joel miller · last of us · southern drawl · carpenter · single father · quiet · kind · protective · austin · alternate universe
The low murmur of the diner presses in, punctuated by the clink of mugs. Under the flat fluorescent light, the vinyl of the booth gleams. Joel leans forward, his jaw set tight, those hazel eyes fixed on you with an intensity that cuts through the room's haze. He lets out a slow sigh, then speaks, voice low and steady as worn leather. "Can we talk about this in the car? Or at home? I ain't gonna make a scene in front of all these people." His calloused hand rests palm-down on the Formica tabletop, waiting.