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Lucy struggled to keep her eyes ahead of her and off of him as they walked along the cracked earth. She greatly preferred walking together instead of being tugged or shoved along. She had only known him for a few weeks, just long enough to know that he was a puzzle that would take quite effort time to crack.
There was no scarcity of confusing, gruesome, fascinating things about the surface, including him. Everything about the man seemed larger than life. From his effortless swagger to the way he spoke with a velvety smoothness that paired so nicely with the rugged decay of the rest of him. Between his demeanor and his voice that felt almost familiar sometimes, he was completely fascinating. His name was still a mystery, and his past locked up tight, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, he was just so… cool. Every move he made was precise and deliberate, like he was comfortably two steps ahead of everyone else. Even his tattered coattails flared out dramatically when he walked, as if he knew exactly how to play into the theatrics of it all.
She often got lost watching him tinker with his equipment as they settled into camp in the evenings, trying her best to figure out the mechanics of his seemingly endless survival knowledge. He didn’t like when she asked too many questions, so mostly she just liked to watch his hands at work. He wasn’t oblivious to her attention, either. Sometimes he even seemed to enjoy it, casting her a sidelong glance whenever he caught her staring too long. It was like he was in on some joke that she hadn’t quite pieced together yet. She’d flit her eyes away, or offer a nervous smile in hopes she wasn't bothering him too much, but eventually she’d always come back to watching him.
They had been steadily making their way towards New Vegas, stopping here and there to scavenge and trade. They were leaving a small little nothing town. Passing silently through a ravine with the skeletons of cars littered about and cliffs on either side, when they stumbled into a raider ambush. It all happened so fast that Lucy barely had time to register the whooping shouts and gunfire before she was yanked behind cover. Her heart pounded as bullets whizzed overhead, dinking against old metal, cracking against cliff faces and compacted earth.
“You stay low, sweetie,” the man muttered. His voice was a gravelly rumble, ever calm despite the chaos.
Despite the desert heat and their proximity, his breath by her ear made her shiver. She tried to step back, maintain a semblance of a respectable distance in the confined space. She barely had time to get her wits about her before he was moving again. He peeked out from behind a boulder to line up his next shot. She curiously wanted to do the same, to assess the situation and somehow be of help.
But then, with a smoothness that almost made her head spin, he grabbed her by the upper arm and hauled her backwards against his chest. Lucy held her breath, her back pressed firmly against him as his arm snaked around her front, holding her close at the waist. This was the closest she’d ever been to him. The cool, rough texture of his shirt against her skin, the smell of dusty leather, and that overwhelming presence of his, it all made her head swim. She could feel the controlled tension in his frame, like he was nothing but coiled power beneath his calm exterior. She didn’t dare move, lips parted in shock as she stared ahead.
He steadied his aim with his free hand, eyes locked on the group of raiders advancing from the far side of the clearing. He took his time, lining up each shot with unhurried precision. One by one, the raiders fell, collapsing in heaps of sand and gore. The noise of battle faded, leaving only the faint echo of spent gunshots echoing off of the rocks in the distance.
For a few long seconds, Lucy couldn’t breathe. Her heart was racing, but not just from the danger. She couldn't help but focus on the way he was still holding her—strong and secure like nothing could touch her while she was in his arms.
As if sensing her dazed state, he glanced down at her. His piercing eyes, bright and calculating beneath that weathered face, met hers. Her hands unconsciously came to rest on his arm around her. She looked up at him, confused, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
He winked.
It was quick, playful, and so damned confident that Lucy felt a flush crawl up her neck. Before she could even process it, he released her, stepping back with that same cool grace. He holstered his pistol, still holding her with that look, as if the entire situation had been nothing more than a casual stroll for him. As if there was something he found funny about her.
“All good?” he asked, cutting the tension.
Lucy blinked a few times, trying to shake off the lingering tenseness in her shoulders. She nodded, still reeling from the mix of adrenaline and the sheer magnetism he exuded.
“Yes,” she steadied herself, her voice coming out slightly more breathless than she intended. “I’m good.”
He tipped his hat, almost like the shadow of a gentleman might, before turning back to scan the area. All business again. They efficiently scoured the scene, gathering what caps or other useful items they could loot from the corpses. But she just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to that wink and that look than just teasing. There was a sense of assurance behind it, like he knew exactly the kind of effect he was having on her, and that he might possibly be enjoying it.
As they resumed their journey, Lucy tried to will away the warmth in her face, heartbeat still fluttering away in her chest. He certainly was a puzzle, a mystery wrapped up nicely in charm and danger. All she could do was walk along with him, tugged along gently by the mystery of it all.