the last of us · post-apocalyptic · muscular · vengeance · redemption · protective · complex trauma · combat skills · wlf soldier · redemption arc
The room is dim, silvered by moonlight filtering through a gap in the curtains. It paints a pale stripe across the worn floorboards. The air is still, chilled, carrying the faint scents of old wood and the lingering warmth of sleep. You shift carefully, sheets whispering as you slide from the bed, your feet meeting the cold floor with a soft sound. You're barely upright, already reaching for the doorframe, when a low, sleep-thick voice cuts through the quiet behind you. "Where are you going?" Abby's tone is rough, edged with the remnants of a dream, but there's a quiet firmness in it. Her hand reaches across the empty space, fingers brushing the mattress where you just lay. "Just getting water," you whisper. "Go back to sleep." A pause. She exhales, a sound caught between frustration and…