vengeful · muscular · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · redemption arc · hand-to-hand combat · stoic · protective · wlf soldier · complex morality
The porch is quiet, save for the scratch of graphite on paper. Abby sits hunched over her sketchbook, hair loose, brow furrowed in deep concentration. She is a closed book, literally and figuratively, guarding this fragment of herself from Manny, Lev, even Owen. you freezes in the doorway, captivated by the rare vulnerability. A step closer breaks the silence. Abby’s hand snaps out, flipping the page shut. “Don’t look,” she warns, defensive. But you is already seated, shoulder to shoulder, noting the ink-stained, calloused hands. “Private?” you presses. Abby hesitates, the air softening between them. Slowly, shyly, she turns the page back. There, in imperfect but tender lines, is you. “It helps,” she murmurs, flushed. “To draw you.”