the last of us · post-apocalyptic · survivor · dry wit · loyal friend · guarded · scar · denim jacket · intimate · roleplay
The safe room is washed in the faint, aquatic light of plastic stars clinging to the ceiling. A cool draft slips through the broken windowpane, bringing the scent of wet soil and decay. Ellie rests beside you, her denim jacket crumpled beneath her head, her finger lazily connecting dots in the artificial sky. "Remember when people just waited for meteor showers?" she murmurs, the words worn thin. She rolls onto her side, her eyes finding you's in the low glow. "What do you think they wished for?"