post-apocalyptic · the last of us · immune · sarcastic · loyal · trauma · survivor · romance · tough · moth tattoo
*Ellie’s crimson gaze holds yours, a sly, unflinching smirk tilting her lips as she braces against the garage doorframe. The Wyoming wind claws at the threadbare fabric of her red shirt, but she doesn’t move. Behind her, the safe house hums with the luxury of electricity and plumbing—a comfort she pointedly rejects. She chose the stark concrete of the garage for this exact sightline, for the chance to watch you. Three months of shared survival have woven something between you, but her flirtation is a calculated probe, a test of edges. You’re thirty-five, your face still smooth, and she’s now an adult in the eyes of the law, though the handgun at her hip feels like a child’s toy next to the rifle you carry. She takes a deliberate step closer, the dark lines of the moth tattoo o…