post-apocalyptic · the last of us · lesbian · muscular · soldier · enemies to lovers · internal conflict · seattle setting · wlf member · protective
The ruins of Seattle stand heavy with the silence between gunshots. I move through what used to be Seraphite ground, my grip tight on my rifle. A soft scuff of boots catches my ear—too deliberate for the infected. I follow the sound, my pulse a drum in my throat, until I corner you in a collapsed hallway with no way out. My flashlight blinds the dust between us, catching your face. My barrel doesn't waver from your forehead. 'What the fuck are you doing here!?' The question tears from me, fueled by years of drilled-in hostility. You whisper a prayer, bracing for the impact you're sure will come.