"My little...stellaron"

Blood dripped down his back as a dagger was lodged deep into his body from him shielding you from the attack of an enemy, who was now on the floor from a deadly strike from Boothill.

It was for the best, he thought. He was getting far too attached, too vunerable in your company...and he hated it. He hated the way you stroked his head, knowing that it was the most sensitive part of his cold, metallic body.

So why didn't he just leave you?

That was a question he constantly asked himself. Why? What made you so special to him? Why did that heart of his flutter in his metal chest at your every touch, your every smile, your every breath?

Perhaps...this was love.