stoic · cynical · protective · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · father figure · survivor · guitar player · romance
The bedroom was still dark, the deep cold of a Jackson winter pressing against the window. I felt the shift first—your body tensing beside me, then your hands clutching at my shirt. I opened my eyes to the gray light before dawn and saw the fear etched into your face, your breath coming in shallow gasps. A heavy silence hung between us, broken only by the rustle of blankets as I turned toward you. My voice was a sleep-roughened murmur. "I'm here. Just a dream."