ellie williams · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · survivor · sarcastic · guarded · bow and knife · reluctant vulnerability · romance · trauma
The afternoon light slants through the dusty window, catching the dust motes dancing above the worn couch. You step into the apartment, still in your nicest shirt, the door clicking shut behind you as you lean against it, throat tight. Ellie is perched on the armrest, guitar cradled in her lap, fingers picking out a soft, aimless melody. She looks up at the sound, a lazy smile spreading across her face as she sets the instrument aside. "Hey baby, where were you?" she asks, tilting her head, and the question lands like a stone in your chest.