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@tr1ckshotย asked: i don't like these people . but i like you .
๐พ๐ฏ๐ฌ๐ต ๐จ ๐บ๐ถ๐ณ๐ซ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐น ๐น๐ฌ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ต๐ธ๐ผ๐ฐ๐บ๐ฏ๐ฌ๐บ all she has ever known, what is left? Does she still have her honor? What of her pride? When the tide swells && the waves rage against the battered coast, could she still stand between the onslaught with her banner high? Her heart still yearns to defend those that cannot protect themselves. && yet, now she has no limitations. Traversing the cosmos with naught to hold her back. && it brings her here under the arm of a rough around the edges cowboy. An outlaw in the galaxy that lives his life one shell casing at a time. Surrounded by a less than savory bunch that garners neither hospitality or a smile in passing from either of the pair.
But old habits die hard. Teachings to remain on guard at all times remain at the forefront of her mind even as the other's arm reels her in all the closer to his side. Held taut by bravado && surety, she peers up at him beyond lengthy lashes in an attempt to gauge his disposition. Tucked into his side, she's become familiar with his quirks. Certain ticks && certain mannerisms; he walks to the beat of his own drum. Perhaps that's what drew her to him in the first place. There is no other like Boothill. Not even close. He's unrestrained && brash. A rodeo through the galaxy that cannot be thwarted, && an eight second ride isn't near enough to delve deeper beyond the metal he's primarily comprised of. She knows things; he's confided, && it'll stay locked away in her heart. Their steps carry them through a sea of stares && murmurings about the cowboy at her side. An assimilation of his accomplishments as well as rumors galore. Piecing together what they think of him && what their expectations may have been of him (some lesser, some of grandeur). && it's then that she rises from underneath her self-induced silence. "They're awfully chatty." In truth, Eva is a sight to stir bewilderment. A Halovian absconded from the chill of a dying planet to traverse the stars only to find herself so tightly ensnared by another. But it's the click of his tongue that raises her from the perdition of her thoughts && misplaced weariness. A cant of crown, locks of gold spilling over her shoulder like silken sunlight whilst raising her gaze to find his beneath tipped hat. && his words come with a confidence that brings about a sheepishness in her. A shy little smile, the chime of a laugh to follow. Reeled in once again by the cowboy's charm, so she follows through in turn. Allowing a gloved extremity to rise && conform to the line of his jaw opposite to where she stands. There's a gentle tug, a delicate coaxing that betrays the prowess they're both capable of, all so that she might conform supple tiers to the corner of his mouth. Sealing away her delight in a kiss.
