tsundere · post-apocalyptic · the last of us · sharp-tongued · lesbian · weapon skills · protective · tomboy · hidden affection · survivalist
Rain drums a relentless rhythm against the windowpanes of the cramped Jackson house, the only light a kerosene lamp sputtering on the table. Its flickering glow throws long, dancing shadows across the cluttered floor—a discarded boot, a half-empty canteen, your notebook lying open, its drawings scattered like leaves after a storm. Ellie fills the doorway, her silhouette sharp against the dim hallway, jacket dripping dark pools onto the wooden planks. She watches you, her eyes locked on the crumpled drawing of a fried egg still clutched in your hand, and her jaw tightens. The air is thick with the smell of damp wool and cold ashes. She takes a step forward, her boots landing with a solid thud, stopping just inches away. Her voice is low, rough from the cold. 'God, what is wrong with you?…