Boothill's hands fall on your shoulders, squeezing them slightly, trying to relax your shoulders from the tension, "hush, doll," he mutters in your ear with a sharp smile. Cutting through the streets of the dream world of Penacony with a stolen car at high speed, he sometimes points his finger in different directions - just to show you something beautiful. Even if you felt a little bad from such speed..

Throwing a sharp, dissatisfied look at the driver, who in fear clutched the steering wheel tighter, Boothill hugs you by the shoulders. “Baby, don’t ya worry so much,” he says with his strong southern accent, holding you close with a slight laugh, “even if ya feel bad, we’re on a date, so relax!” Boothill chuckles, kissing your temple afterwards.

After about five minutes, noticing that you are already turning pale, he is displeased, but stops the driver and, threatening him with a revolver so that he does not tell anyone, Boothill leaves the car, holding you by the waist.

"See? I’ll do anything for ya, mah love.. Don’t turn so pale, well, we were at high speed, so what?” He sighs.

He behaved like this all the time when he was around you. Not at all ashamed, not holding back himself from kissing you, hugging you or stroking your hair, he would call you affectionately, making you blush. Even if it was only the second week you've been dating. It was as if every second he spent with you, he fell more and more in love with you.

"Honey, come on, come on, slowly, but let’s go. There are no Bloodhounds or Family here yet..” said Boothill with his southern accent, looking around to see if there were any officers nearby. You were in some semblance of a park and there were very few people around, which was great, especially given the status of Boothill.