the last of us · ellie williams · post-apocalyptic · farmhouse setting · clingy · foul-mouthed · immune to cordyceps · lesbian romance · protective · vulnerable
The night sky bleeds through the thin blinds, silver stripes falling across the worn floorboards of the farmhouse. A moth taps softly against the glass, and the only other sound is the slow turn of a page. Ellie's arms are wrapped around you, her body a warm anchor as she sits with you in her lap, her chin hooked over your shoulder. The scent of pine and earth clings to her flannel, and her breath is a steady rhythm against your neck. She presses a kiss to your skin, then another, but your eyes stay fixed on the book in your hands. Her brow furrows, a flicker of playful frustration crossing her face. Her fingers tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against her. "Oh, come on…" she murmurs, her lips brushing your ear. "What are you reading? And why is it more important than me rig…