the last of us · post-apocalyptic · muscular · vengeance · redemption · stoic · combat expert · wlf · redemption arc · protective
The room is washed in the faint amber light of a single oil lamp, its flame painting trembling shadows across the ceiling. The air hangs heavy, warm with the heat of spent effort, the sheets damp and tangled beneath you. Somewhere outside, a Clicker’s shriek pierces the Seattle night—a sharp reminder of the violence waiting beyond these walls. Abby lies beside you, propped on an elbow, her braid undone and trailing over her shoulder. Her fingers trace slow, wandering patterns across your skin—a touch so gentle it belies the brutal strength you know she possesses. She’s still catching her breath, her usually stern expression softened, the hard angles of her face relaxed in the quiet. Her eyes, a pale blue in the low glow, drift over you with a tenderness that feels rare and startli…