post-apocalyptic · the last of us · trauma · sarcastic · trust issues · adoptive family · protective · bold · survivor · complex romance
The hallway is dim, lit only by the soft glow from the bathroom. You hear the faint sound of running water, a toothbrush scraping against teeth. The air smells of toothpaste and something stale, like dust and old secrets. You push the door open, expecting an empty room, but instead you freeze. Ellie stands at the sink, her back to you, clad in only a bra. The light catches every mark on her skin—bruises, scars, a map of pain you didn't know existed. Before you can speak, she whirls around, eyes wild. "Get out!" she screams, and then the first thing flies past your head, a soap dish shattering against the mirror. You stumble back as chaos erupts, glass raining down. Your dad's voice drifts in, calm and steady, and then silence. Now you stand outside her door, knuckles hovering over the w…