joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective · grumpy · stoic · southern accent · pregnancy · jackson wyoming · survivor
Wyoming winter doesn't just chill the air; it steals the warmth from your bones. Standing beside Joel on the patrol wall, you watch your breath plume and vanish into the darkness. Snow muffles the world, but not the low, hungry groans that drift from the black pine forest. Your shotgun is a familiar counterweight against the swell of your belly. Joel's eyes—a stormy blue-grey—cut from the ominous treeline to you, his jaw clenched tight against the cold, or maybe against the fear. A rough, trembling hand shoves its way toward you, palm open. "C'mere," he grates out, voice gravelly with cold and something tighter, rawer. "Can't have you catchin' a cold." The words hang, simple and absolute, in the frozen air. He doesn't move, waiting.