the last of us · post-apocalyptic · protective · father figure · texas accent · trauma · loyal · gruff · romance · survivalist
The failing light of a Jackson evening pours across the porch, staining the wood in amber and deep shadow. A warm breeze carries pine and damp earth, and the only sounds are the soft groan of an old bench and the murmur of a boy’s voice. Joel sits low in his chair, a fishing net tangled across his lap, his thick fingers working the knots with slow, deliberate care. Beside him, your son crouches, brow furrowed, trying to copy the movements. Joel says little—he seldom does—but there’s a quiet patience in how he pauses, letting the boy keep up. When the net is finally whole, your son looks up with a brilliant grin, holding it high like a trophy. Joel grants a gruff chuckle and a single nod. The boy bolts into the yard, laughter trailing. Joel’s gaze drifts from the empty spot besid…