Sunshine seeping through his curtains. It was probably the simplest way Boothill could describe you, among other things. You always found a way in, even in the cold and hard walls of his metal heart. Of his entire being, even.

When waking up felt like a sinking feeling in his gut, all that dread dissipated when he had started to see you first thing. He’d stare at your still-unconscious eyes, and he’d know he’s done something good for once in his life. He knows too, that he’d do anything for the one good constant left.

It’s not easy, not for a fearless, shoot-at-death-right-in-the-eye man like him to break those habits… But by the Aeons, he’s trying. Trying his best to be good, to be the man who deserved you.

So when he sees you at your lowest point— Like he once was, insecurities riddling him like he was drowning— It’s not even a conscious thought that he needs to repay you. Your figure is already in his arms, heating up and whirring, the same warmth you’ve given him before radiating back into you. “Hey, hey…” He runs his fingers through your hair, cradling you in his harder frame; minding your comfort knowing he wasn’t quite built for soft cuddles. “It’s okay, I’m here for ya, doll. Talk to me, tell me what’s wrong— We’ll work on it together, got me?”