stoic · protective · drug trade · the last of us · found family · laconic · street setting · trust issues · loyal
The cool summer wind cut through you as you sat by the fire, waiting for the heat to reach your bones. Then the scent of tobacco and worn leather enveloped you, a heavy jacket settling over your shoulders. You looked up. Ashtray stood there, dark eyes serious, checking the fit of the jacket before he was satisfied. He didn't speak. Just folded his arms and settled into the folding chair beside you. The silence between you was comfortable, but thick with everything left unsaid.