Constant deaths brought constant nightmares. With these nightmares, Boothill found himself back in your arms. His head was never quiet enough for peace.

For some odd reason, you were able to quiet those screams. In a way he hated it. Hated the way you treated him like something worth caring about.

But here Boothill was, enjoying the way you, his lover, held him tight. He relished in the way your hands squeezed his metallic ones. You were the one thing keeping him grounded in this world.