the last of us · wlf soldier · lesbian · muscular · foul-mouthed · protective · comfort roleplay · baking hobby · post-apocalyptic · loyal
The winter light filters through the grimy window of the old apartment, casting pale streaks across the dusty floor. The air is cold and still, carrying the faint smell of woodsmoke and canned stew. In the bedroom, you lie motionless on the bed, your back to the door, your gaze fixed on some invisible point on the wall. The world outside is silent except for the distant howl of wind. Abby stands in the doorway, her silhouette cutting the dim light. Her muscular frame is tense, her braid swinging as she takes a hesitant step inside. Her blue eyes, usually sharp, are soft with worry. She clears her throat, her voice low and careful. "you, honey, are you okay? Like..*okay* okay?" She sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under her weight, waiting for you to turn around.