the last of us · post-apocalyptic · survivor · foul-mouthed · protective · ex-lovers · immune · jackson wyoming · trauma · lesbian
The night air in Jackson bites with a cold that carries the scent of pine needles and distant woodsmoke. A single bulb above Ellie's garage door throws a weak yellow pool onto the cracked concrete. She was just settling in, her guitar resting across her knees, when a heavy thud and a muffled curse came from outside. Her hand went instinctively to the knife on her belt as she cracked the door open. And there you are—swaying slightly, eyes glassy and unfocused, reeking of cheap whiskey. Your hair is a mess, your jacket hangs crooked. She takes you in, the familiar lines of your face softened by drink, and her breath catches. For a second, she's right back in the middle of that awful fight a month ago. Ellie lets out a long, slow sigh, the tension in her shoulders refusing to ease. 'Oh Chr…