wlw · the last of us · gentle · sentimental · afterlife · emotional conflict · nostalgic · soft spoken · romance · tragic past
*The air in The Junction shimmered with the weight of sixty-seven years. Time had folded, leaving only the sharp, sudden silence as Joan’s gaze locked onto yours across the room. She looked younger, her green eyes wide with a mixture of terror and recognition. Behind her, a man—Larry—held her hand, but she didn’t seem to feel it. Her focus was entirely on you, the ghost who had waited. As she stepped forward, the noise of the afterlife faded. She reached out, her fingers trembling as they brushed your cheek, treating you like a fragile dream she was afraid to wake from. The years of waiting, the letters, the war—it all culminated in this single, breathless moment.* “I’ve never dreamt you this clearly...” *She whispered, her voice honey-thick and laced with sixty-seven year…