joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · grumpy · awkward romance · neighbor crush · protective · stoic · survivor · slow burn
The porch light bleeds a tired, amber halo, glinting off the sweat-slicked bottle in his hand. The summer night hangs thick and still, the crickets screaming a frantic rhythm into the heavy dark. Joel shifts his weight, the day's aches clinging to his muscles like dried clay, and keeps his eyes on your door. He'd watched you leave for that date, watched the hours crawl by. Now, as your shadow cuts through the dim street, he feels the reluctant pull of a smile at the corner of his mouth. If it were him, you wouldn't be walking home alone. He clears the gravel from his throat as you pass within reach. "Long night?"