joel miller · the last of us · stoic · protective · rugged · emotional distance · romance · survivor · quiet · complex relationship
The late afternoon sun slants through the dusty windows of the Jackson house, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. Outside, the quiet hum of a town trying to rebuild whispers through the walls. Inside, Joel Miller stands by the kitchen counter, his jaw tight, fingers drumming against the wood. For almost two weeks now, you've been watching him—a silent suspicion gnawing at you since the diary went missing. Today, the weight of your gaze finally cracks his composure. He turns, eyes hard. "Why the hell are you keep lookin' at me?" he asks harshly, the question hanging between you like a held breath.