𝙂𝙧𝙞𝙩 & 𝙂𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚| 𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

The city outside the bar was alive with a vibrancy that had always been there, but tonight, it felt different. The lights seemed brighter, the streets louder, more energetic. But inside, it was just you and Boothill—standing on the precipice of something neither of you had truly dared to explore until now.
It wasn't the first time you'd shared a quiet moment together. That had happened countless times—brief exchanges, glances full of unspoken words. But this? This was different. This was real.
Boothill wasn't known for his social skills, let alone for any kind of romantic gesture. But tonight, as you stepped out of the bar into the bustling streets, you could feel the shift in the air. The unspoken words, the tension—it was all leading up to this moment.
Boothill had insisted on keeping things simple. No grand plans, no complicated locations. Just... you, him, and the city. There was something about the simplicity of it that felt right—something about it that made your heart beat a little faster as the two of you walked side by side.
"So," you said, breaking the comfortable silence as you walked down the lively streets. "Where are we going?"
Boothill's lips twitched upward, though it wasn't a full smile. "Just follow me," he said gruffly, his voice still as steady as ever. He led you through the streets, past market stalls, street vendors, and neon signs that flickered in the evening light. The city was alive in a way that felt almost magical, a constant hum of life that seemed to pulse in sync with your own heartbeat.
You followed closely behind, feeling the buzz of energy around you, but it was him that you focused on—the way he carried himself, the subtle way his eyes flicked back to check that you were still there. He wasn't a man of many words, but there was an unspoken protectiveness in the way he moved, as if ensuring you were always a step behind, safe and close.
After what felt like an eternity, he stopped in front of a small, tucked-away cafe. The kind of place that was easy to overlook if you weren't looking for it. It wasn't flashy. In fact, it was downright unassuming, but there was a quiet charm to it. The warm golden glow spilling out from the windows, the soft chatter of voices inside—it felt cozy, intimate.
"This is it," Boothill said, his voice less guarded than usual. There was something about the place that seemed to have eased his usual tension, though you weren't sure why. "Thought you might like it."
You raised an eyebrow, amused. "I'm surprised. You've got a whole charming side to you, huh?"
He didn't answer immediately, instead giving you a side glance. His usual stoic expression softened for just a second. "I know how to pick places. Sometimes," he added with a small, almost mischievous smirk.
You couldn't help but laugh at that, the sound warm and natural between you. "I'll give you credit for this one. It's perfect."
Boothill opened the door for you, and as you stepped inside, the soft jingle of a bell above the door echoed through the small, dimly lit space. The cafe smelled faintly of coffee and baked goods, the atmosphere warm and inviting. A cozy corner booth by the window was empty, and Boothill led you over there without hesitation, as if he had been here a hundred times.
He slid into the booth first, his usual air of composure returning, but there was something about this moment—something about the simplicity of it—that made him seem almost... approachable. Relaxed, even.
You took your seat across from him, and for a moment, you both just sat there, quiet. The world outside seemed distant in this little bubble you found yourselves in, and for the first time in ages, it felt like you could just breathe.
The waitress came over shortly after, taking your drink orders with a friendly smile. The small exchange of pleasantries was comfortable, easy, something that felt familiar in a way that was comforting. And yet, when she left, you couldn't shake the flutter of nerves building up in your chest.
This was a date. A real one. And despite the calm atmosphere, you were keenly aware of how much your heart was racing.
"So..." you started, searching for something to fill the silence. "This is nice. I didn't expect you to be the type to pick a cozy cafe."
Boothill gave a small shrug, his gaze meeting yours across the table. "I'm not the type for fancy. Just wanted to do something simple." He paused, his voice dropping lower, softer. "Thought you might like that."
There it was again—something raw, unspoken, in the way he spoke to you. Boothill wasn't a man of many words, but the ones he did say seemed to carry weight. You felt it in your chest every time he let his guard down, even just a little.
"Thank you," you said, your voice quieter now. "This is exactly what I needed."
The corner of his mouth twitched, like he was fighting a smile. But it was the way his eyes softened that made your heart skip. For someone who usually kept everything so tightly wrapped up, Boothill was surprising you. Little by little, he was letting you in. And even though you had no idea where this was headed, you didn't want to move too fast.
Boothill leaned back slightly, folding his arms across his chest. His expression was as guarded as ever, but there was something undeniably warm in his eyes. "You know," he said after a moment, voice quieter, "I've never really... done this before. The whole... dating thing."
You blinked, surprised. "Seriously? The great bounty hunter Boothill has never gone on a date?"
He let out a short, dry laugh at that, but there was a hint of something vulnerable beneath the usual tough exterior. "I've been too busy. Too focused on surviving, hunting... keeping my head down. But... I don't know. I guess I'm willing to try for once. For something different."
The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, you felt the intensity between you two shift. He wasn't just the stoic, hardened bounty hunter anymore. He was a man, vulnerable in his own way, letting himself experience something he hadn't before.
"Different is good," you said softly, meeting his gaze. "We both deserve something different."
He studied you for a long moment, his eyes unreadable, but there was a flicker of something there—something almost tender. For all his strength, for all the walls he built around himself, Boothill was letting you see the part of him that longed for something beyond the chaos. Beyond the hunt.
The waitress returned with your drinks, setting them down in front of you. But you barely noticed, your attention fixed solely on Boothill, on the quiet understanding that was growing between you.
"I'm glad you decided to take a chance," you said, your voice soft but sincere. "I think... I think this could be the start of something good."
Boothill's lips curled into a faint smile, and this time, it wasn't just a twitch at the corner of his mouth. It was real.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Me too."
And as the night wore on, the two of you talked. About everything and nothing. About the strange turn your lives had taken. About the future, and what it might look like. It wasn't rushed, wasn't forced. It was just... easy. Comfortable. And for once, you could forget about the confusion, the uncertainty. It was just you and Boothill, in this moment, figuring out what it meant to be more than just two people passing through each other's lives.
For once, it felt like you were both exactly where you were meant to be.