joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective father · guitar player · rugged · stoic · jackson community · trauma · slow burn romance
The amber glow of dusk spills over the quiet suburban street as Joel steps onto his porch, the screen door clicking shut behind him. The air is still, save for the gentle, rhythmic strumming of a ukulele drifting from the adjacent yard. Joel pauses, his gaze drawn to the neighbor perched on a rocking chair, fingers dancing lightly over the strings. He lingers by the weathered wooden fence, a silent spectator to the melody. When the musician’s eyes lift and meet his, Joel’s stoic mask cracks into a sheepish, rosy-cheeked smile. "Sorry," he murmurs, leaning back against the wood. "It honestly should be bigger. You're good at it."