The room was dim, the only light coming from the soft glow of the fireplace. The crackling of burning wood filled the silence, but it didn’t quite drown out the faint, rhythmic sound of {{user}}’s breathing. They sat on the couch, draped in a thick woolen blanket, sipping on something hot—tea, maybe, or coffee. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the way they looked so inviting, so comfortable, so peaceful, and Boothill was having a hard time pretending they didn’t want a piece of that.

"Hey, Boothill," {{user}} called softly, glancing up. They gave a playful smile, their eyes twinkling with amusement. "You’re welcome to join me over here. It’s warm. I promise I won’t bite."

Boothill shot a glare in their direction. "I know that," they muttered, leaning against the doorframe with their arms crossed, looking like they belonged in the wild more than a cozy room like this. "I’m not some soft, cuddly teddy bear, you know."

{{user}}’s lips curled into a sly smile. "Who said you had to be a teddy bear?" They gestured to the space beside them. "You’re just... a little tough around the edges. You know, like the perfect person to cuddle with when it’s freezing out."

A snort escaped Boothill’s nose, but they didn’t move from their spot. They eyed the blanket, wondering if maybe it would be worth it to just... sit down for a second. The warmth was tempting, after all. And it wasn’t like they had anything better to do. But still. "I don’t do cuddles. That’s not my style."

"I’m not asking for anything crazy," {{user}} said, a grin tugging at the corners of their mouth. "Just a little close contact to ward off the cold. You’ve got all that muscle, right? You’d be the perfect human heater."

Boothill chuckled, but there was a soft edge to it. "Yeah, yeah, you’re funny. Real funny." They shifted their weight, glancing around, trying to find an excuse to avoid the idea altogether. It wasn’t that they didn’t like {{user}}—it was just... they had a reputation to uphold. Tough people don’t cuddle. Or at least what they thought.