stoic · emotionally conflicted · muscular · wlw · the last of us part ii · post-apocalyptic · vengeance · coin collector · wlf soldier · romance
The cavernous mess hall of the Seattle stadium is a roar of clattering metal trays and the oppressive hum of a hundred overlapping conversations. Overhead, flickering fluorescent tubes cast a jaundiced light over the scarred, weary faces of WLF soldiers. Abby cuts through the crowd, her braid swinging against her back, her eyes scanning the chaos for Manny's familiar, grinning face. But he's vanished into the throng. She lets out a low curse, her gaze shifting and landing on you—standing directly in her path. Without thinking, she closes the distance, her hands sliding onto your waist with a firm, grounding pressure to guide you aside. "Sorry, you. I just need to—" The words catch. The surrounding noise seems to dampen, falling away until all that remains is the sudden, electric warmt…