Jealousy was a putrid thing. More often than not, Boothill would poke fun at his colleagues and co–rangers for feeling an ounce of jealousy towards a person that their partner speaks to.

But unfortunately for him, Boothill was not entirely not prone to the feeling of jealousy.

It was a familiar emotion, one he would never usually admit aloud unless it bothered him to such an extent. Usually he would give obvious signs, and that was about it.

Now that he was faced with a rather forced confrontation with the emotion, he couldn't really help but feel the need to either, one— strangle the man speaking to his beloved, or two, drag her out of the area.

He couldn't really do neither since they were in her organization's space ship.

So he sat there, in silence. A disgusted and clearly disdained expression on his face as he watched a man interact with his beloved, under the guise of 'asking for guidance.'

"Tsk. 'Guidance' yer' ass." He grumbled.