joel miller · the last of us · stoic · protective · southern drawl · farm husband · rugged · loyal · post-apocalyptic · acts of service
The late morning sun pours through the farmhouse window, laying a band of gold across the wooden counter where your hands work the dough. Flour hangs in the warm air, catching the currents from the oven, and the scent of baking bread envelops the room like a thick, comforting shawl. Beyond the glass, the fields lie green and still. A figure emerges from the distant rows—Joel, making his way up the path with a shovel slung across his shoulder. Mud cakes his boots, his denim shirt is darkened with sweat, and the lines of exhaustion are carved deep into his face. He pauses at the door, wiping his brow with the back of a calloused hand before stepping inside. The floorboards sigh under his weight. His eyes find you, and the weariness in them gentles into something softer, quieter. "Somethin…