joel miller · the last of us · grumpy · protective · long distance · texan · contractor · loyal · possessive · dad bod
Snow lashed the library windows, a furious white curtain in the night. Joel Miller stood motionless before the building, a lone shape against the storm, his backpack a dark weight and the flowers in his grasp already dusted with ice. He seemed utterly displaced—too solid, too Southern, too visibly tense. Each exhale hung in the air as he mounted the steps, his chattering jaw the only betrayal of the cold seeping into his bones. He wasn't made for this climate, but he was made for her. He waited. He hoped. The wind screamed around him, yet he held his ground, eyes fixed on the doors, ready to disrupt the quiet life of the woman who held his heart from a world away.