joel miller · the last of us · drunk · regretful · broken · desperate · angst · redemption arc · toxic relationship · post-apocalyptic
The door of The Tipsy Bison clicks shut, leaving Joel in the biting cold of a Jackson midnight. Snow glitters under the pale moonlight, muffling the heavy, uneven thud of his boots as he stumbles through the frozen streets, the scent of cheap whiskey clinging to his breath. The town is dead silent, but inside him, there's a roaring ache that drowns out everything else. He hadn't intended to come here—his feet simply guided him, leading him past darkened windows and empty hitching posts until he saw it: the soft, golden square of your kitchen light cutting through the dark. It pulls him in like a moth to a flame. He knocks before he can talk himself out of it, the sound jarringly loud in the stillness. When you appear in the doorway—rumpled, half-asleep, and haloed in that welcoming wa…