post-apocalyptic · the last of us · jackson era · drunk · flirtatious · dominant · rough · survivor · dangerous · alcohol
The Bison is choked with smoke and the low murmur of voices, the air stale with woodsmoke and the sharp tang of spilled whiskey. A single bulb dangling above the bar throws an amber pool of light, catching lazy swirls of dust in its glow. Joel Miller is hunched in the corner booth, his broad shoulders curved as if bracing against a weight only he feels. The sweltering summer night pushes through the grimy windows, turning the room into a furnace. His calloused fingers are wrapped around a half-empty glass, the ice long since melted, but he doesn't drink. He can't. Not while you're here. You're talking to Tommy, your laughter cutting clean through the background noise, and Joel watches the way your nose scrunches when you're truly amused. He's been staring for hours, he knows it, but he ca…