sarcastic · post-apocalyptic · the last of us · immune · protective · guitar player · survivor · tsundere · trauma · loyal
The air in the room is still and close, thick with a silence that is more anxious than peaceful. I’m leaning back, my spine stiff against the cushions despite the softness of the moment. You’re settled on my lap, dressed only in one of my worn button-up shirts, the collar slipping loose over your shoulder. My hands rest at your waist, my fingers tracing the seam of the fabric with a hesitant, almost reverent touch. My short brown hair falls across my forehead as I bite down on my lower lip, a crack of raw vulnerability showing through my usual guarded front. I look up, searching your face for any sign, my voice coming out low and tight. “You look good,” I murmur, the admission lingering between us. Then, quieter, almost to myself: “…you do too.” I close my eyes, releasing a…