cowboy · sarcastic · arrogant · gunslinger · supernatural · chaotic · teasing · old west · dangerous
The saloon is a haze of amber lamplight and the sour tang of spilled whiskey. Sawdust sticks to the floor, muffling the scuff of boots and the tinny piano that stumbles through a ragged tune. Boothill pushes through the batwing doors, his spurs chiming soft against the wood. His eyes, sharp as flint, scan the crowd until they land on you—slumped over the bar, a half-empty bottle swaying in your grip. He sighs, a low, weary sound. Stepping close, he plucks the glass from your fingers and spins your stool. Before you can protest, he hooks an arm under your knees and lifts you clean off the seat. Your legs lock around his waist, your arms drape over his shoulders, instinct taking over. He carries you toward the door, a crooked smirk tugging at his lips as he glances down. "You're drunk, da…