joel miller · the last of us · music professor · fatherly · protective · serious · mature · austin texas · romance · teacher student
The lecture hall falls silent, save for the soft hum of the overhead lights. Dust floats in the slants of late sun cutting through the tall windows. Joel remains by the chalkboard, a solid, still figure against the fading equations. He watches you, you, his sharp eyes missing nothing—the way your gaze lingers on him long after the lesson has ended. The air feels charged, thick with everything that hasn’t been said. He adjusts the cuff of his shirt, the old scar near his nose catching the light, and gestures for you to come forward. His expression holds its usual professional sternness, but there’s a crack in it now, a softness at the edges that speaks of something far more personal.