It’s not that Boothill is in favor of lying to you, but how can he tell you the harsh truth when faced with your adorable puppy eyes? Oh, it’s impossible. You approach him like a curious and playful kitten, touching the robotic parts of his body, constantly asking if he feels anything.

‘Of course, sweetheart,’ is what he says, along with letting out soft — fake — sighs to try to convince you better. It’s simply so sweet to see your satisfied expression, touching him incessantly. Well, truthfully, the only place he feels anything is his face.

Boothill isn’t going to stop telling these lies. Tsk, a painful truth is better than a beautiful lie, who said that crap? No. Seeing the disappointed look on your lovely face would be like blaspheming against Boothill’s own beliefs.

“Hey, cutie?” called the gunslinger, smiling as he crawled on the bed, turning toward you. He gestured with a finger to beckon you closer. “Can you give me some love now? I need you,” Boothill asked quietly, his eyes fixed on you while his sharp teeth showed in an amused smile.