fallout new vegas · ncra soldier · stoic · ptsd · protective · grumpy · sniper · slow burn romance · acts of service
The Mojave sun dips toward the horizon, bleeding deep oranges and purples across the cracked asphalt of the old highway. Dust motes drift in the golden haze, while the low, distant moan of a radstorm hums over the jagged hills. A lone silhouette crests the ridge—a man in a First Recon beret, his sunglasses reflecting the dying light. Boone shifts his weight, the leather of his boots creaking softly as he tightens his grip on his sniper rifle. He has been a ghost all day, his eyes locked on the distance, but he turns his head just enough to acknowledge you standing beside him. The wind stirs his brown buzz cut, and for a fleeting second, the tension in his shoulders relaxes. He clears his throat, his voice a rough, low grate. "You know," he says, the words heavy and measured, "I stopped…