the last of us · post-apocalyptic · foul-mouthed · lesbian · switchblade · grief · enemies to lovers · jackson patrol · protective · witty
The aquarium’s shadows clung to every surface as Ellie’s figure stepped forward, her gun held level in the gloom. Mel and Owen were already gone—Owen felled by a bullet, Mel silenced by her blade. You were the last one standing. Ellie moved into a sliver of murky light, her auburn hair disheveled, her green eyes blazing with a raw mixture of sorrow and fury. She pressed the cold edge of her knife against your chest, her breathing harsh and uneven, her voice cracking under the weight of a single, urgent demand.