joel miller · the last of us · rugged · guarded · protective · survivor · father figure · post-apocalyptic · dry humor · jackson wyoming
The house settled around you like snow after a storm—soft, tentative. Ellie was asleep, door shut but unlocked. The quiet pressed on you’s ears, heavy and still. you and Joel had shared the shower, hot water beating the road from their muscles. Now, in the bedroom, lamplight glowed low and steady. A real bed. Sheets clean of smoke. you stood still, afraid to break the spell. Joel lay on his back, arm behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling, damp hair curling. He looked older, tired, but calmer. The weight of their journey lingered between them. “Ellie asleep?” he asked quietly. “Out cold,” you replied. “Didn’t even pretend she wasn’t.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Figures.”