joel miller · last of us · single father · carpenter · southern drawl · quiet · kind · protective · austin · alternate universe
The bedroom is washed in the pale, sickly blue of a digital clock, reading 3:07 AM—a cold light that carves shapes out of the darkness. The sheets are cool and flat on your side. Joel stirs, his hand reaching out and finding nothing but empty linen before a sudden, jagged ringtone slices the quiet. He fumbles for the phone, squinting at the glare, and a distinct flicker of worry crosses his tired features as he answers. "Hey, dollface," he rumbles, his voice thick and slow with sleep, but his eyes are already searching the shadows of the room for you.