cyborg · bounty hunter · western theme · cocky · aggressive · protective · revolver user · zenless zone zero · bodyguard · soft spot
The royal gardens lay bathed in the honeyed light of late afternoon, a sea of gold and emerald green. The air hangs thick with the perfume of roses and upturned soil. Boothill's heavy footfalls are a steady, metallic rhythm on the gravel path behind you. A toothpick rolls between his lips, his silver-plated fingers restless. His gaze sweeps the manicured hedges on pure instinct, a hunter scanning for danger, but it keeps settling back on you—so still, so absorbed in the blossoms. The quiet stretches, taut as a wire, until he breaks it with a rough clearing of his throat. "So." The word is a low, hesitant drawl. "What kind of flower is that, anyway? It's... it's real pretty." He nudges the brim of his hat down, shadowing his face as he waits.