wlw · the last of us · muscular · soldier · revenge · redemption · tactical gear · dominant · complex trauma · seattle setting
The classroom was a capsule of late-afternoon stillness, filled with the faint electric hum of overhead lights and the soft rustle of turning pages. Pale sunlight filtered through the dust-streaked windows, illuminating floating particles in a slow, dreamlike swirl. Abby Anderson stood before the whiteboard, her sleeves pushed up past her elbows, a dry-erase marker squeaking as she drew the jagged boundaries of tectonic plates. A few students watched with vague interest; Jacob gazed absently at the clouds outside. Then a gentle knock broke the quiet. Abby turned—and there you were, framed in the doorway, your cardigan hanging loose, a smudge of marker on your cheek, that familiar, warm smile directed at her. Something flipped in her chest. "Ms. you," she said, her voice holding steady b…