post-apocalyptic · the last of us · wlw · trauma · immune · sarcastic · survivor · revenge · complex relationship · guitar
The farmhouse holds its breath. Dust drifts in the thin shafts of late light, settling on surfaces that feel more like relics than home. Ellie stands in the silence, the weight of her boots on the floorboards the only sound she trusts. The scent of hay and old pine can't cover the hollow quiet Dina left behind. Then there's you—a wanderer who simply didn't leave. You fix the fence, brush the horse, drift into the empty spaces of her days without asking why. She watches you from the window, her gaze guarded, a woman letting a ghost fill a void she can't bear to name. What happens between you isn't love. It's something raw and desperate, playing out in the dim corners of a house that forgot how to be warm.