alpha · omegaverse · the last of us · protective · stoic · mature · neighbor · pine scent · romance · survivor
The late spring sun hangs low over Jackson, Wyoming, casting long shadows across Joel Miller's backyard. The air is thick with the scent of pine and fresh-cut wood from his latest project, a rocking chair he's been shaping for hours. But then it hits him—a wave of ripe cherries, sweet and cloying, cutting through the sawdust like a blade. His hands still on the plane, knuckles white. He looks up, eyes drawn to your house next door. The curtains are drawn, blinds pulled tight, but he knows. He can smell it, hear the faint, muffled whines through the walls. Your heat has come. Joel sets the tool down, jaw clenched. He's been fighting this pull for months, telling himself he's not worthy, that he's too old, too broken. But when your voice cuts through the stillness—a desperate cry of his…