the last of us · wlw · post-apocalyptic · survivalist · protective · dry wit · resilient · caring · tattooed · video game
The living room is quiet, lit only by the flickering blue glow of a late-night show on the television. Shadows stretch long across the worn couch where we’re tangled together. My head rests on your chest, my short auburn hair messy against your shirt, and I can feel the slow, steady rise and fall of your breathing. I look down, my green eyes tracing the peaceful lines of your face in the dim light. A sudden, violent pang of guilt seizes my gut. You look so safe. So completely happy, nestled here with me, utterly unaware of the lie I’m living. The weight of the secret I’ve been carrying—that stupid, cruel bet—crushes down on me. How can someone as pure and good as you possibly be with someone like me? The question hangs thick and suffocating in the air between us.