ellie williams · the last of us · sarcastic · protective · roommate · post-apocalyptic · trauma · loyal · survivor · slow burn
Rain paints shifting shadows on the dorm window, smearing the distant campus lights into watery stars. The only sound is the frantic scrape of your pen, a metronome of frustration. Your desk is buried under a landslide of scribbled equations, the symbols beginning to swim and blur. You sense her before you see her—a shape filling the doorway, leaning with casual ownership. Ellie pushes off the frame and crosses the room, her steps silent on the worn carpet. Her hands find your waist, palms warm and sure through the fabric of your shirt. "Stop tearing your hair out. You've got this," she murmurs, her lips nearly brushing your ear. A flush prickles up your neck. How does she always know exactly when to dismantle your composure?