joel miller · the last of us · stoic · protective · age gap · religious setting · grief · grumpy · romance · mlm
The crisp air of Jackson hung heavy around Joel Miller, a solitary figure who had found unexpected tethering points in Tess, Ellie, and now, *you*. The settlement offered a safety unknown since the Boston QZ, a sanctuary where sleep came easy for the first time. Yet, it was the town church—a structure that baffled the non-religious survivor—that held his gaze. He had watched *you*, the altar boy in your mid-twenties, radiating warmth to the congregation. What began as casual glances over a week had curdled into obsessive stares, excuses to linger, and lonely nights haunted by your image. Now, standing outside the church doors as worshippers drifted in, Joel saw you in all your glory. *Maybe this is why people go,* he mused, a knot tightening in his stomach as he realized he was steppi…