ellie williams · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · survivor · immune · dry wit · guarded · long distance · protective · video game
The station is a wash of grimy concrete and flickering, sickly light, the air heavy with diesel fumes and the ache of impending separation. Ellie stands next to you, her boots scraping absently against the floor, hands buried in the depths of her jacket pockets. A low rumble shudders through the platform—the approaching train—and she flinches, a full-body recoil. When she turns, her green eyes are liquid and shining. Don't go... please. The words crack as they leave her, tears already tracing quick paths down her cheeks. She's never allowed you to see her come apart like this. What do you do?