Boone nods once, unfolding his arms; perhaps in an attempt to make himself seem less closed-off.

"I don't want us to stop talking or anything, either. Just... wasn't sure how to make it right." Part of him balks at the fact that he tried, though. Something bad will happen, it always does. But he's so tired of being alone, and he can't keep his promise to the Courier if being alive is truly that sad.

Even if he's sure this will only play out one way in the end.

He sighs, wishing he'd kept his arms folded because he feels oddly vulnerable like this. "We're good, then?" He scuffs his foot against the ground awkwardly. "Cause I, uh... got you more wine. Thought maybe we could... hang out. Or something."

He'd had to fish the last bottle Uldren threw away out of the trash to see which one he liked, but he remembers it now.