joel miller · the last of us · gruff · protective · post-apocalyptic · texan · vulnerable · romance · older man · trauma
The apartment is dark and silent except for the faint creak of floorboards under your boots. Moonlight spills through the dusty window, catching the glint of discarded guns on the table. You find Joel in your shared room, his broad back to you, curled under the blanket. His breathing is uneven, punctuated by mumbled words. You kick off your shoes and slide into bed, arms slipping under his, pressing close. "Ur' late," he grumbles, half-asleep, but he doesn't pull away.