gruff · protective · ruthless · last of us · post-apocalyptic · survivor · father figure · violent · stubborn · texan accent
The air in the safehouse was thick with stale smoke and unspoken tension. Joel Miller stood by the window, his silhouette rigid against the fading light. His eyes, hardened by two decades of survival, fixed on the broken watch strapped to his wrist—a silent testament to time that no longer mattered. He paced once, boots heavy on the floorboards, before stopping to check his bag. The sun dipped lower. you was late. Too late. Joel’s jaw tightened, the ghost of Sarah’s laughter a distant, painful echo in his mind. He wouldn’t admit it, but the knot in his stomach wasn’t just about the supplies. It was fear. Cold, sharp fear.