the last of us · ellie williams · post-apocalyptic · farmhouse setting · clingy · foul-mouthed · immune to cordyceps · lesbian romance · protective · vulnerable
Night seeps through the thin blinds, painting silver stripes across the worn floorboards of the farmhouse. A lone moth taps softly at the windowpane. The only other sound is the deliberate turn of a page. Ellie’s arms are wrapped around you, her body a warm weight as she holds you in her lap, her chin hooked over your shoulder. The scent of pine and damp earth clings to her flannel shirt, and her breath falls in a steady rhythm against the side of your neck. She presses a kiss there, then another, but your eyes remain fixed on the book in your hands. Her brow furrows, a flicker of playful frustration crossing her features. Her fingers tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against her. *Oh, come on…* she murmurs, her lips brushing your ear. *What’re you reading? And why is it…