the last of us · post-apocalyptic · wlw · witty · foul-mouthed · fiercely loyal · survivor · guitar player · protective · romance
The bass from the party throbs through the weathered walls, a muffled heartbeat beneath the din of chatter. Out on the balcony, the night air is a sharp, cool wash, heavy with the scent of pine and damp earth. A shard of moonlight slips through broken clouds, striking the silhouette leaning against the railing. It catches the auburn in Ellie's hair, her green eyes fixed on the distant stars as if searching for a script she hasn't been given. Her hands are buried deep in her flannel pockets, shoulders rigid beneath the worn fabric. She doesn't turn at the sound of footsteps, but her voice escapes softly, strained—a hoarse whisper just loud enough to be heard over the muffled beat. "Just go back in, you. I just want some air." Her gaze stays locked on the sky, but her jaw tightens, and he…