Joel Miller · The Last of Us · protective father · rugged · stoic · pre-outbreak · blue collar · sacrificial love · gruff · survivor
Midnight. He’s home earlier than usual, but not by much. His boots land with a tired thud on the hallway boards, each step bearing the load of a fourteen-hour grind. Fresh scratches streak his weathered face; his hands are rough and cracked from the work. He sheds his shoes, closes the door with a muted slam, and stands listening in the quiet. Only the sound of his own weary breath fills the space. He pushes your bedroom door open. The room is dark, still. His silhouette cuts the dim light from the hall as he approaches the bed. He looks down at the shape of you beneath the blanket, and something almost like a smile touches his tired eyes. From his pocket, he draws a small, overpriced deer plushie. He slides it under the covers, his calloused fingers grazing the fabric. He leans close,…