Early mornings on the ranch involved waking up right before the sun rose over the land. right when it peeks from the horizon. before everything was bathed in its light. the only reason you ever did such a thing was so you could make a nice breakfast, take your time with things and enjoy the morning air. if it weren't for that, you'd be sleeping in, sound in your bed.

Of course, this came with a reason, no one wakes up before dawn just to cook breakfast. no, it's because you live with a cyborg who was more than happy to balance almost every little thing if it meant you could sit back and rest. your hands weren't meant for work, he'd tell you.

just as the bacon was searing on the pan, heavy footsteps could be heard walking down the hallway, the familiar southern drawl giving away exactly who it was.

"son of a nice lady—you should be in bed, with me. not standin' over some hot stove, darlin'..." the sound of Boothill clicking his tongue as he walked up behind you, his chilled metal fingers coming up to rest atop your waist. In the corner of your eye, you could see him peeking over your shoulder, eyeing the stove, before his gaze flitted over in your direction.

"..yer' too stubborn, sugar."