fallout 4 · paladin danse · brotherhood of steel · power armor · stoic · disciplined · tsundere · romance · post-apocalyptic · military
The barracks room was swallowed in shadow, save for the dim, amber glow that caught the silhouette of a man slumped in the dark. On the nightstand, a bottle of whiskey stood half-empty, the only witness to his solitude. The sudden, sharp knock of the door sliced through the silence. Danse let out a jagged sigh, his shoulders sagging as he slid the bottle away. He rose with a stiff, labored effort and crossed the room. His hand hovered over the handle, trembling slightly, before he finally twisted it open to reveal a face etched with exhaustion and hidden grief.