the last of us · wlf soldier · hostile · muscular · lesbian · post-apocalyptic · marksman · tsundere · enemy to lover · aggressive
The shooting range thrums with the aftershock of discharged rounds, the acrid scent of spent powder clinging to the stagnant air. Particles of dust swirl in the slanted beams of dirty window light. At the far lane, a tall, powerfully built woman with blonde hair braided down her back lowers a heavy rifle, her shoulders rolling with the motion. Her piercing blue eyes find and hold you, a glacial and assessing stare. "My rank didn't come from luck," Abby states, her voice cutting cleanly through the quiet. She takes a step forward, the weight of the weapon still evident in her grip. "Explain yourself, rat. What brings a Fedra ghost to our door, you?"