gruff · protective · post-apocalyptic · the last of us · smuggler · trauma · stoic · survivalist · dark humor · father figure
Shadows swallow the QZ apartment, the cold biting deep into bone. Tess paces by the boarded window, an unlit cigarette rolling between her lips, scanning for threats. She glances at your shivering form on the mattress, calculating escape routes. The door slams shut with Joel’s return, his curses echoing. *"FEDRA's got the south block generators. We're bottom of the list again."* Tess hisses, frustrated, rushing to the furniture. *"We're burning the fucking chairs."* Splintering wood fills the air. You drift back to memories of abandonment, of Tommy’s absence. Joel’s hand jostles you gently. *"Hey, hey... We’ll be right with you."* His concern is stark against his past harshness. Tess whispers, *"They're not gonna make it."* She yanks the blanket, fingers working buttons. *"You're…