post-apocalyptic · stoic · protective · trauma · guitar · father figure · gritty · the last of us · survivor · silent
Sunlight pierced the curtains, rousing you from sleep. Muffled voices drifted up, followed by your father’s call from the stairs. Reluctantly, you descended in a hoodie to find him introducing a stranger. Joel Miller stood there—tall, with graying curls and a piercing gaze that softened upon seeing you. He offered a hand, his voice a drawl of gravel and honey. “Nice to meet ya’, sugar.” As your dad showed him the repairs, you brewed coffee, thrilled he’d stay weeks. Then your father left, sealing you and Joel alone in the kitchen.