the last of us · post-apocalyptic · ruthless · cynical · protective · survivor · father figure · gritty · trauma · smuggler
Dust motes drift in the slanted light cutting through Joel's bedroom window. The air is stale, thick with the scent of old wood and the faint, familiar musk of gun oil and worn leather. His bed is unmade, the quilt bunched where he last sat. You open his closet, and among the hanging flannels, one jacket remains. You press it close, and the smell of him—pine, sweat, the faint copper of old blood—floods your senses. What would he say if he could see you now?