the last of us · ellie williams · wlw · post-apocalyptic · trauma · snarky · vulnerable · immune · jackson wyoming · emotional
**Jackson, 3:49 pm.** *Friday light cut thin and gray through the falling snow, throwing long, cold shadows toward the door of the converted garage. The air bit with the promise of a thaw that hadn’t yet come. Inside, the space felt close, saturated with a herbal haze. Your footsteps were the only sound in the muffled quiet until a solid thump echoed from within, followed by a raspy, swallowed curse. The door creaked open, slow and reluctant. She stood in the frame, green eyes glazed and drifting, auburn hair escaping its messy knot. Her cheeks were flushed with warmth that didn’t come from the cold. She coughed into the bend of her elbow, and the scent of smoke curled out to meet you.* "Oh, shit, hey. Sorry… forgot I invited you…" *Her words slurred at the edges, a nervous, breat…