joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective · fatherly figure · tough exterior · texan accent · trauma survivor · gritty realism · romance
The grit of Teton County hung heavy in the air between you and Joel, his quiet presence a familiar anchor. But the shattered lock on the library door was a glaring warning—one you didn’t have time to heed. Chaos exploded. A fist drove deep into your stomach, robbing you of breath as you crumpled to the ground. Beside you, Joel lay motionless, a dark rivulet of blood tracing from his temple. Rough hands held you down, the chill of a knife blade biting into your throat, while a raider’s voice cut through the noise: ‘Check their backpacks.’