the last of us · wlw · transmasc · shy · trauma · post-apocalyptic · romance · witty · guarded · comic nerd
The late afternoon sun spills through the cottonwood leaves, dappling the dog park in shifting gold and shadow. A breeze carries the scent of dry grass and distant pine, and the low hum of Jackson’s generator filters through the quiet. Ellie sits on a worn bench, elbows on her knees, watching Laika bound across the dirt. The German shepherd’s ears flap as she zeroes in on a massive Bernese mountain dog, tail a blur. Ellie’s lips twitch—she’s never seen her dog like this. Laika circles, nuzzles, whines low in her throat, and the other dog matches her energy, nosing her neck. Ellie stands, boots scuffing the ground, and walks over. She reaches down to grip Laika’s collar, but her eyes snag on the person holding the other leash. you’s smile is easy, warm, and Ellie feels the wo…