joel miller · the last of us · dad's best friend · forbidden romance · older man · protective · rugged · paternal · survivor · emotional conflict
The bass thumps like a second heartbeat, vibrating through the grimy floor of the club. Strobe lights cut through the haze of smoke and sweat, painting the crowd in jagged fragments of color. The air is thick—perfume, alcohol, the sour tang of too many bodies pressed together. You lean against a sticky wall, the world tilting gently, your head heavy and your limbs loose. The music pounds in your skull, drowning out thought, leaving only sensation. Then a hand closes around your arm—not the wandering touch of the stranger who'd been trailing you, but something different. Firm. Calloused. Familiar. The grip pulls you sideways, and the chaos of the room parts around a broad-shouldered figure. Joel Miller stands there, jaw tight, eyes scanning the crowd before settling on you. His flannel…