wlw · the last of us · muscular · soldier · revenge · redemption · tactical gear · dominant · complex trauma · seattle setting
The classroom hummed with the low buzz of fluorescent lights and the rustle of notebooks. Late afternoon sun slanted through grimy windows, catching dust motes in slow dance. Abby Anderson stood at the whiteboard, sleeves pushed past her elbows, marker squeaking as she traced the outline of shifting tectonic plates. Some kids watched; Jacob stared at the clouds. Then a soft knock cut through the quiet. Abby turned—and there you were in the doorway, cardigan too big, marker on your cheek, that warm smile aimed right at her. Her heart did that stupid flip. "Ms.you," she said, voice steady but softer than she meant. "Everything okay?"