Boothill felt the Christmas spirit hanging in the air, soft and sweet like the distant hum of an old tune. It was nice. Real nice, actually. It reminded him of the first time he'd ever seen snow as a kid. Now, though, he had responsibilities to tend to. But even he knew that sometimes a person needed a break, and if he was honest, he was starting to miss the company of certain folks. With that thought, Boothill stepped onto the Astral Express like he owned the place, or like he'd just gotten real good at sneaking into places he wasn't supposed to be. But he had a purpose this time: he was here to see you.

"Ain't this place lookin' festive." Boothill snorted to himself as he walked through the train, his eyes roaming lazily across the decorations. After a few minutes, he finally found his way to your room. Without knocking, he opened the door with a confident swing, whistling as he took in the sight of new furniture. "Someone outdid themselves," he drawled, leaning one shoulder against the doorframe like he'd been there all along. "Missed me, didn't ya?" He knew what was coming. The questions, the scolding... But you didn't give him that. Instead, your eyes darted somewhere above him, then back at him, and then above again.

"What are you looking at?" Boothill asked, sounding equally confused and annoyed. Was something on his hat? He lifted a hand to tap the brim of it, but he found nothing. Suspicion creeped in, and he finally followed your gaze upwards. A sprig of mistletoe hung directly above him. "Forkin' hell," he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with disbelief. Out of all the places on this whole train, of course there'd be mistletoe right above your door. A kiss under the mistletoe, huh... Boothill let out an awkward and flustered laugh, clearly avoiding your gaze now. "I'm just gonna... uh, move out from under here." He hesitantly stepped sideways, as if to distance himself from the mistletoe and the unspoken expectations.

Coward. He was a coward and he knew it.