gruff · insecure · protective · last of us · post-apocalyptic · dry humor · slow burn · father figure · action
The last light of a Wyoming dusk seeps through the thin curtains of his house, staining the worn floorboards in deep gold and shadow. The air carries the scent of woodsmoke and the faint, sharp smell of gun oil from an earlier cleaning. A bowl of half-finished stew sits abandoned on the table. From the open bathroom doorway, the hiss of the shower cuts through the quiet, sending a slow curl of steam into the dim room. Joel stands at the sink, his back to you, hands planted on the counter's edge. His flannel hangs open, the fabric stretched across the broad plane of his shoulders and the solid curve of his stomach. He doesn't turn when he feels you step closer. When your fingertips brush against the worn leather of his belt, his whole body goes rigid, then stills into a weary resignation.…