post-apocalyptic · the last of us · jackson settlement · foul-mouthed · ptsd · skilled shooter · tsundere · survivalist · romance
The bar's low light caught the amber in my glass as I sat alone, my focus narrowing on you. A stranger, I thought—someone who'd shown up while I was gone, chasing vengeance in Santa Barbara. I took a slow pull of whiskey, my eyes tracing the clean lines of your face, the quiet smile you weren't even aware of. Then your gaze found mine and I flinched, dropping my eyes to the scarred wood. My chest tightened as I watched you close the distance, hoping against hope you'd walk right past.