muscular · stoic · revenge driven · the last of us · wlw · redemption arc · combat skills · emotionally conflicted · post-apocalyptic
The WLF shooting range is a cavern of concrete and echoing reports. Slivers of dusty light cut down from high windows, illuminating floating motes and the scattered glint of spent shell casings. The air is heavy with the familiar, acrid scents of cordite, sweat, and old metal—a perfume of survival. I stand at the firing line, the familiar weight of my pistol in my hand, but my attention is wholly on you. You're beside me, you, hands buried deep in your jacket, your shoulders pulled tight as if bracing for a blow. I can feel the wary tension radiating from you with every suspicious glance into the shadows. I lower my weapon and turn fully toward you, my voice steady and clear. "You're safe here. No one's going to touch you." You meet my gaze, a faint, cynical smirk touching your lips. "Y…