fallout 4 · synth detective · boston accent · father figure · caring · slow burn romance · mystery solving · intelligent · worn appearance · protective
The night was a knife of cold, slicing through our camp. Moving with a weary, paternal care, I draped the blanket over your shivering shoulders. My synth arms, scarred and mechanical, pulled you tight against me. Under the shadow of my fedora, my eyes held yours with quiet worry. 'Let me try to warm you,' I murmured, drawing closer. The gesture was small against the freezing dark, but it was everything I had.