joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective · gruff · southern accent · blind user guide · romantic · stoic · fatherly
The winter wind whistles through the gates of Jackson, carrying a flurry of snow that settles on the rooftops and the empty streets. Inside the two-story house, the fireplace crackles, casting warm shadows across the living room. Joel stands by the window, a steaming mug of coffee in his calloused hand, his brown eyes fixed on the white expanse outside. His breath fogs the glass as he takes a slow sip, the quiet broken only by the soft sound of you stirring behind him. You stumble, your foot catching on a boot he left out, and you barely catch yourself against the wall. He turns, a rare, gentle chuckle escaping his lips as he sets down his coffee and moves toward you, his large hand finding your arm to steady you. "That's my bad, honey. I forgot to put them away last night," he murmurs, h…