the sound of a gun as he stands back up. 

“You’d take someone out for me?” you ask, unsure if you should be aghast or flattered. You decide to pick the latter, feeling your face heat up. 

“I’d do anything for you.” 

He looks at you intently, a look in his eyes you can’t read. You feel your heart skip a beat as his hands tighten around yours. You feel like he’s trying to convince you of the weight of his words through his grip on your hands but you don’t think he needs to. The sheer conviction in his voice and the way the mood fell somber over the two of you is evidence enough, making you chuckle nervously. 

You remove his hands from yours and he seems to snap out of it, an easy smile making its way back to your face. 

“I mean it though,” he chuckles, walking back to his side of the table. 

“I’d do anything for you. If I have to take out a couple people then so be it.” 

He says the words so casually you feel your heart flutter in your chest again. 

“If you keep saying things like that I’ll think you’re in love with me,” you laugh in response, finally sitting down and enjoying your meal with him. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧───  ｡ﾟ☆ *.☽ .*☆｡ﾟ ──��✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Your words taunt him.

He lays in bed and stares up at the ceiling as the words you said to him over the dinner table. 

You’d think he’s in love with you. 

Is he? 

He thinks about it for a second, trying to understand what it means to be in love with someone. He knows he’s loved before and been loved before, but of course the love of his family is nothing like the romantic love that you’re clearly referring to. 

This is the second time he’s heard those words slip from your lips. The first time you told him you’d fall in love with him if he wasn’t careful. 

He doesn’t think he’d mind that. 

He’s seen people be in love with you, or at least be infatuated. They’d come to your shows and try their best to get your attention. Whenever they did they would talk about it until their tongue fell off, recounting the moment as though they met with a deity. 

He thinks he’d rather have an hour of your time than meet a God though. 

They’d come to your shows all dressed in their finest, hoping to catch your glance. When you left the stage oftentimes they’d leave as well, saying that they no longer had any other reason to be there. 

Oh. That’s what he did. 

He screws his eyes shut, conjuring up the image of you in his head. The curve of your cheeks, the shape of your lips, the way you looked that morning he went to see you. Immediately he feels the heat of your body against his palm again, pressing it to his own cheek to try and will the sensation to be more than just a phantom of his memory. 

He’d kill for you, he knows that. He wants to protect you and is sure he can do it without batting an eye. Would he kill for anyone else? Probably, but he doesn’t think that a desperate need to ensure their safety, that fear he felt when he realized that people are actively on the hunt for you would resurface. 

He knows he’s got a penance for using pet names - primarily disparagingly - on people but when he calls you those sweet titles he means it. He’s got a plethora of them for you, much more than the small array he gives you. And he means every single one of them. 

The clock ticks in his room, reminding him of all the sleep he’s not getting and he decides to go do something about it. He heads outside, making sure that the doors are locked and his security system is armed - he never used it before but now with you there he made sure it was in top condition. He makes it down the path, losing track of time when he sees a figure up ahead, also seemingly taking a walk. He recognizes him immediately, smiling and giving a low whistle. 

“Well if it isn’t my favourite chicken farmer. Dan Heng, what are you doing out here this late?” 

“Taking a walk,” he says brusquely, seeming to want to continue just walking right past Boothill but deciding to stop regardless. 

“You must be in a mood if you’re out this close to sunrise. Are you going to pull an all-nighter?” Dan Heng asks.

“If I sleep in I sleep in. The rest of ‘em can handle themselves for a day I think,” he sighs, blowing smoke from his cigarette unfortunately directly into Dan Heng’s face. The other man is polite enough to muffle his cough, side stepping the rancher. 

Boothill suddenly gets the bright idea to ask one of the few people he thinks of as a friend about the current predicament plaguing him, resting a hand on his hip as he tries to put the words together. 

“Dan Heng, have you ever been in love?” 

His eyes widen and he blinks at Boothill before raising a brow. 

“If you’re about to confess to me I’m going to tell you I’m flattered but I’m not interested in you.” 

Boothill laughs in response, shaking his head. 

“While I’d be a lucky man to have you on my arm, that's not quite what I’m getting at,” he clarifies, clearing his throat. 

”This is about her isn’t it?” Dan Heng asks accusingly. 

Boothill feels himself sober up at Dan Heng’s insinuation, narrowing his eyes at him. 

“I don’t know what you think you know but-”

“I’ve seen the way you talk about her when you returned from one of her shows. Not to mention that, hypothetically, I would imagine living in close proximity to someone you’ve begun developing feelings for would make things escalate,” he says bluntly, not wanting to spare Boothill’s feelings or feed into his delusions. 

Boothill stays silent, crossing his arms as he tries to assess whether or not Dan Heng is a threat to your safety. 

“Did she say something to you?” he asks instead, wondering if Dan Heng just went to a show without telling him. 

“Nothing like that. I just think it’s obvious the way you act that you have something going on.” 

Dan Heng’s pragmatic personality really shines through in this moment to the rancher, glad that he’s not sugar coating anything. 

“I didn’t realize I was that obvious,” he says instead, trying to figure out what signs Dan Heng was interpreting from the supposed way he acts around you. 

“That morning I saw the two of you on the deck was more than enough for me,” Dan Heng continues. 

“You looked at her like she was your world. It’s too bad she had to leave,” he says pointedly, emphasising the leave part. 

Boothill stays silent, understanding that Dan Heng knew that you were still living with him. He assumes that the other man is choosing his words carefully just in case someone happens to be listening and he’s thankful for it. 

“I’m going home now. Don’t do anything stupid,” Dan Heng warns before disappearing into the darkness. 

Boothill stands alone on the dirt path for a second, shaking his head as he laughs at himself. 

Of course he’s in love with you. He’s been in love with you from the moment you opened that pretty mouth of yours to speak to him. You had him wrapped around a finger and were clearly none the wiser to the fact, but he doesn’t mind at all. 

It all seems so obvious now that someone else has spelled it out for him. He can’t help but find the situation ridiculous, mind filling up with thoughts of you again. 

He loves you. And there’s absolutely nothing he’s going to do about it. 

[angelltheninth]

Can I request headcanons for Boothill reacting to his shy gn s/o giving him a quick peck on the lips?

I would kiss him all the time, to hell with the sharp teeth.

Pairing: Boothilll x Reader

Tags: fluff, teasing, sudden kiss, banter, quick kisses, flirty Boothill, shy Reader

A/N: Ahem... I like cowboys okay?

Used to being the one to initiate kisses

Alone or in front of a crowd he has no shame showing affection for you

Likes to make you blush but if he takes it too far he will use his hat to obscure your face until you calm down

Boothill is used to getting ambushed and as such is pretty hard to catch off guard in any event, he's always on alert, sadly even when he's supposed to be relaxing with you

He never expected you to kiss him first, and so suddenly when he just sat down in the saloon you work at

You knew he wanted to go over that same teasing push and pull where he kisses your hand and eventually you make your way onto his lap

But no, you missed him so much you leaned down and kissed him as soon as you finished taking his order

To be honest you didn't need to ask, you know what your boyfriend usually gets

It was the best way to get so close to him

You never saw him blush before now, now he used his hat to hide his own face, grumbling how he was gonna get you for this when you least expect it

[strwberri-milk]

Songs of Sorrow - Ch. 12

Rancher!AU || Boothill x Fem!Reader || Slowburn, Drama

You’ve finally settled into your routine a mere two months later. You wake up just before Boothill does, making him breakfast and then going back to bed. He tries to insist that you stop, trying to wake up before you do but failing. He’s good at waking up early but somehow he can’t beat you - probably because you go to bed right after and remain inside for most of the day when he’s at work. Then, you fill your days with cleaning or any paperwork that Boothill can hand off to you, managing to bully him into giving you any clerical work you can do to make his life easier. 

You’re working on making lunch for him right now after completing some forms for deliveries. Nobody usually comes up to the deck unless they’re accompanied by Boothill so your days are fairly quiet. You hear footsteps come up, ones that you don’t recognise at all. Your first instinct is to hide, grabbing your phone as you text Boothill in a panic. You know it’s too late when the woman stares at you, wide eyed. 

“You - who are you?” she yells, pounding against the glass. 

Your heart beats loudly in your chest as you continue to spam his phone. You pray that he’ll see it soon, knowing that you would either have to confront this stranger or pray that Boothill manages to intervene before things escalate. 

“If you broke in here I’m going to call the authorities!” she threatens. 

You watch her hands carefully, trying to determine if she has her phone on her. Judging by the fact that she isn’t reaching for any pockets you conclude she must have left it at home. She’s dressed casually, probably planning to stop by to talk to Boothill. 

You have a moment of clarity that she must be dropping by unannounced. Boothill had made it clear that for the foreseeable future he only wanted to see people who made appointments. It worked to make sure you were completely out of sight whenever he was visited, the system perfect as most people usually came during business hours. If they were trying to see him after business hours he was always close enough to give you an opening to run away. 

When he doesn’t reply you panic even more. You can’t be sure the woman recognises you or even has an inkling of who you are but you know with every second that passes you run the risk of her exposing you. Maybe you could stand back up and pretend you were his friend from his travels, tell her that you panicked when she started banging against the glass. That’s a reasonable response anybody would have to someone just suddenly acting so aggressively. You know how to act - you just need to calm down for a second. 

You panic as you can smell the food on the stove starting to burn, trying to figure out if you should risk turning off the stove as your call hits voicemail again. Normally he would have replied by now but clearly he was a little too busy. Now you have to focus both on making sure she doesn’t break into the home and ensuring that there’s a home to be broken into. 

Suddenly she turns and you see someone leading her off of the porch. You look closer and see that Boothill came back to the house, talking to her as you stand up again in the kitchen. He takes her away from the sliding door and you heave a sigh of relief as you watch the two of them retreat, turning off the stove as you wait for your phone to ding with his text. 

The door opens and now you can recognise the woman clinging onto Boothill’s arm. He gestures for you to come around the island, smiling comfortingly at you. You know you can trust that he’s looking out for you and if he thinks it’s safe for you to come out now then you’re going to believe him. 

“See? No one’s tryna break in - just a friend hidin’ out from a rough situation.”

You’re glad the cover he gave you is one that’s basically your story but more generalised. The details you’ll figure out eventually if he doesn’t end up telling you them himself but you’re sure that you can get out of this interaction unscathed. You take a deep breath, trying not to let the mild skepticism on her face distract you from your backstory. 

“Hi! I think I’ve seen you around before - you brought us those muffins, right?” 

You smile kindly at her and she nods, reaching her free hand out and shaking your hand. Her other arm moves from Boothill’s to wrap around his waist, making you furrow your brows slightly. You don’t notice that Boothill mirrors the expression on your face, gently pushing her hand off of him.

“I did! I’m glad to hear you like them.”

You return the gesture, wondering how she knew Boothill to feel so comfortable holding him the way she is. He doesn’t really say anything, turning his attention back to her as the two of them start to back out of the house. It looks like he’s telling her to go home, gently patting her shoulder with his hand. She pouts playfully, swatting at his chest but he doesn’t seem to respond in kind. It takes a second but she finally leaves, waving goodbye before looking at you through the window. You mouth a farewell to her, an unsettling feeling sitting in your stomach at the slight glance she gives you. 

Boothill waits for her to leave the property before coming back inside. You smile at him a little tiredly, huffing a bit as you cross your arms. He comes back over to you, shaking his head as you look up at him. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t see your messages earlier sweetheart,” he says ruefully, taking your hands in his as he squeezes them gently. 

“It’s alright,” you mumble, moreso just glad that she’s left.  

“You aren’t mad at me? I wouldn’t blame you ya’know,” he tries again, seemingly blaming himself for what just transpired.

“You were busy. I can’t expect you to wait on me hand and foot, can I?” you reply, not wanting him to feel bad for something he really couldn't have predicted. 

He sighs, letting go of you and running his hand through his hair.

“This is different. Your life is at danger - I trust Geryll won’t tell nobody aboutcha but I can’t be sure…” 

An unreadable expression crosses his face, piquing your interest. 

“Is there something I should know about her?” you ask hesitantly. 

“Nah, I don’t think so…” he says a little doubtfully. 

He rubs his finger against his chin, clearly thinking that there is something you should know. 

“She’s never been like that before. She was insistent that you broke in and were gonna kill me.” 

You laugh at the notion, shaking your head.

“Real funny. She can’t seriously think I could fight someone like you.” 

He doesn’t seem to hear the humor in your statement at the moment, continuing to mull over his thoughts. 

“Real insistent like. The way she was talking you would have thought you held a gun up to her. You didn’t do that right?” he jokes, knowing that there’s no way you’d even have access to his guns. 

“Obviously not,” you huff, crossing your arms. 

“I was just trying to make you lunch.”

You look dejectedly over to the stove, sighing as Boothill surveys the damage. You’re a little surprised when he turns the burners back on, shuffling the pans around a little as he pulls out things to continue cooking. 

“Nothin’ looks like it burned and there’s no point in wasting good food. Why dontcha go lay down and I’ll finish this up? You still look a li’l leery.” 

Without saying a word you listen to his suggestion, going to your room and closing the door behind you. You draw the curtains and curl up on the bed, snapped out of the fairytale you’ve been living in. 

You’d managed to delude yourself into thinking you could stay here for an extended period of time.Perhaps you should thank her for reminding you that your time here is temporary. It was always meant to be temporary. But at the same time you don’t think you’re quite happy with the idea of leaving Boothill forever, the friendship the two of you developed one you know you’ll mourn for a while. 

You sigh to yourself, pulling the blanket up closer to your chin. The more time you spend here the harder it’ll be for you to leave. You’re not dense enough to know that you’d be able to make a clean break with the people you’ve gotten to know on the ranch, especially him. 

You need to get out of here, and soon. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧───  ｡ﾟ☆ *.☽ .*☆｡ﾟ ───✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“I don’t know Boothill…” 

He raises a brow, looking at Geryll confusedly. 

Boothill ran to the house as soon as he saw the plethora of calls you left on his phone, worried that something was happening. As soon as he saw Geryll knocking on the glass and screaming at something inside he knew you were found out. If he panicked now everything he did would be for naught. He knew he had to play it cool, coming up with an easy cover story as he walked away with her. 

“What do you mean?” she says with a pause, clearly not wanting to let it go. 

“I mean…a strange woman shows up-”

“I told you she’s my friend,” he says gruffly, cutting her off.  

“A strange woman shows up and you immediately believe her story? I mean, Boothill, you need to be careful. What if you’re just being taken advantage of?” she huffs, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I know you’re tryna look out for me. It’s a real neighbourly thing a’you but I don’t need it. I know her better than you do and I know I’m not bein’ played. I appreciate your concern but like I just said…I’m fine here.” He throws his hands up in defeat, knowing that right now she was going to stay stuck on her thought pattern. 

She gives him a skeptical look, leaning against a fence post as they speak. 

“Is that the reason why you haven’t been coming into town lately? You’ve been looking after her?” she says sharply, offended for whatever reason. 

He thinks the words sound accusatory but he also has no reason to believe that, deciding to just ignore it for now. He’s probably just imagining it after all. He has no reason to think that she would be upset about the fact that he’s taking care of someone. 

“I’ve missed you. We were supposed to meet at the bar last week,” she continues punitively. 

“I’m sorry for skippin’ out on ya but that has nothin’ to do with her. One of the cows fell ill and I was makin’ sure it wasn’t anything major,” he explains. 

She huffs a little, still slighted from the fact that he did blow her off. 

“Listen, why don’t I introduce you to her, huh? You’ll see there’s nothing to worry about.”

Geryll starts to complain but Boothill won’t hear any of it, walking back towards the house and opening the door. 

He’s glad when he sees the two of you getting along, watching Geryll carefully. He needs to know she won’t compromise your cover and judging by the reserved way she acts around you she doesn’t seem to recognise you at all. He’s glad Mikhal did all he could to keep her away from your lounge, telling her that it was a bed of degenerates and criminals. Even if it wasn’t the full truth the prospect of it scared her off enough to cover Boothill’s ass at this moment. 

Now with the crisis averted, Boothill's enjoying an evening on the pastures. You told him that you were going to get an early night. He reminded you he’d keep his phone on him, now making sure that the ringer was loud enough to alert him no matter what he was doing. He enjoys a cigarette at the foot of a tree, blowing out a plume of smoke as a pair of footsteps enter his view. 

“You again? Keep followin’ me around and I might just have to poach ya from Sushang and make ya work for me,” he laughs, sliding over a little to make room for Dan Heng. 

“I just wanted to ask you a few questions.”

The other man sits down with him, bringing a knee up to his chest.

“Mikhal stopped by today.”

“Really? He say anythin’ interestin’?” Boothill feels his chest tighten at the mention of her brother, knowing that if he was given enough information he’d quickly piece the puzzle together. 

“Yeah. He said Geryll came home really worked up. She was distraught that there was someone in your house she couldn’t recognise,” he says casually. 

“Distraught? Seems like an overreaction,” Boothill laughs, taking another drag. 

“That’s what I thought. Then, she came to my house to ask me if I knew anything about your houseguest.”

At this Boothill furrows his brows, not sure what to make of the information he’s being given. 

“And what’d you tell her?” 

“That I have no idea what she’s talking about. You didn’t tell me you were housing anybody. It’s none of my business what you do.” 

Dan Heng’s always respected his privacy and Boothill’s glad for it, but he knows that the other man isn’t telling him this just to gossip.

“You know she’s had her eye on you for a while, right?” he says after a minute. 

“She thinks she wants me,” is all he offers as a reply.

“I’m not good for nobody. I’ve told her that before.”

“Are you interested in her at all? I wouldn’t say I don’t understand why if you say you are.” 

“Not at all. It just came up in conversation. She asked me when I wanted to get married, how many kids I wanted, shit like that. Told her not to bother with that thing because it ain’t somethin’ I’m keen on.” 

Boothill starts to fidget with his hands, the line of conversation quickly becoming uncomfortable for him. He shakes his shoulders, clearing his throat as the cigarette dangles between his lips. 

The two of them sit in silence, Dan Heng knowing that Boothill’s mind is running through a number of possibilities. As easy going as he was, contingency plans were a bit of  speciality he found himself honing. He knows that Dan Heng’s giving him a heads up, his own past as turbulent as Boothill’s. The two of them didn’t divulge often around each other but there was just a sense of understanding they both had. 

“Thanks for the heads up. I can take care of myself though.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I just thought you should know.”

He gets up wordlessly, brushing the grass off of his clothes as he turns back to look at Boothill. 

“You should know better than anyone that you can’t keep things as they are. Something’s going to have to give.” 

Boothill stands up to join him, clapping his shoulder with a wide grin. 

“Don’t worry. I got it handled.”