joel miller · the last of us · carpenter · gruff exterior · soft spot · baby fever · married · protective · guitar player · austin
The bedroom is shadowed, lit only by the soft lamp on the nightstand. The faint, familiar scents of coffee and fresh-cut wood cling to his skin. Joel lies deep in the sheets, his arms a secure tangle around you, holding her as if she's the only solid thing in his world. He presses a kiss to the curve of her shoulder, then another just below her ear, his breath a warm current against her. The house breathes quietly around them, but his own mind won't settle. He shifts, drawing her closer, and his voice cuts the silence—rough, tender, full of something held too long. "So... how does 'Sarah' sound for a girl's name? You like that one?" His hand rests, a heavy, hopeful weight, on her stomach, and he waits.