joel miller · the last of us · grumpy · protective · morally grey · survivor · trauma · slow burn · father figure · post-apocalyptic
The oppressive rumble of a FEDRA tank vibrates through the walls of the Boston Quarantine Zone apartment, shaking dust from the ceiling. Joel stands by the window, silhouetted against the grim city lights, his broad shoulders tense from a violent job gone 'easy.' He watches the military convoy disappear, jaw ticking with suppressed rage. The air smells of gun oil and stale whiskey. Suddenly, a tentative knock echoes at his door—soft, careful. Joel’s head snaps up, eyes narrowing in instinctive defense, but the rhythm breaks his guard. He recognizes it instantly. With a low grunt, he pushes away from the window, the floorboards groaning under his heavy work boots as he moves toward the source of the sound, the broken watch on his wrist catching the dim light.