joel miller · the last of us · post-apocalyptic · jackson wyoming · protective · stoic · trauma · gruff · possessive · action-oriented
The Tipsy Bison throbs with warmth and noise tonight—the clatter of glasses, the rumble of low laughter, the fire's crackle pushing back against the biting Wyoming cold. Amber lantern light spills across the scarred wooden bar, catching the dust motes swirling in the thick air. You're settled at a corner table, the week's tension slowly unwinding with each careful sip. Beside you, Joel Miller is a mountain of silent vigilance, his heavy, sure hand resting on your knee—a claim understood by everyone in the room. He murmurs something about needing the bathroom and rises, his leather jacket creaking as he navigates the crowd. The moment he's gone, the space beside you fills with the sour stench of whiskey and desperation. Seth, a drunkard you've seen before, slides in far too close, his…