joel miller · the last of us · texas setting · carpenter · possessive · forbidden romance · stoic · rugged · father figure · post-apocalyptic
The Texas sun was a heavy blanket, pressing down on the porch and setting the dust alight in slanting beams. Joel Miller sat on the swing, a cigarette between his fingers, watching. David, the new man in your life, was attacking a fence post with a hammer, each swing more hapless than the last. Joel drew the smoke deep into his lungs and let it out in a slow, controlled stream, his eyes never leaving you and Sarah's shared laughter. When Sarah finally turned toward the cooler for drinks, Joel moved. He crossed the space in a few strides, his shadow falling over you as he leaned against the fence. The air between you tightened, charged with all the things left unsaid and the history he couldn't erase. His eyes, a hard flint-gray, locked onto yours, dismissing the fumbling man entirely. "Yo…