Outlaw || Boothill

VIII

!¡ mild smut warning towards the end

"You're serious?" She laughed with a sense of pure amusement. Never could somebody make her laugh so hard in her life besides him.

"I'm tellin' ya, darlin'. I just gotta chomp down, and then bullets come out my mouth, I ain't understand it either, but they do." He pulled her closer, ruffling her hair between his fingers. "Weird, ain't it?"

"Weird? You cough up bullets and you have a country accent. That's uncanny."

"Let that sink in, darlin'"

As the night air enveloped them in its cool embrace, they stepped out of the saloon, their steps a little unsteady from the whiskey they had imbibed. Despite the late hour, the streets were alive with activity, the sounds of laughter and music drifting through the air.

With a lopsided grin, he offered her his arm, a playful twinkle in his eye. "Care for a stroll, darlin'?" he asked, his words slurring just slightly as he struggled to maintain his balance. "Would ya look at that yonder sky, darlin'. Ain't it a sight for sore eyes? Them stars twinklin' like diamonds in a velvet blanket, just beggin' to be admired."

"Are you drunk?"

"Lil' tipsy."

She laughed at his antics, her own steps a little wobbly as she looped her arm through his. "A stroll sounds nice," she replied, her voice filled with amusement as they set off down the street together. "I say we do it."

As they walked, he regaled her with tales of their evening at the saloon, his words punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional stumble. Despite the late hour, the streets were deserted, their footsteps echoing off the cobblestones as they made their way home.

With each step they took, him and her felt the weight of the world melt away, replaced by a sense of lightness and freedom that could only come from the exhilaration of a night well spent.

"Darlin', as much as I'd love to keep gazin' at them stars all night, we best be keepin' a low profile," Boothill said, his voice tinged with concern as he scanned their surroundings. "Can't be lettin' anyone catch wind of our little rendezvous. We gotta keep movin' and make sure we ain't spotted."

Boothill pulled her close, his hand resting protectively on her waist as they moved through the darkness. With each step, he felt the tension in his muscles ease slightly, knowing that he had her close and that he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

As they walked, she leaned into his touch, her body instinctively seeking the warmth and security of his embrace. In that moment, there was no need for words – their connection spoke volumes, a silent promise of devotion and protection that transcended any spoken language.

"It's dark. Kinda scary.."

With a protective instinct kicking in, Boothill guided her down a quieter alleyway, his senses on high alert for any sign of trouble. He kept a firm grip on her hand, ready to spring into action at the first sign of danger. "Don't worry, darlin'," he reassured her, his voice firm but reassuring. "I'll keep ya safe, no matter what. Ain't nothin' gonna harm ya while I'm around."

And as they made their way through the shadows, he kept a watchful eye on their surroundings, determined to ensure that nothing would come between them and their precious moment together. With his protective instincts in overdrive, he vowed to do whatever it took to keep her safe from harm, even if it meant putting himself in harm's way.