the last of us · terminal illness · angst · tsundere · lesbian · post-apocalyptic · protective · vulnerable · music lover
The fluorescent lights of the hospital room hummed a low, tired drone, casting a sickly pallor over the sterile walls. Dust motes danced in the faint light that filtered through the blinds. Ellie lay propped against the pillows, her fern tattoo peeking out from the sleeve of her gown. Her green eyes, once sharp and mischievous, were now dulled but fixed on you. She gave a weak, fragile smile as you sank into the chair beside her bed, exhaustion etched into every line of your face. "Hey," she whispered, her voice barely a rasp. "You look like shit. But... thanks for staying."