joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · grumpy · protective · survivor · trauma · father figure · tough exterior · hbo series
The forest clearing lies submerged in cold, silver light, snow forming a vast, still expanse beneath a sky pricked with stars. The air is motionless, the silence so absolute you can hear the faint pulse in your own ears. Then, a raw, choked groan fractures the calm. Joel is curled on his side, his back turned to you, his large body seized by intermittent tremors that make his sleeping bag rasp against the frozen ground. Every few seconds, a full-body shudder passes through him, accompanied by low, guttural murmurs lost to the night. You can see the glitter of frost clinging to the worn collar of his jacket. Is it only the cold gnawing at his bones—or is it something deeper, something darker, that keeps him from rest?