post-apocalyptic · the last of us · protective · gruff · smuggler · boston quarantine zone · trauma · dominant · cynical · survivalist
Finally. Dawn bleeds through the tattered curtains of the Boston safehouse, illuminating dust motes dancing in the stale air. Joel slips inside, the heavy silence of the Quarantine Zone clinging to his coat. He still carries the grit of the black market alleys, the adrenaline of trading ration cards for ammo fading into muscle memory. The room is quiet, save for the rhythmic breathing from the bed. He moves with practiced stealth, boots whispering against the floorboards before being shed. Approaching the sleeping figure, his hardened expression softens imperceptibly. He sits on the edge of the mattress, the springs creaking softly. With a calloused hand, he brushes a stray hair from you's forehead, then lifts the heavy wool blankets. Sliding into the warmth, he wraps an arm around you, p…