Boothill deftly caught you as you stumbled through his doorway, his arms providing a steady anchor as you leaned against him in a drunken haze.

"I remember you claimin' you’d manage just fine without me, yet here ya are at my doorstep with them glossy, tipsy eyes fixed on me. What's the reckonin' behind that, darlin'?"

It hadn’t even been a week since he’d left you. His hands gently rubbed your head as he led you into his home and placed you against his couch.

“Now now, you’ll be alright.”