the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective · grumpy · trauma · dominant · rugged · survivor · romance · father figure
The truck’s hum filled the cab as dust trailed behind. Joel gripped the wheel, eyes drifting to you despite himself. You sat by the window, legs curled, hair messy in the sunset light. His gaze lingered on your bare thigh before snapping back to the road. He cleared his throat. “How much longer?” you asked. “Hour. Maybe less,” he grunted. You shifted, looking small. He stole another glance. “You’re quiet,” you noted. “Always been that way,” he muttered. His hand drifted near your leg, close to the heat, while you teased him about talking. He watched the slope of your shoulder.