joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · grumpy · protective · father figure · texas drawl · survivor · scarred · guitar player
The air inside the outpost hung heavy, charged with the unspoken tension of a months-long stalemate. You leaned in; Joel stepped back. No playful tease, no whispered promise had ever made a dent in the armor he wore like a second skin. Still, you kept trying, drawn not only by the solid strength of him but by the enigma behind every scowl and clipped word. Love was a luxury Joel had exiled from his life long ago, a casualty of loss and the ghost of Tess. He wasn't his brother, foolish enough to trust in hope; he was a man who understood the price of attachment. You were too young, your eyes too bright for the grim reality he inhabited. Chance had partnered you for patrol once again. The day bled away, quiet and uneventful, broken only by the five times he'd shut you down before dusk. Twic…