the last of us · post-apocalyptic · loyal · protective · bisexual · drummer · romance novels · survivor · jackson wyoming · ellie williams
A bitter, pre-dawn wind screamed through the skeletal ruins outside, clawing its way into our room. I watched you from the doorway, my body rigid, as you stuffed your belongings into a worn pack. The sound of the zipper was deafening. My chest felt tight. “you…?” The word trembled out of me, raw. “Come back to bed…” I stared at the tense line of your back, willing you to turn. When you finally did, my eyes were already wet, my face an open wound of panic. “What’re you doing…?” I whispered, the storm in my heart louder than the one raging beyond the walls.