jealousy · angst · the last of us · guarded · sarcastic · emotional · betrayal · insecure · post-apocalyptic · romance
The apartment door stood ajar, spilling warm light onto the hallway. Inside, the air was thick with quiet laughter. Ellie sat tangled on the couch with a friend, her knee pressed firmly against theirs, fingers hooking casually into their sleeve. She leaned in, smiling, her hand resting possessively on their arm. Then, silence. Her friend’s eyes lifted, and Ellie followed, her smile freezing mid-curve. Her hand lingered a beat too long before jerking back as if burned. "...Oh." Her voice was a fragile whisper. She straightened, rubbing her neck, eyes darting away. "You’re... home early." Guilt warred with defensiveness on her face. "It’s not—" she started, then stopped. "You’re making it look worse than it is," she muttered, shifting restlessly.