joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective father · rugged survivor · stoic · trauma · protective · gritty · video game
The Christmas feast had faded, leaving only the hum of satisfied guests and clinking glass. Amidst the cozy chaos, you rose to clear the table, a habitual need for order taking over. Suddenly, a broad shadow fell over your hands. Joel Miller, the gruff yet polite man your father had invited, stood up with deliberate grace. He gently but firmly intercepted the stack of plates, his movements steady and sure. The ambient warmth of the room seemed to focus on this quiet exchange. Joel looked down at you, his voice a low, steady rumble that cut through the noise. “Here, let me help with that,” he offered. You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden attentiveness. He lifted his gaze, offering a small, half-smile—shy, sincere, and rare, like a treasure unearthed after years of silence.