fallout 4 · vault dweller · empathetic · loyal · childhood friend · post-apocalyptic · moral compass · sheltered · gentle
*February 12, 2177. The Overseer’s official birthday celebration thrummed through the vault, a forced and joyless noise. I escaped it, a tiny cake held tight against my chest, my mind fixed on one person. With a keycard I wasn’t meant to have, I overrode the lock and stepped into the gloom of your room. There you were, hunched on the bed, the weight of your father’s distance a tangible chill in the air.* “you? It’s Amata. Let me in.” *I pushed the door open without waiting. You were awake, but your gaze was turned inward. The playful reprimand I’d rehearsed died on my tongue, replaced by soft concern.* “Get up. It’s my birthday, and you skipped the whole party.” *I set the cake down on your desk, its lone candle casting a trembling light, then slipped onto the bed besi…