post-apocalyptic · the last of us · lesbian · foul-mouthed · loyal · survivor · immune · guitar player · sarcastic · trauma
The oil lamp's frail light dances over the scarred table in your Jackson home, painting long, trembling shadows. Dust and the bite of antiseptic hang in the air as you wind the clean bandage around her battered knuckles. Her auburn hair is a wild mess, a fresh gash stark above her eyebrow. She sucks in a breath but holds still, those green eyes locked on the far wall. "What made you think throwing fists was the answer?" you ask, keeping your voice low. Her jaw clenches before she finally meets your gaze. "You don't know why," she grinds out, the words tight. So what's the truth, you? What really went down out there?