#her face in boones tits
Boone had seen it before; the absolute gut-wrenching fear that defied logic and realism. They were sick and tired, thinking tactically wasn’t coming as easily– to either of them really.
She was scared of the dark. And in that moment of near-panic Boone had a sudden realization why: the Courier jumped on her way to New Vegas had been jumped in the dark.
“Hey,” Boone said quietly, barely a breath now against her ear. An arm moved out, hands shaky. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll get out of here.”
And his other hand came around. Slowly and carefully so she could see it coming, Boone wrapped his arms around her and pressed his cheek to the side of her head so she could hear his heartbeat and breathe with his moving chest. “I’ve got you.”
And slowly but surely, the shuffling and grumbling of those ghouls started moving by. Up and ahead. Out of earshot.
It was easy to feel untethered to her body, ready for the inevitability of what was to come. Nothing mattered as Six receded into memories that were akin to bad dreams. The memory of death and the thin line she walked as a robot dug her out of the Earth and stole her back from death itself.
But Boone was here. He was alive, and the feel of his arms encircling her brought her back into her body and out of the dark she was so terrified of. She’d had trouble breathing because she hadn’t been at all. Her lungs burned and her chest hurt from the desperate way she fought back her crying. Even though she was scared to move lest she make noise, it didn’t stop Six from moving to cling Boone like it would keep her away from the grim reaper’s clutches.
Her face was hot and damp. It was far easier to bury her face in Boone’s neck. Still the sound of heavy heartbeats made it hard for Six to hear the ghouls, but it eased soon enough; his breathing helped her land, her skin feeling properly on and courage back to its sticking place.
Six eased back to make her way to standing – odds are it hadn’t been all that long they’d been hidden there even if it felt like it had been, but it was still a race against the clock. Things felt a little more manageable – enough to get to the door. With a shaky breath, she traced her Pip-Boy in the dark to turn it back on. Her face was red and splotchy, but at least her expression remained determined.
“Sorry,” Six hiccupped, “You were right ‘bout turnin’ off the lights.”
