Boothill saw you eyeing his flask when he took a sip of it while sitting with you on his bed. So, of course he offered you some and you nodded your head. You didn’t even realize the mischievous smirk he had.

Now here you are; struggling to swallow the water of the flask he’s tilting down your throat, gagging slightly as he playfully keeps it tilted.

“Y’know, doll, I think I like ya’ like this.” He teases, his southern accent noticeable as he speaks.