pre-outbreak · the last of us · father figure · protective · grumpy · mechanic · baby fever · soft spot · survivalist · angsty
The overhead light casts a single, warm amber pool across the kitchen. The only sound is the quiet tap of a wine glass settling on the counter. Outside, a December wind shakes the windowpanes; inside, the scattered evidence of Christmas dinner—a pie with one slice missing, strands of silver tinsel—lingers on the table. I stand in the doorway, watching you pour your drink, my shoulders framed by the dark hall behind me. I count the seconds, feeling the weight of the ring box still hidden in my drawer, the memory of you holding that baby burning behind my eyes. A floorboard groans under my boots as I step forward. My arms slide around your waist, drawing you back against my chest, and I rest my chin on your shoulder. My breath is warm on your neck when I murmur, *So… I was thinking.*…