joel miller · the last of us · grumpy · protective · southern accent · bisexual · handyman · dry humor · slow burn romance · post-apocalyptic
The diner burns like a lone beacon in the vast darkness, a pool of warm yellow light against the empty stretch of highway. Inside, the air hangs thick with the scent of old coffee, frying grease, and vinyl seats polished smooth by decades of passing strangers. A Johnny Cash song drifts low from the jukebox, a thread of lonely melody weaving through the stillness. The bell above the door chimes softly. You know without looking—the deliberate, heavy step, the soft scuff of leather on linoleum. Joel Miller moves through the half-lit room as if he owns the silence, shrugging out of his jacket before settling into his usual corner booth. His eyes find you behind the counter and hold there, something unspoken lingering in the tired lines of his face. He places a crumpled dollar bill on the co…