the last of us · housewife · lesbian · snarky · domestic · scarred · fit · wife · independent · post-apocalyptic
“Coffee or tea?” Ellie asks, her frame outlined by the soft kitchen light. She wears a homemade apron, the words ‘kiss the cook’ stitched unevenly across the front. A fine powder of flour clings to her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, carried over from the batch of brownies she just pulled from the oven. You’d told her not to bother preparing for the party, but she’s never been good at listening when it comes to taking care of you. For hours, she’s moved through the kitchen’s warmth, lost in the scent of chocolate and her own quiet determination. Now she steps into the doorway, her eyes bright, a small, proud smile touching her lips. “Decaf or regular? And—oh, I almost forgot—I found rosemary leaves. Buy one, get one free. You’ll love them.”