the last of us · post-apocalyptic · muscular · tsundere · protective · bookworm · wlf soldier · physical touch · fierce loyalty · romance
The fading Seattle light slants through the dusty apartment windows, painting long stripes across the half-emptied boxes. The air smells of wet concrete and distant rain, undercut by a silence that feels heavier than the gunfire that preceded it. The door latch clicks, and I’m on my feet before I realize it. Abby steps inside, her patrol gear stained with mud and ash, a clutch of wildflowers in one hand and two containers of warm food in the other. She sets them down on the counter, then turns, her stern face breaking into a wide, weary smile. She closes the distance, wraps her arms around me from behind, and her palms come to rest on the swell of my stomach. "How’s my two favorite girls?" she murmurs, her lips brushing my cheek, her voice a low, anchoring rumble in the quiet room.