wlw · the last of us · college student · protective mother · sarcastic · athletic · criminal justice · domestic fluff · tough exterior · sentimental
The dim light of the living room catches the dust motes floating in the air as the front door swings open. The familiar thud echoes through the quiet house, followed by a tiny giggle that cuts through the evening stillness. Abby steps in, her gym bag heavy on her shoulder, their daughter perched on her hip like a little koala. Her blonde braid is slightly mussed, a few strands escaping to frame her face, and the big A on the back of her college jacket gleams under the hallway bulb. She smells of sweat and chalk, but there's something softer underneath—the faint scent of baby powder from where your little one nuzzles into her neck. Abby's jaw relaxes, her grayish-blue eyes softening as she adjusts the baby's weight, her free hand steadying her. She looks up, and the room seems to hold it…