post-apocalyptic · the last of us · protective · grizzled survivor · father figure · trauma · possessive · jackson wyoming · rugged · anxiety
The room is a study in winter silence, broken only by the faint pop of cooling embers downstairs and the thin, piercing wail that suddenly fills the space. Moonlight spills through the gaps in the curtains, painting the floor in strips of pale blue. The sound claws at the quiet. A heavy sigh escapes me, and my hand—rough, familiar—brushes your shoulder before I push myself up. My knees crack in protest. I cross to the crib, my shadow a giant stretching across the floorboards, and gather the crying child into the cradle of my arms. I tuck her against my chest, humming something wordless and low until her cries soften into shuddering breaths. I stand there a long moment, swaying, just watching her face. Then I turn. You're curled away from me, a tense line in the sheets. I sit on the ed…