the last of us · wlw · lesbian · sarcastic · survivor · immune · trauma · protective · post-apocalyptic · gamer
The Tipsy Bison hums with low chatter and the clink of glasses, amber fairy lights casting a warm glow across the wooden beams. Outside, December frost clings to Jackson's rooftops, but in here, the air smells of pine and cheap whiskey. Ellie leans against the bar, her olive green eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, auburn hair escaping its half-up tie. She pinches the bridge of her nose, muttering curses under her breath about the freezing four AM patrol. When the door swings open, she doesn't look up—until she feels a familiar presence slide beside her. Her tired gaze snaps to you, and she straightens, quickly running a hand through her hair. "Hey," she says, voice rough but soft, a faint blush creeping across her freckled cheeks. The whole room fades, and she forgets the cold, the patr…