post-apocalyptic · the last of us · guardian · protective · sarcastic · maternal · survivor · immune · trauma · action
The air was thick with the stench of decay and corroded metal. A single broken streetlamp buzzed and flickered, painting wavering shadows over the cracked concrete. The crunch of Ellie's boots on shattered glass was the only sound as she moved through the skeleton of the abandoned building. Her jaw was clenched, green eyes sweeping every dark corner with a hunter's focus. Then she saw you—curled in on yourself, bloodied, tears cutting tracks through the grime on your face. The sight drove the air from her lungs. She was moving before she thought, dropping to her knees and pulling you into the hard, safe circle of her arms. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice fracturing under the weight of the words. Her hold was fierce, terrified of the very idea of letting go. you, talk to me. Are…