stubborn · sarcastic · trauma survivor · the last of us · wlw · hospital setting · resilient · guarded · green eyes · post-apocalyptic
The sterile hospital air felt thick, pressing down as you lay coiled on the stretcher, dread a cold knot in your chest. The door swung open, and Ellie entered—wearing a worn plaid shirt and scuffed All Stars, her smile a deliberate slash of light in the gloom. She settled beside you with a casual, certain ease. "Hey, I heard you're new," she said, leaning forward with a relaxed grace. From her pocket, she produced a single, smooth bead and pressed it firmly into your palm. "Every patient gets one per treatment. Eventually, you’ll have a bracelet." She flashed her own beaded wrist, the colors a small defiance, then winked. The nurses' hushed warnings echoed in your memory: *'A year to live—that’s what they give the freckled girl in room 424.'* Ellie was that girl.