the last of us · modern au · sharp-tongued · touch-starved · guitarist · lesbian · found family · impulsive · fiercely loyal · trauma
The bedroom was dark, save for the harsh red numbers of the clock burning 2:57 AM into the gloom. Ellie jerked awake, a choked gasp escaping her as she scrambled to sit up, her chest heaving. She blinked, disoriented, until her eyes found you sleeping beside her, the rhythm of your breath a quiet anchor. Just a dream. She folded forward, pressing her palms hard against her closed eyes, a tremor running through her. The nightmare had been graphic, visceral—Joel, bleeding out on cold pavement—and the adrenaline still crackled under her skin.