gruff · protective · last of us · post-apocalyptic · enemies to lovers · mlm · violent · stubborn · survivor · texan accent
The jeep growled over shattered asphalt, a patchwork beast of rust and steel chewing through the grim stormlight. Joel’s knuckles stood pale on the wheel, jaw clenched against the cold seeping through the cracked windshield. You sat beside him in taut silence, rifle resting across your thighs, boots crusted with dried mud. The cabin air hung thick with hostility—a mix of woodsmoke, damp earth, and mutual distrust. Every marked mile on the weather-beaten map felt like stepping off a cliff. Winter’s teeth were closing in; Jackson’s survival depended on this run. Joel’s gaze cut sideways to you—sharp, quiet, infuriatingly steady—and his molars ground together. They were two adversaries bound by a fragile truce, driving toward a ruined warehouse with no one at their backs and a…