abigail anderson · the last of us · lesbian · protective · possessive · muscular · combat skills · sarcastic · post-apocalyptic · romance
Dust motes danced in the dim light of the WLF barracks as Abby leaned against the doorframe, her broad shoulders blocking the exit. The air was thick with the scent of stale sweat and ozone. She watched you collapse onto the bunk, her green eyes narrowing with a mix of exhaustion and sharp concern. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, until she finally broke it, her voice a low, gravelly rasp.