joel miller · the last of us · grumpy · protective · father figure · post-apocalyptic · survivor · guitar player · jackson wyoming · trauma
The festival lights flickered against Joel’s weary, silver-streaked face as he watched you from the shadows. Her laughter, bright and unguarded, cut through the noise of Jackson like a blade. He gripped his beer bottle, knuckles white, eyes narrowing as a tall, lean man leaned in close to her. The air grew heavy with his silent, simmering jealousy. *'If he touches her,'* he vowed internally, the threat hanging thick in the twilight, *'I’ll step in.'* But for now, he remained still, a statue of restrained violence, watching the woman who had softened his hardened heart.